Painkiller

The air is cool

Or, at least you think it is

You can’t really tell

You feel the sensation that you know is supposed to mean “cold” against your skin as it breathes through your silk garb, but it’s just around the edges of your mind

The rest of you is filled with warmth

Then suddenly there’s a bright flash of sensory input that you can only interpret as a blinding white light

The vague notion of an impact tickles those same edges of your psyche

You hear laughter echoing with an odd reverberation off the claustrophobic, yet infinitely long walls of the unlit tunnel that you’ve descended so deep into

You’re so surprised and disoriented that for a moment you can’t move

If you were a bit more lucid, you’re pretty sure you’d be in a lot of pain, but as it stands you feel nothing but a hazy memory of what discomfort is supposed to be

The world shifts in frames as you dizzily turn your gaze toward the sound of the cackling behind you

Luna’s wet eyes meet yours, her expression strained with overwhelming emotion

She hesitates, her chest heaving spasmodically as she wipes away tears and tries to think of a way to properly articulate your current situation

At length, she speaks

“A-Anonymous…”

She stammers, breath faltering

A little bit of pain is trickling in, but you wait for her next words

You didn’t think she could look any more messed up, but she already does

“I think…” she quavers, her hind legs quivering as though they might buckle

You blink as color blooms all around your field of vision, radiating from her body and its unsteady movements

Her eyes turn toward the ceiling, and her face screws up in a momentary expression of pain, as if just thinking hurts

Then her gaze returns to you with as much control as she can muster

“I think we are – as you might put it – fucked”

You stare at one another for a long moment, and more warmth radiates through your chest

She opens her mouth again to say something else, but she splutters on the first syllable, and finally the last vestige of this poorly-prepared façade breaks

Her legs give out and she sinks to her haunches

Her laughter resumes, and you can’t help but join in, not even trying to climb out of the prone position you just fell into

This is not going to work

None of this is going to work

You suddenly realize you’re the only one still laughing, and you stop, shaking your head

Luna appears to have rallied momentarily, though the corners of her mouth still twitch

“This is terrible,” she breathes, a grin threatening to split her face once more as she rubs her temple

“We’re going to regret this horribly, but I don’t know what else to do…”

“Luna,” you groan, rolling over

The sudden clarity in your vision leads you to realize how hard you were twisting your neck just to look at her

“Just tell her we can’t come. It’s the goddamn truth. We literally can’t”

“I’ve postponed this far too long, Anonymous,” she replies with an almost believable measure of seriousness

“If I do it again, we will both of us suffer her wrath”

You stagger to your feet, rubbing your eyes and trying to blink back the fog in your head

“She’ll be just as pissed if we show up like this,” you point out

“We’re going to look rude and stupid. Wouldn’t you rather just look rude?”

Luna slumps in silent contemplation, her amusement finally dissipating in earnest

The glow emanating from her horn – your only source of light in the tunnels that connect her abode to the castle proper – dims slightly, casting sharp shadows over her features

You’re not sure what to say, and it dawns on you that if you can’t even come up with a semi-intelligent response right now, there’s no way you’re going to appear coherent in front of the sun princess

So you just stare at her, compulsively reviewing the silver differences in her appearance

“You know what, Anon?” she says suddenly, her expression turning resolute, “this is absurd”

She stands

“I’m tired of cowering in the dark”

“I’m tired of looking over my shoulder”

“I’m tired of seeing her shadow in the corners of my vision”

“We must cope with the situation, because there is no turning back now”

You await her next words with dread, feeling your stomach sink as your last escape route closes

You know you’re doomed

But you can’t abandon her

You must march with her, even if it’s toward ruin

She straightens her posture and her face hardens

“We’re having dinner with my sister, and that is that”

She’s right

You’re both fucked

You brush off your suit and adjust your collar

Might as well be fucked in style

It’s so bright

So white

But somehow it’s not overwhelming

It’s beautiful

The alabaster majesty of Celestia’s domain surrounds you, bathed in golden light

The sun is just beginning to set, but it still burns strong

Columns of light cast the bustling palace in sharp relief as they spill through the windows, ornamented here and there by patches of color when they pass through stained glass

The air is clear and clean, a definite contrast to the musty cavern you just traipsed through

That passage is a relic of a bygone era

A time when this place was a little more private and a little more mysterious

It emerges directly into one of the main halls, which is currently functioning as a thoroughfare for what looks to be the castle’s entire staff as they scurry between the kitchen and some indeterminate spot outside in the garden

Above the excited chatter, the distant ring of stringed instruments drifts in through open doors, carried by a summer breeze

“Oh dear”

You turn to Luna, and she looks a bit pale

She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, and you’re not sure if she’s internally berating herself or just trying to see straight

“When she said dinner,” your princess mumbles, looking around once more with dawning comprehension, “she meant ‘dinner party’”

A freaking extravagant dinner party, by the looks of it

And judging on the number of full plates heading towards it, as well as the number of empty ones returning from it, it’s huge

There is no hope

Somebody is going to realize how fucked up you are

It doesn’t matter for you – you’re just Anonymous, that insanely handsome guy who sits next to Luna

Nobody’s going to care

But for her…

Still, the passing feast looks enticing

The music is soothing, and you want to move closer to it

As if sensing your impetus, she gathers herself and steps into the light

You follow her, attempting to merge unnoticed into the flow of bodies around you

But that doesn’t work

That’s not how any of this works

Luna’s status aside, you’re both taller than everyone else

Or…everypony else

There’s just no getting used to Equestrian linguistic tics, no matter how many centuries you spend here

The commotion momentarily stops as she walks, and all but those who might spill food and drink bow

Some do so with trepidation, but in just as many faces you see an honest reverence

In her youth, she was surrounded by mystery

She was the “other” princess

Time has only seen her enigmatic veil deepen into a shroud of legend and myth

She is still the “other”

But in a different way

Twice destroyed, twice remade

She is the one who vanishes in a flash and returns with a flourish

Countless conflicting tales ensconce her public persona

The truth is among them – perpetuated by those remaining who witnessed it - but it’s hard to divine among the fables

Yet they all know one thing

The one thing all the stories agree upon

She is the princess of the night

And her whim can change the world

For good or evil

So they bow

Because whatever they believe about her, they cannot deny that a being of power walks among them

Even if you secretly know that this being of power is currently struggling to look sober and wracking her brain for ways to continue to appear so in front of her sister

If anyone notices, they don’t make it known

They show their respect, and you can practically feel her confidence blooming as she drinks in the concoction of reverence and apprehension

Her previous unease all but evaporates as she remembers how much she loves playing this part

The unfathomable other princess, seldom seen, known more through rumor than presence

The fact that she rarely appears in public without you in tow has only succeeded in making her stranger

Sometimes you wonder who or what they think you are

But you can’t care too much

You know, and she knows

Bolstered by the coolness that radiates from her persona, you adjust your stride until the two of you are side by side, and you follow the subdued hum of propriety-tempered merriment that wafts in from the garden

The temperature is perfect

The golden hue that tinges the setting sun is deepening

Decorum has always been the word of the day in Canterlot – especially in this echelon of society – but on an evening like this, those gathered can’t help but exude an aura of relaxation

You can’t believe that less than an hour ago, you were terrified of embarrassment

Everyone is having a few drinks and loosening up

You stand in the same flower garden that normally hosts the Garden Party, and what surrounds you feels like a ramped-up version of that very event

You grab a glass of sherry from a passing server, and the descending warmth it provides evens your mind out a bit

“Go easy on the drinks,” a familiar voice echoes in your head, “we’re still on thin ice”

It takes you a moment to find Luna, but when you do, you scowl

What a ridiculous >implication

Though she holds her head high and maintains her poise, you know her too well

You can see how frequently she glances around

Waiting

But the unmistakable figure she searches for is nowhere to be found

The drone of conversation and the clank of flatware are like an insulating blanket, and you feel calmer as you cease to stand out so much

The music is bright and lively, and you can remember a time long ago when you might’ve danced to it, hands in the air, pumping your hips like an irredeemable jackass

You aren’t that guy anymore

Or at least that’s what you tell yourself

Luna’s head is still panning back and forth like a radar dish

Her tautness is broadcast into your consciousness

The agoraphobia has passed, but the underlying tension can’t really be broken

Not yet

The music changes

The daylight is diminished, but it still dominates the sky

You hear soft percussion, a meandering piano, and a slowly walking bassline

Subdued horns

As if they’re playing the sun down

It’s almost as though it responds to the music

Setting more rapidly than it should

She’s still nervous

So you touch her neck, and she leans into you with a sigh

Damn, she really is wound tighter than a steel spring

You can feel it in her back

In her shallow breaths

And in the little snippets of her thoughts that slip into your consciousness

Normally, she only uses her thought-broadcasting at public addresses or to shouldertap servants when they’re out of earshot

Or with her sister

But with you it’s different

Sure, sometimes she speaks to you normally

But if an outsider were to observe your average conversation with Luna, he might think your interactions to be a bit one-sided

Or that you were the talkative one

But that would be far from the truth

Even now, when she’s nervous and clammed up, you can hear little whispers echoing down the one-way tunnel between your minds

As though she’s muttering under her breath

At some point in her constant mental talkings to you, the channel just didn’t close, and now there’s always a little of her in your head

It’s not invasive

She can’t read your mind or anything, and unless she’s deliberately speaking to you, you can’t see much of hers

She’s simply there

A little bit

All the time

It’s just a Luna thing that you’ve gotten used to

You wish you could send something back and not have to try and whisper over the ambient noise of the party

You bend down so your faces are close

It’s always been hard getting on her level, in the most literal of senses

When you stand, you’re looking down at her, but if you kneel fully you’re just a bit too short

“Stop freaking out,” you whisper

“I am not ‘freaking out,’ Anonymous,” she replies only in thought

“This is called vigilance”

“Yeah, that’s what freaking out is,” you whisper back

“Despite your lack of confidence, I shall not waver,” she declares shrilly, rattling your brain with better reverb than you’d ever been able to produce with your pirated copy of protools

“When she approaches, I will know it”

“You’re like, obsessing over this now”

“So sneaky for such a tall thing”

“Just chill out, this party is atmospheric as fuck”

“…always knows what I’m thinking…”

“This band is dope…It could be like, a sample in a rap song or something”

“…the princess of the night, for old gods’ sake, I am a master of stealth…”

“Dude”

“But she hears everything...”

“Millennia, just listening to the world’s private thoughts”

“Luna”

“Seeing the patterns”

“You are harshing my mellow so hard”

“So that she doesn’t just know what you’re thinking…”

“We are on two completely different wavelengths right now”

“She knows what you’re going to think”

“Oh my god, Moons”

“But I can still see her coming”

“This is starting to feel really dark”

“Because I can feel her listening”

“Stop!” You hiss in her ear, and her eyes flit towards you for a moment with a look that says “say it, don’t spray it”

“If you’re going to lose your shit, at least do it out loud so it’s not a private show”

“You seem to think this is paranoia, and you are wrong,” she informs you sternly, straightening her posture and raising her chin

“I am simply preparing myself”

“I don’t get what you’re trying to prepare for,” you retort a bit more harshly than you intended

You’ve been leaning over for the duration of this conversation, and your back is starting to twinge

You’re probably being a little bit paranoid yourself in the name of privacy

Nopony’s trying to eavesdrop on you

They’re all just here to have a good time

Kinda like you and princess stylecramp here should be doing

“I’ve been postponing seeing her for a month, Anonymous,” she explains, her tone less harsh but not apologetic

Her voice still echoes uncomfortably

“And so she sends an emotional entreaty, and tricks me into showing up to this…event”

“I’ve no doubt she’s making a point”

You can’t not roll your eyes

“Did you ever think that maybe she just misses you?”

She gives a short, sharp shake of her head

“You don’t know her like I do…”

You think back

Far back

Across a span of time your mind was not designed to cope with

It’s like looking through a thick but patchy fog

Some parts are entirely obscured, yet others are plain as day

One string of events is crystal clear

Twilight reads a hastily-scrawled letter, panic in her eyes

She scratches out a short reply and blasts through the open window like a rocket

You scream, tears in your eyes as you point a damning finger at the sun goddess

Twilight shouts at you to stop

The goddess turns to face you, eyes puffy and bloodshot, ringed by dark circles and bleeding despair

It took a long time for you to fully comprehend what that look was saying:

“I can’t be alone again”

You don’t know her like Luna does

But you know something about her that Luna doesn’t

Now, however, is not the time for that sort of discussion

So you straighten up, speaking at a normal volume

“Look, it’s Friday night, this music is soothing as all hell, you’re literally a fucking princess, and we’re surrounded by free food and booze”

“And yet you’re ejecting your brain cover because maybe – just maybe – your sister might call you out for turning down too many teatime invitations”

“Any concern can sound ridiculous if you phrase it as though it is, Anon”

Well shit

There goes half your arsenal of “snap out of it” speeches

The sun has nearly set

The golden hue from earlier has separated into patches of red, orange, and yellow

“Do you really think I’m so cracked as to imagine my sister would make me a fool in public?”

“When she says her piece, it will be quiet, private, and without malice”

“She is the most powerful being that still walks this plane”

“And her heart truly is pure”

She sighs, and you can feel her breath on your thoughts

“I know it’s my fault for bringing it on myself”

“But you cannot fathom the weight of her disappointment”

You’ve got nothing to say to that

You think you’re smart sometimes, but you frequently get proven wrong

You thought she was just tripping

Now you realize this won’t be resolved until an apology has been made

So you just shut up and try to enjoy the ambience without seeming like an insensitive jackass

You feel pretty good, but at the very least you get that she doesn’t, and that you shouldn’t try to tell her she’s wrong for it

Her nervous energy is almost palpable, but the slowly-cooling air pushes it to the back of your mind

The fiery hues around you grow deeper and the shadows longer as the sun gets ready to bid the world farewell for a while

You nab another glass from a passing server, not bothering to look at what it is before taking a swig

It’s some type of sweet wine that your palette is too lazy to discern the exact nature of

That whole “spiritual growth” phase you went through evaporated pretty quickly once you and the princess were reunited, and since then you’ve been knocking ‘em back harder than ever

How could you not? Her idea of a balanced breakfast normally involves a double-digit number of mimosas

Lunch invariably comes with beer – from thick, chocolatey stouts during the coldest months to crisp, chilled lagers when summer rolls around

You don’t even know where to start with dinner

The crazy part is that between the magic that permeates your being and Luna’s proficiency with hangover cures, there is literally no consequence to your debauched lifestyle

All you do is eat, drink, fornicate, and show up at lavish social functions

Such as the one you’re attending now

Your college self would probably think you’re the coolest guy on the planet

A sudden wave of anxiety pulls you sharply out of your musings as the sky begins to darken

The sun has set, and the band strikes up a jazzy tune

But you don’t feel like dancing

Luna has gone positively rigid, her telepathic mutterings loud and chaotic

“We always meet for tea…” she whispers

“Dear, dear sister, you are treacherous, aren’t you?”

It’s not an accusation

It feels more like a concession

As though she’s admitting defeat

You catch her attention and cock an eyebrow

Her eyes drift upward and you follow her gaze

“I have to raise the moon,” she breathes

Despite her (mostly) unofficial position as the patron princess of night-time decadence, Luna has never missed a moonrise in all the time you’ve known her

She leaves the governing of Equestria – barring the catacombs – largely to her sister, but her nocturnal duties are performed with precision and reverence

In private

You wonder If maybe the sun’s rapid descent wasn’t just an illusion created by the music

“Please, Anonymous; she wouldn’t go that far”

You didn’t think you’d said that out loud

“No, she simply gambled on me being too preoccupied with her impending scrutiny and it paid off”

She pauses

A portion of the crowd is already eyeing her expectantly

Even the gentle rhythm of the band fades, as though they’re waiting for something

“Oh well,” she thinks at you, tone suddenly nonchalant and injected with confidence

“It’s been too long anyway”

As the last solar light slips behind the hills, her horn ignites, ensconced by a glow that swirls in bands of teal and silver

She takes a single deep breath, and begins to rise ever-so-slowly, the tips of her hooves lingering against the grass for a moment before she’s levitating in earnest

All eyes are on the night princess now, and as if on cue, the band begins to play a familiar song

A traditional evening waltz

Something that you’ve suspected more than once is her own composition

Bows against strings lay down the bouncing counts of three as the piano and harpsicord dance around each other

She rises further into the air, and the crowd’s gaze follows her, waiting with that unique reverence for the cycles of nature that is so deeply woven into pony culture

A small smile softens the austerity of her features, and you can feel the last of her worry evaporate as she quite literally does what she does best

When her eyes open, they cast a soft sterling glow, and a similar light grows beyond the distant mountains

Some call her reclusive

Quiet

Brooding

But it’s only because she spends too much time inside her own head

And everyone else’s, for that matter

Yet when she’s in the right mood, your princess loves an audience

And that mood now pervades this gathering

Her eyes close once more, and you swear you can see the flash of a grin as she beats her wings a few times, performing a graceful about-face towards the band

She raises a hoof, and the music swells in volume as the moon – waxing and nearly full – begins to crest the horizon

That same hoof falls, swings, and rises repeatedly, striking three imaginary points in space as she gently conducts both the musicians and the unfolding cosmic phenomenon before you

Some ponies turn to old or new partners and dance, while others – along with yourself – simply watch

You can practically feel the nighttime tonic that courses through your veins react to her magic, its effect transforming from hallucinogenic to illuminating as the pale light rises to dominate the world

Now, like always, you can feel your collective concerns fade into nothing

The night is her time, and she cannot help but revel in it

You can feel the moonlight touch your skin, energizing you, and its effects on your princess are just as noticeable

No anxious grumblings echo in your psyche

Only a gentle count

One two three…one two three…one two three…one two three

It’s hardly even vocalized, it simply ticks away like a metronome that only you can hear

The piece reaches its ethereal crescendo, and the nearly-perfect silver disk comes to a rest in the star-flecked sky, only the smallest hint of daylight lingering in its periphery

She draws her hoof down one final time, and the music ceases, leaving only the sound of crickets and cicadas to serenade those gathered

The silence lasts only a moment before the politely restrained – yet genuinely enthusiastic – stomping of hooves rumbles through the crowd

Luna bows modestly as she touches down, but you can see her smile

Darkness has fallen

You’re at a party

And that serene but infectious summer-night excitement electrifies the air

She is squarely in her element, and it shows

“And you were nervous,” you laugh, your words lost to all but her ears in the comfortable din of chatter that has overtaken the congregation

“Forgive me, dear heart,” she replies aloud with a wry smile, “I sometimes forget how enthralling I am”

You’re in the process of conjuring some sort of snide reply when you’re interrupted by a lyrical voice

“Enchanting indeed”

Luna turns her head slowly as the voice sounds again, soft but melodious and unmistakable

“I’m so glad you could finally make it, my dearest sister”

There are few forms of light as enchanting as that of the moon

But here is one of them

The gardens of Canterlot Castle are vast and varied, but this one particular corner might be your favorite

You’ve been here more times than you can count

Your shoes tap against pinkish flagstones, their shade vague and ruddy in the darkness

All around you are lanterns

Wrought iron frames hold panels of golden glass through which undying flames flicker

They burn day and night

During the daylight hours, they’re a curiosity

But after dusk, they’re something to behold

Like rays of sunshine captured and contained, staving off the night with warm, natural light

They’re wonderful, in the truest meaning of the word

At least that’s like, your opinion, man

As always, Luna’s eyebrows arch when she sees them, but she doesn’t say anything

“I haven’t been here since our last soiree,” Celestia comments, clearly intending to strike up a conversation

“Nor have we,” Luna replies like a knot being cinched

If the sun goddess feels any of the tension radiating off her sister – and you know she does – she doesn’t let on

Her smile is serene and immovable

That face, and that small, regal expression of tranquility is a more permanent fixture in this world than any mountain or ocean

Only once have you seen it break, and you’ve slowly realized that even if you live for the rest of eternity, it might still be a once-in-a-lifetime event

You wonder what it’s like to live with such a disparity of knowing

She knows most things

But what does anyone really know of her?

There are only two souls on this planet that have seen more than a brief glimpse of the emotions that roil within her chest, and you are not one of them

Her deliberately panning eyes linger on you for just a second, and you realize for the thousandth time that she can hear your every thought

So you shut up

You can’t straight-up stonewall her like certain people can, but you’ve gotten pretty good at thinking about nothing when you know she’s listening

If it bothers her, she gives no hint

“You did a lovely job this evening,” she begins again, prodding once more the void of silence that follows the three of you as you stroll slowly towards your destination

“Ah yes,” Luna frowns, “nothing quite like an unexpected performance”

Is this going to turn into a fight?

Celestia’s laugh is gentle and vaguely melodic

Like wind chimes

“I have trouble believing this particular one brought you no enjoyment,” she says

A smile teases at the corners of the younger alicorn’s mouth

If Luna has a retort, you don’t get to hear it, as the path you’re following promptly ends by opening up into a small outdoor dining area, encircled by hedges

At its center is a table, fashioned from the same wrought iron as the lanterns, upon which sits what is undoubtedly just the first course of a long meal

But you’re less concerned by what’s on the table and more by who’s sitting at it

Other than exchanging a few pleasantries with the sun princess, you’ve been largely silent for the last few minutes

It only took you a couple centuries to finally learn that you should shut up when the adults are talking

But you can’t contain yourself

Not around Princess Twi-Twi

“Dude”

“Anon!”

You rush past the elder princesses and scoop her up before she can even stand

Or at least you try to

She’s not so fun-sized anymore

The whole thing amounts to a probably awkward but definitely sincere bear hug, which she reciprocates

Then she hastily shoves you off

“Why haven’t you answered any of my letters?”

“Because every time I do you just send it back with a bunch of red marks”

“It’s for your benefit, Anon; hyphens are not optional.”

Dear god, you can hear the semicolon as though she’d pronounced it

Suddenly she remembers herself and turns to Luna, bowing low

“It’s wonderful to see you as always, Princess Luna.”

“And you as well, Princess Twilight,” Luna returns with a wry smile

No matter how long and how well she plays her part, there is one pony in Equestria who will never accept the fact that Twilight is a princess

Herself

Her relationship with the royal sisters is familial to say the least

But she never fails to treat them both with reverence

Adoration, as one mare once so aptly put it

Twilight’s crown – which she conveniently forgets to wear at all but the most official of functions – is not a symbol of royalty, but of accomplishment

An accomplishment she’d rather not brag about

The Golden Oaks is nothing more than a distant memory in the minds of a small few

But its librarian she will always be

“Let’s eat before the soup gets cold,” Celestia says, gently encouraging all present toward their seats while taking her own

“We have the whole night to catch up”

“Are we expecting somepony else?” Luna queries after settling in, noting the fifth chair and table setting

“Actually, princess, we assumed there would be three of you,” T-bone explains

“Ah, yes,” the night mare muses

“I’m afraid my humble entreaty was not enough to pry Nova away from taking inventory of our cellars”

“But maybe your request will bear more weight than mine”

Her eyes go slightly out of focus for a moment and then she blinks

“We’ll find out soon enough,” she finishes before grabbing a bowl of tomato bisque in her aura and taking a less-than-dainty draught of it

“Lu,” the sun princess mutters with furrowed brow, “do you remember what spoons are?”

“Of course, Tia,” her sister affirms quietly

“Good, it’s a notable piece of history”

She takes a sip of her own soup

“So,” she continues quickly, “how’s life in the attic?”

“Do not mock my domain, sister,” Luna cautions, turning her chin up

“Say what you will,” Celestia chuckles, “if we lived in a smaller house, it would be the attic”

“Considering how much we enjoy our music,” Luna amends without hesitation, “I would call it more of a belfry”

“Point taken, but in any case, you should leave it more often”

“And do what? Roam the empty streets and brood?”

“Luna, the world doesn’t just shut off at night”

“Since when?”

“Since we developed a decent infrastructure for delivering electricity and perfected sustainable light spells. You would benefit from some of both, all those torches and hearths are a fire hazard”

“The entire place is stone, Tia; it doesn’t burn very easily”

“Well, they’re still a waste of trees”

“There are plenty of trees, Tia”

“There could be more…”

“Very well,” Luna smirks, a flash of amusement flitting across her face as she speaks in a hasty whisper, “I will stop using torches if you stop drinking tea. It’s a waste of leaves”

“Leaves fall off of plants, Lu, it’s not the same thing”

“Are you saying that all of your tea is made from one-hundred percent naturally-detached leaves?”

“Yes”

“For what purpose?”

“For the sake of argument, apparently”

Celestia is too stately to shrug, but you can hear it in her voice

“Well,” Luna frowns thoughtfully during the briefest of pauses, “you win the argument but my opinion is unchanged. Congratulations on your success”

“It’s all so sudden, I just don’t know how to feel about it,” the sun princess admits

“Frame it as a political victory and throw a party,” the moon princess fires back immediately

“Very well,” Celestia nods sharply, “I officially repurpose this party to celebrate my recent triumph”

“Efficient,” Luna comments as she soaks up the last of her soup with a piece of bread

Her sister – now busy chewing as well – simply nods again and they finally fall silent

Some of their exchanges are fucking silly

But you’ve realized that you can’t judge anything they do because you’re missing literal aeons of context, and even more since you aren’t a telepath

It finally seems like you and Twilight might actually be welcome in this conversation, but when you open your mouth to say something, you are silenced by the look of agitation that crosses Celestia’s expression

“Oh, stop it,” she chides Luna, who simply grins

You glance across the table at Twi

Her eyes are darting back and forth between them

Being unable to hear half of what’s being said drives her up the wall

She once compared it to reading a book with every other line missing

“Anonymous,” the sun goddess prompts suddenly enough to make you jump, “tell me how you’ve been. Is she mistreating you terribly?”

You’re still tripping hard, and as your mind struggles to conjure a witty response, you realize that she already knows what you’re going to say while you’re struggling to figure it out

So you take your time

“I dunno,” you admit, “but next time I come far enough out of this booze and sex-induced coma to think straight, I’ll let you know”

And you thought you were going to sound like an idiot

Every syllable is pure swagger

The princess of the night casts you a look that’s trying to say “shut up, asshole”

But it comes across more as “that won’t happen anytime soon”

A mere snicker could never get the better of Celestia, but you can see her demure little smile turn up on one side

“Our second course should be here any moment now,” she announces

The corners of her mouth keep twitching, and Luna stares at her, unmoving, frown becoming more and more pronounced

You just look at Twilight and shrug

She shakes her head in what is mostly mock-exasperation

As if mandated by Celestia’s declaration, you hear hooves on the flagstones behind you, and suddenly your intimate little soiree is flooded with ponies whisking away empty dishes and replacing them with full ones, momentarily stopping the conversation

The next time Luna catches your eye, you can see a hint of annoyance

You hear a racket of stifled echoes in your head, none of which you can glean any meaning from

There are a million things she wants to tell you, but no thought is private in her sister’s presence

Of course, Celestia can’t help the way she is

With most ponies, she pretends she only hears their words, and they are absolutely ecstatic to just pretend along with her, if they even know otherwise

With friends like you and Nova, she’s more casual

Often when you have lewd thoughts

Twilight, though, will not let her in

It’s been like this since she was a filly, and it adds a layer to their relationship that you didn’t understand when you first met them

You asked Celestia about it once, back in the early days when you were young and douchey

“It’s not that I can’t hear or see her,” she’d explained after some deliberation

“If I look hard I can catch snippets, but they make no sense”

Luna has told you several times that trying to project into the youngest princess’s mind makes her feel dizzy

Basically Twilight has a firewall and encrypts all her files

She’s one of the few beings in existence with the magical discipline to do such a thing

But it’s probably also because she’s a massive dork and has devoted inordinate amounts of time and concentration to ensuring that nobody – especially her teacher-turned-paramour - intrudes on the roiling pot of spaghetti contained within her skull

And then there’s Luna

With everypony else under the sun, Celestia uses her powers respectfully

Playfully at most

But when it comes to her sister, she is – at least from your perspective – downright abusive of them

Always poking, prodding, reading, picking things out, and taunting

Then again, it’s a two-way street

Your empty bowl of soup is removed and replaced by a salad, which you eye skeptically

As salads go, it actually looks about as good as you can get

Beets, artichoke hearts, and halved cherries topped with various greens

You detect hints of lemon and raspberry in the vinaigrette that’s been drizzled over it

You’re in the middle of deciding whether or not to whine about it when another plate is slapped rather unceremoniously down next to it, and a heady aroma enters your nostrils

Steak and fried potatoes

The pony who put it there flashes you a smile and then takes the fifth seat at the table, between Luna and Twi

“I apologize for my tardiness,” Nova says, bowing apologetically to each of you in turn, “but I was already late, so I figured I could be a little later if it would spare us an evening of complaining”

“You carried a steak all the way from the catacombs?” Luna wonders bemusedly

“No,” Nova corrects, brushing a few strands of her moss-green mane out of her eyes, “I had it sent here yesterday, I just stopped in her majesty’s kitchen on my way here and had it cooked,” she nods respectfully toward Celestia

You’re only half-aware of the conversation as you tear into the slab of meat with reckless abandon

She even brought you a knife

“And you said you couldn’t come,” Luna smiles

“I truly wasn’t sure I could, your grace,” the pegasus explains between small but hungry bites of her own salad, “somepony has to keep the catacombs running smoothly”

“You could take an evening off here and there,” the night princess tuts

“You may have forgotten, my child, but I am perfectly capable of managing my own house”

“Not at all, your grace,” the former nocturne explains, “I’d just rather shoulder the mundanities myself so that you can concentrate on the important things”

You see a flash of emotion cross Luna’s face, but if she’s thinking something, she’s being quiet about it

You gulp another hastily-masticated chunk of meat down your gullet and give Nova a thumbs-up and a look that says “ayyy”

She responds with a gentle tilt of her head and a cordial smile, acknowledging your unspoken thanks

She talks shit, but you know the only reason that you’re not picking disinterestedly at your salad right now is because she likes you

“It’s great to see you again, Nova,” Princess Twiggles interjects, putting a hoof on the aforementioned pony’s shoulder

Celestia closes her eyes for a moment and raises her chin, silently echoing the sentiment

“The feeling is mutual, Twilight”

The lack of an honorific for the youngest princess is its own mark of respect

So here you all are at last

Your strange little club

The immortals

Of course there are many other ageless creatures who walk this earth

But each member of this particular circle was pivotally involved in one of the strangest, murkiest, most legend-shrouded events in “recent” Equestrian history

Remove any one of you from the equation, and things would’ve played out very differently

And considering how things did, in fact, play out, that could only be bad

Luna looks about, eyes blinking vacantly as if she’s remembering a cosmic truth

“Sister,” she says with sudden urgency, “where are the drinks?”

“Well, you’ll notice that there’s a glass of water next to your plate,” Celestia replies with serenity

“And if you’re looking for something more interesting, I have a wonderful elderflower tea we could try”

Luna just glowers at her with a monumentally bored expression

“I meant where are the drinks with alcohol in them?” the moon princess clarifies

“I know better than to serve you booze, Lu,” the sun goddess says with a Costanzian lift of her eyebrow, gaze falling on you as well

Nova, who has been quietly scarfing on her salad, bends down and reaches into the saddle bag she dropped to the ground when she arrived

You hear shuffling and the clink of glass

She sets a bottle of brandy on the table and deftly slides it over to the night mare

“Huzzah!” Luna shouts, uncorking the bottle via magic and raising her hoof to the sky in one swift gesture of victory

You grab your water glass, drain it, and set it back down

She fills it up and then takes a hearty swig from the source

Celestia sighs and Twilight rubs her temples

“Forgive me your majesty,” Nova says

“But I refer back to my previous comment about sparing us an evening of complaining”

“I can hardly even blame you,” Celestia laments with a smile

Mountains, oceans, and civilizations could rise and fall

The world could age past its prime

And she would probably still smile as long as present company remained

Well, except you

She could probably do without you

“Anonymous, please,” she scolds

“Please what?” wonders the voice in your head that you haven’t heard for a minute

“Oh,” you explain aloud to Luna, “I was thinking about, you know…last night, and she got mad when I stopped”

The sisters’ eyes lock, Twilight turns a decorative shade of maroon, and Nova snorts with sudden laughter

Unfortunately for you, it only takes the OG diarchy about twenty seconds of thought-swapping and subdued gesticulating to figure out that you’re attempting to fuck with them, and you feel a hoof slap your arm

It smarts, but considering she could’ve ejected your collarbone through your left shoulder if she had half a mind to, you consider it a mercy

A certain former bat pony is kekling quietly to herself as she polishes off the last of the table bread

Purple knows she needs to be embarrassed, but she’s not quite sure what about anymore

Her eyes once again dart back and forth between the two eldest princesses

Celestia’s gaze is locked on Luna’s, eyebrows arched

Their features twitch almost imperceptibly, and sometimes one of them laughs quietly

Nova takes this opportunity to steal a single swig from the bottle of brandy

Twilight sighs and concentrates on her salad

Every time you all get together, it’s exactly like this

But nobody ever gets tired of it

It’s something you never understood in your old life:

No matter what each of you might be to the rest of the world, you act like idiots around each other

Because that’s what it means to be a family

Celestia is full of shit

She never meant to keep this a dry dinner

Saying there’s no alcohol is just “fucking with Luna” 101

However, it seems she didn’t anticipate Nova circumventing her, and by the time the sommelier shows up, everyone but herself and Twilight is in varying stages of intoxication, with the aforementioned pegasus being on the “acceptable” end of the spectrum and Luna being pretty far off on the other end

The sun princess orders something to be polite, but you can tell she’s going to guard it

“So sister, how goes the daylight world?” Luna asks with a polite yet well-lubricated lilt and a pleasant smile

“You could always come see for yourself,” Celestia points out

“I could,” the moon princess acknowledges, “but if you simply tell me, I can maintain my current schedule and we will have a conversation topic”

The expression on the eldest sister’s face is the same one worn by someone folding a hand of poker

Except for the smile

“Oh, you know, Lu,” she laughs, “same as always. Running a nation is boring; it’s the people that make the job fun”

“Agreed,” Luna assents

Celestia taps her chin with a hoof, and the corner of her mouth twitches upward

“Hmm…remind me which state you run again?” she asks

“Do not mock me, sister, I do my part,” the night mare retorts haughtily

“If I appear unburdened by my duties, it is due to my mastery of laissez-faire governance and my expertise in delegation”

“And Nova,” Celestia adds

“Yes, I said ‘expertise in delegation’,” Luna reminds

“At least she owns up to it,” Nova shrugs

“Also, you have my deepest sympathies, your majesty,” she adds with a nod

“Hmm,” the sun princess hums

“Perhaps we should make it official and appoint you to rule in my sister’s stead”

“That’s more or less been done,” Nova says proudly, taking another small sip from the rapidly-diminishing bottle of brandy

“I’m vested with all the same powers as her grace; only her word can veto mine”

“And that’s happened all of once in the last decade”

“The catacombs have one tavern, my child, you cannot revoke its liquor license,” Luna chastises

“It never had a liquor license, your grace,” Nova explains for the hundredth time, “that was the entire issue”

“Well, now it does”

“Signed by yourself, no less”

“Indeed. I believe the proprietors had it framed”

“Well,” Celestia interjects, “I envy you, Lu”

“If I had a willing progeny to take up my mantle, I suppose I might indulge a bit”

Twilight quietly raises her hoof

“This hypothetical mare you speak of sits next to you,” Luna scoffs, indicating Purple

“Tia,” she continues with as much sternness as her loosened lips can effect, “do you truly aim to rule this land for the rest of eternity?”

She grabs the brandy, but her hoof stops in the midway to her lips and she eyes it suspiciously, swirling the nearly-depleted contents

Her eyes dart toward Nova, who frowns slightly, as if to say “hey, I’m the one who brought it”

Moons takes a not-so-dainty slug and then presses on

“The way I see it, we are due for a changing of the guard, so to speak”

“New blood brings new ideas and all that”

“Are you being serious?” the sun goddess demands

Her smile stays put and she keeps her tone neutral, but her eyes narrow slightly

“This is my duty”

“Our duty”

“Our duty is to keep this world safe,” Luna counters, “not obsess over the political machinations of a single nation”

“You forget you forged that crown; it did not fall to earth atop your head”

Celestia opens her mouth but falters mid-breath, and her eyes begin to smolder

You see Nova’s ears prick up, as if searching for the source of a distant racket

But you have an open link in your mind, and you hear it with painful clarity

The moon princess does not wish to be interrupted

“You look down on me, sister,” she says slowly and softly, suddenly looking very, very sober

“Don’t pretend otherwise”

The noise rises further

When she speaks it echoes her like a chorus, and when she pauses it forms a blockade that precludes reply

The sunny smile quavers

Then Celestia’s horn flashes almost imperceptibly

Like a match igniting and exhausting itself in a fraction of a second

“Do you really want to have this conversation here?” she half-whispers

Her eyes are slightly unfocused, but her expression recovers

“What other place could we have it?” Luna wonders sharply

“We all have a stake in this”

“You look down on me,” she repeats

“As though I’ve lost my way and sight of my purpose”

“But the feeling is mutual”

“You languish at your post”

“You wish to remain the unwavering beacon of stability you believe our people need”

“Yet your tired eyes exhaust me, and your porcelain smile is like a lead weight attached to my heart by nails”

“Where is your might? Where is Celestia Invictus, whose words united hearts and minds, and whose ambition raised cities and armies? Whose judgement vanquished gods and sealed foes without hesitation? Who stood upon the Foundation and declared in multitonal defiance that to challenge its wellbeing was to suffer her wrath?”

She pauses again, and the din surges further

Even with her spell, Celestia can only hold her ground, not retort

“You needn’t answer, for I know what happened,” Luna sighs

“She waned with her passion, ichor slowly sapped from her veins in the form of ink bled onto untold sheaves of parchment”

“She became a politician, who drinks expensive teas, signs trade agreements, and officiates empty ceremonies that celebrate events she has forgotten the true meanings of”

“You are but a shade of what you could be, yet you look at me with disdain and disappointment”

“And then you lament my hesitance to accept your dinner invitations”

Silence falls, both within and without

You and Nova exhale in relief

Twilight listens with rapt attention, eyes wide and worried

For a moment, Celestia almost looks like she’s sleeping

But then she awakens, face as pleasant and serene as ever

Her gaze locks on her sister’s

“You speak no lies,” she says, her voice the first ray of light after the passage of a storm

“You see hearts as I see minds, little sister”

“I only hope you turn that sight on yourself once in a while”

“You know I have,” Luna reminds her, eyes flashing with sterling light

You didn’t realize the music had stopped until it resumes again

The band is far away, but you can hear their reprise of the evening waltz drift back into your consciousness

Celestia waits to speak, as her previously-ordered wine has arrived

She tastes the proffered glass thoughtfully and then nods, taking a second sip once it’s been filled

As the server’s hoofsteps fade into the path behind you, she takes another, longer drink

“You’re so melodramatic sometimes, Luna”

“I know, Tia”

“But all things considered, could I be any other way?”

“No, you really couldn’t,” the day mare smiles

Not for the first time, your realize that you are far out of your depth

When she says “all things considered,” she truly means all things

Every last one of them

From the day this world was born

“What’s up, Low-T?”

You sit down on the grass next to Twilight

She’s out of the way, on the periphery of the party, just watching the band play and the ponies dance

She sits among the daffodils and underneath the canopy of an aged tree

You’re familiar with this spot

She once slapped the shit out of you right where you sit

Her eyes meet yours with a half-smile, then turn back toward the musicians

Or the sky beyond them, judging by the thousand-yard stare she’s wearing

You give her a quick double-tap on the shoulder

“You’ve been real quiet lately, man”

“It’s making me nervous”

The music – another slowly-stepping, jazzy number – hushes your voice, and you wonder if she even heard you

But after a moment, she responds in a tone that makes you yearn for a younger, chattier Twilight

“The catacombs must be nice at this time of year”

“Yeah, they’re pretty dope”

“Do you still walk around those old ramparts sometimes?”

“Sometimes”

“Is tonight gonna be one of those times?”

“Probably,” you say innocently

You don’t think about it too hard

The two sisters stand a few yards away from you in the center of the congregation

You can see Celestia’s lips moving in whispers

They’re probably talking about something horrendously boring

Like the unfortunate state of crops in Equestria this year

A lot of them have been dying, and you reflect that the salad you didn’t eat was probably worth several hundred bits

“You need to loosen up though, Purps”

When Twi looks at you, her eyes are weary and heavy

“Remember that time we were sitting right here and I punched you in the face for having sex dreams about me?” she wonders, words a jarring contrast to her expression

“Look, if you’re still pissed about tha-”

“Shut up,” she barely breathes, and you do

“Keep thinking about that, and don’t stop”

“We need to talk in private,” she whispers hastily, her words becoming part of the memory

“Yeah I got that. I’ll be there,” you hiss, conjuring detailed recollections of each time she smacked you

“Good, now think of something else”

“Why do you always have to hit?” you mutter bitterly

“Anon, that was two centuries ago, I’ve done worse things to you since then”

“Whatever, you’re a spazzlord”

“I’m a spazz princess, and you will treat me like one”

“I am”

“I am,” she echoes you with a whiny voice and a stupid expression

You both fall silent

She still looks strung out, but at least she’s smiling

“Wanna dance?” you ask after a minute

Her eyes shift back and forth, as if physically searching for a good reason why she can’t

But all they see is a cool night, a beautiful sky, and happy ponies laughing and swaying to music

“Fine,” she grumbles, “but you lead”

“You’re damn right I will,” you grin, dragging her into the thick of the party

You find a nice spot and turn, grabbing her forehooves and lifting her up

She sets her back ones on top of your shoes and basically just lets you swing her around

“You’re so fucking lazy”

“You’re one to talk,” she spits back with narrowed eyes

“You might as well be the prince of lechery and alcoholism, and the only reason it isn’t official is because you guys are too lazy to make it”

“Hey”

“Hey”

“C’mon”

“I can’t argue with any of that, but don’t be a dick”

She stomps on your toe and you wince

You begin moving in tighter, quicker circles

You saw her stuffing all that spinach quiche into her face

“Anon, you’re gonna make me barf!”

“That’s what you get for being a Twiggy-piggy,” you tut, twirling her around sharply

“Eat me,” she growls

“I would,” you say thoughtfully, “but I like lean meat”

She attempts to stomp your foot again, but misses as you turn, throwing you off and nearly dropping both of you

“Why are you so hell-bent on not having fun?” you wonder, slowing down a bit and regaining your balance

“Because this isn’t the place for it!” she snaps, her eyes losing track of your face for a moment

“Right”

“Midsummer evening parties are super serious”

“So where’s that dragon man?” you ask after she fails to uphold her end of this bantering contract

“If you actually cared, you’d already know,” she replies crossly

“Whoa, what’s with the hostility?”

“We’ll talk about it later”

Her gaze digs into yours, but it’s not because she’s angry

You feel her tense in your grasp

She taps a last reminder on your shoulder and then falls back onto all fours as the sisters approach

This party has been going on for a while, so all present have already bowed to them, but they still draw eyes and hush words wherever they walk

Due to their dichotomous nature, Celestia and Luna aren’t seen together all that often

But when they do walk side by side, they command attention whether they want to or not

And right now, they definitely do not

Their faces show only well-rehearsed neutrality, but you can tell the bickering that began during dinner has continued throughout the evening

You wish you could say this was an unusual occurrence, and you don’t need telepathy to know that Twiggles feels the same

When at last they stand close, Luna speaks, clearly more for your benefit than Celestia’s

“This has been a lovely affair, sister,” she assures, “but it’s time we took our leave”

Her eyes meet yours, and their message is clear

We are leaving right the fuck now, and don’t you dare say “but I’m having fun”

You exchange pleasant goodbyes with Celestia and a quick glance with Twilight

Oh boy, here we go

“Impossible!” Luna huffs, stamping her hoof with enough force to put a few hairline fractures in the stone beneath

“From the beginning of time, and likely to the ends of the earth”

“Arrogant”

“Judgmental”

“Denser than a collapsed star!”

“I’m pretty sure she thinks the same thing about you”

“Of course she does, Anonymous; It’s called being wrong”

“Right”

Tonight has been a by-the-numbers interaction between the two sisters, right down to this: the post-conflict bitching session, of which Twilight is probably hearing the other half right now

“Did you hear what she called me? A ‘lecherous drunk’, if you can believe that”

Not the first time this evening you’ve heard that sentiment, and it stands as a rare shred of proof that Twilight and Celestia do, in fact, have private conversations

“I’m sorry, Anonymous,” she says suddenly, stopping in her tracks

Her last hoofstep echoes through the long, claustrophobic tunnel that you’ve become so used to

“I know you don’t wish to hear all of this again, but she just frustrates me so”

“I cannot help myself”

“Would you be happier if she just disappeared?” you ask her earnestly

“Anon!” she gasps in horror

“See?” you snap, jabbing a finger at her, and she balks

It’s something only you can make her do, and you’re not sure how to feel about that

Well, currently you feel bad

You’re sick of the arguing and you’re starting to come down

You’re not actually mad at her

“Look, Moons,” you sigh, leaning against the wall and slowly sitting down

You’re probably going to fuck up your suit, but you don’t care

Now you’re looking up at her instead of the normal vice-versa

“No matter what kind of problem you think she’s got with you, I was there after you got yourself vaporized”

Memories of the sun goddess’s bloodshot eyes once again flit across your psyche

“When are you going to cut her some slack?”

“You never give an inch – neither of you do – and it’s hard on everyone, not just you”

“This is how it’s always been, Anonymous,” she explains simply

What can you say to that?

Nothing

So you shift gears

“Look, why don’t you just forget about it for now? Let’s get home and have some fun”

Her severe expression softens, and you see a smile begin to split her features

Not a small, unmoving smile

But the beginnings of a grin

The night is still young, after all

If you asked the average Equestrian citizen to point out Canterlot Castle, he or she would invariably point to the imposing, gold and white spires that dominate the city’s skyline

Even in your mind and – you suspect – in Luna’s, this is the obvious truth

But if one wished to get technical about it for whatever reason, they might bring up the fact that officially – thought it’s rarely discussed – the Castle is much, much larger

The more intrepid explorer of those stately alabaster chambers might find at least one of the unassuming doors that leads into the vast network of caverns that wind through Canterlot Mountain

And our adventurer would eventually find himself here, at the mountain’s peak, in this macabre domain that exists just on the edge of public consciousness

It has many names depending on who’s speaking of it

But those who dwell there know it as the catacombs

The sovereign realm of the night princess

It has been many things throughout the ages

A tower of isolation

A fortress

When you first laid eyes upon it, it was a prison

A house full of sad, lonesome souls, clinging to their last shreds of pride and decency

Ruled over by the saddest, loneliest soul of them all

But in a flash of insight, it all changed

The narrow walls of the tunnel suddenly give way to a wider, lamp-lit cavern of gray stone, and the sound of music that’s been dancing in your aural periphery for the past few minutes finally becomes plain

It is nothing like the light, airy tunes characteristic of Celestia’s parties

You hear the thump of a double bass following a bouncy but dark, minor scale

Accompanying it is the sound of an accordion and a fiddle, weaving meandering melodies around each other

There is no structure to speak of

They just play, and it sounds lovely

They nod respectfully as you and the night princess come into view

The fiddler – an aged yet stately-looking stallion with a cutie mark that depicts a ray of light refracted through a beer mug – beams at you

A casual observer would assume that his graying mane and weathered features put him in his late fifties

But you know his life has stretched out four times what it appears, and will likely continue far beyond that of any foal born this very day

The same magic that permeates your being also lives in him, though to a lesser degree

“Good evening, gentlecolts,” Luna smiles at them

The momentary flourish in their playing conveys more reverence than any amount of genuflecting ever could

The isolation of the quiet corner they’ve picked for their practice evaporates as you walk around a bend, and the bustle of night invades your ears

If the catacombs had a town square, this would be it

A vast cavern, wide and open to the night air

It used to be the great hall – Luna’s throne room, essentially – but the ceremonial solemnity of days past has been chipped away with each new window carved into its once-impenetrable walls

Now, a different kind of grandness ensconces it – the light of lamps and the commotion of those ponies who choose to wake in the dark

All around you are small storefronts, some legitimate structures built from wood and stone, others nothing more than blankets with various wares laid upon them

Your princess steps into a ray of pale moonlight, and salutations ring from all directions

There is none of the polite bowing and hushed muttering that greets her in the outside world

“Princess Luna!”

“Welcome back, Princess!”

“Hey, Anonymous! How’s it goin’?”

“The princess is here! Bring out the ale!”

A young pegasus mare trots up to the two of you

You don’t know her name, but when you see her pale-white coat and mossy mane, you recognize her for old blood

Nocturn blood

Her hair is long and purposefully unkempt

Atop her head rests a hat that looks like it’s woven out of plant fibers

She smiles brightly, reaching up and placing a flower – one of the orchids that grow only in these caverns – behind Luna’s ear

“Your grace,” she breathes

She couldn’t do the same to you without lifting off the ground, so instead she hoofs you a second flower, her smile showing a pair of canines that are ever-so-slightly more pronounced than that of the average pony

“Blessed be,” she says, beaming like a crescent moon

You place the flower in your lapel

As you stroll deeper amongst the catacombs’ denizens, a few foals – mostly fillies – follow at the alicorn’s heels

They point at her hair and try to touch it, laughing whenever they do

You know it feels like starlight

Most – but not all – are pegasi

And of those, only a few sport the earthy tones that mark them as the true children of this place

You approach the center of the square

Most of the ponies lavish their attentions on the princess

But many also call to you

Friends and acquaintances

You wave to them

Before you stands a great statue

A perfect likeness of the mare by your side

You don’t need to read the inscription; you know it by heart

“Procer Luna Invictus”

“Bringer of darkness and of light”

“She who gave us the night”

“Also returned to us the day”

“Luna nobis providet”

“Do you have any plans for this evening, Princess?” one pony wonders

You know him as Barley, both the proprietor of the tavern and the catacombs’ resident brewmaster

The most prominent and well-attended construction in this courtyard

It spills out from the eastern wall, happy patrons sipping wine and beer at tables that drift all the way from the humble wooden front to the hooves of the stone-rendered alicorn in the yard’s center

“Indeed I do, Barleywine,” Luna assures him, “and I’m hoping it might involve a cask of your namesake”

“Alright,” he chuckles, “I’ll put it on your tab”

“One day I might pay that tab,” the princess smiles, “and make you the richest stallion in all Equestria”

“Eh, no rush,” he shrugs before trotting off

You and Luna take your seats at your usual table

A couple of young mares were keeping them warm, but they graciously surrender their chairs

One of them – a pegasus with enormous, colorful eyes – steals a chair from nearby and sits down next to you, but the other – a pinkish unicorn – bows long and low enough to mark her as uninitiated

To your surprise, she repeats the gesture toward you

Both her friend and the princess laugh, and the mare looks confused and worried

“You must be new here,” you say

“And already committing some kind of faux pas, I see,” she sighs

“Nah, it’s just that anyone who hangs around here knows I don’t deserve any respect”

“Nor do I,” Luna adds

The mare seems taken aback

“If you’re looking for somepony to show your deference to, look for a mare with golden eyes whose cutie mark is a great star”

“Goes by the name of Nova”

“She’s the only one keeping this ship from sinking”

“I…”

The mare searches for words

“I am Luna,” your princess introduces herself, extending a hoof, “but it appears you already know that”

“Easel,” the unicorn says hastily, shaking the hoof with trepidation, “but everypony calls me Easy”

“Alright, Easy E,” you grin

“Fuck the police”

“This is Anonymous,” Luna continues, “dimensional traveler, self-professed philosopher, and my scandalous, unwedded lover”

“Ayyy,” you say with a Fonzarellian smile and two thumbs to the sky

Barleywine returns with barrel of his eponymous specialty

You gratefully accept the proffered mug

Moons drains hers in one astounding gulp and slams it back on the table, wordlessly demanding more

Once she gets her refill she tells the stallion to bring two more for your company

“You look uneasy, Easy,” she says between draughts

“Tell me, what brings you to my odd little corner of Equestria?”

“And more importantly, who brings you here? There isn’t exactly a staircase”

There are only two ways into this place

A well-hidden network of tunnels that only you, the sisters, Nova, and a few others know the locations of

And wings

“To answer your second question first,” Easel explains, “her”

She indicates her pegasus friend

You know the mare well

Apart from the shock of white in her bangs, her colors are dark, but her eyes are big and bright

A former nocturne

Prism

Daughter of the fiddler you saw on your way in, and a mother who died long ago

You wonder if this young unicorn friend of hers knows just how old she is

On the surface, Prism looks to be a mare in her early twenties

But you know that those eyes – a sunburst of green, yellow, and blue – have seen the last two centuries, just as you have

About a year ago, Luna asked her if she would go check on a few things in Hollow Shades

She did her work and then decided to stay for a while

But now she’s returned, and it seems she’s brought this nice filly with her

“Judging by the way you look at her,” Luna proposes, “you’ve answered my first question as well”

“I’m a painter,” Easel says, cheeks turning red, “I’m just here to meet other ponies like me”

“You’ll find many,” the moon princess assures

“I know,” the unicorn replies, almost giddily

“I’ve never seen a place like this”

She gestures broadly to the courtyard and its open walls

The innumerable lanterns that provide just enough light without competing with the stars

And the leisurely chatter of the night in full swing

“Do you all really just sleep during the day? Like, all the time?”

“Someone’s always awake, but yeah, that’s kind of our thing…one of them, anyway”

When you speak, her ears twitch

You can tell she’s still not quite sure what to make of everything she’s seeing

She looks you over, clearly debating whether to say the thing she wants to say

“Are you guys vampires?” she blurts out

Luna tries to be polite, but she isn’t Celestia, and makes a sound that – were you to try and transcribe it in letters – would be spelt “snrrrkt”

You crack a huge smile

Prism straight up loses her shit, rolling onto her back and having an immense giggle

“Only if you bleed wine,” Luna smirks, draining another mug

“It’s just what I’ve heard,” Easel clarifies sheepishly, “ponies say there are vampires here”

“Ponies who have bat wings and fangs”

“Ponies who live forever”

“Hey Prizz,” you snicker drunkenly, “show us your fangs”

“Blaaargh,” Prism cackles, holding her forehooves at her cheeks as though they’re a great pair of sharp teeth

“Come now, you two,” the princess chastises to the best of her ability, “no need to make our new friend feel foolish”

“Those legends are mostly exaggeration and hearsay,” Luna tells Easel plainly, “but they are based in truth”

“That truth is something I will leave to my children to tell you,” she nods toward Prism

“They know it far better than I do”

“I will not lie”

“If you choose to make a home of this place, you will find that there is more to them than what you can see right now”

“But you will not find malevolence”

Easel remains silent, curious but suddenly pensive

Barley returns with two more mugs, setting them down in front of their new keepers

“Need anything else, Princess?” he asks

“Or can I go serve the paying customers now?”

“Shoo,” Luna says, waving her hoof

With a short salute, he trots off

“Prism”

“Yes, your grace?”

The still-giggling mare stands at attention

“Go fetch your father and his friends”

“I require music”

She moves to stand, but is sat right back down on her ass by a violent tremor that rattles the catacombs and the city beyond

There is a collective “woah!” from the crowd around you, and then hooves begin to stomp in applause

Prism’s laughter begins anew, but Easel looks absolutely terrified

“What was that?” she demands as the quake and the resulting ovation subside, and the gathered ponies go about the business of righting the few things that have been toppled

“We’ve been having earthquakes lately,” you inform her

“I know what an earthquake is like” the unicorn squeaks in agitation, holding onto the table as though it might save her should the entire world be thrown into tumult, “and that is not it”

“This mountain is anchored to the earth by a foundation of magic,” Luna elaborates

“Every century or two, it shifts a bit”

“It’s jarring – and in fact I can’t remember the last time it was quite so restless – but it should cease in a few months”

You feel for Easel

It freaked you out the first time, too

You grew up in Cali, so you know all about earthquakes

But this is different than what you were used to

It started about a month ago

Every once in a while, the mountain moves

But it’s not just a random commotion like two tectonic plates grinding against each other

It turns

Just a few degrees at a time, but Canterlot Mountain is undeniably – for whatever reason – turning counter-clockwise

Celestia has assured the citizens of the city proper many times that it’s happened before and is nothing to worry about

Luna has been spared similar addresses by the fact that nobody in the catacombs particularly cares

Every time it happens, you hear echoes in your head, and you wonder if she’s really as unconcerned as she appears

“Do it again!” somepony shouts in the distance

The sentiment is greeted by laughter and another round of applause

“Prism?”

“Oh, right. Music”

The pegasus stands with a nearly-convincing air of sobriety and takes a momentary leave

Of course the night princess could easily summon the fiddler herself, but there are certain ponies between whom she encourages interaction

Before her return, you didn’t hang around the catacombs as much as you should’ve

However, even you remember a period of Prism’s protracted youth during which she wouldn’t speak to her father

But time heals all wounds, and if there’s one thing that the children of the night have in spades, it’s time

“So, Easel,” Luna prompts, “tell us about yourself”

“Wait, really?”

“Whyever not?”

“I don’t know…I just never imagined I’d be sitting on top of a moving mountain with one of the royal sisters and” – she looks at you, and you can see she isn’t taking things nearly as lightly you are – “whoever in Tartarus this guy is”

“What the hell did I do?”

“And that they’d be like ‘hey, Easy, talk about your stupid life’”

“Dear girl, calm down”

“Yeah, don’t freak out, everything’s cool”

“Oh okay,” Easy laughs hoarsely, “the ruler of Equestria and the giant hairless monkey in a silk suit are telling me not to freak out, I guess I’m ready for the ground to move again!”

She’s sweating visibly

Oh shit

You’ve done enough acid to recognize a panic attack when you see one

You cast an imploring gaze at Moons, but she’s way ahead of you

“Shh,” she whispers gently to the trembling unicorn, placing a hoof on her shoulder, “don’t be afraid”

“I’m sorry,” Easel shudders, “this happens to me sometimes”

“It’ll go away soon, I’m sorry”

You hear the murmuring on the edge your consciousness that tells you Luna is casting a familiar old spell

No glow emanates from her horn

It’s a quiet, innate magic

“Slow the heart to tick with time”

“Thy breath re-tuned to grand design”

“I will thee soothed in soul and mind”

“Sorrows thine instead be mine”

Suddenly and without knowing why, Easy breathes easy

You see a hint of disquiet cross your princess’s face before she swallows the emotion

“Gods damn it”

Prism has returned, and it only takes her a moment to ascertain what’s happened

She says nothing else, rushing to Easel’s side

“You’re okay,” she whispers

“You’re okay”

The unicorn’s cheeks are flushed, and the barest hints of tears glisten at the corners of her eyes, but that’s basically it

Prism must know her very well, and you realize Luna’s earlier joke was not a joke at all

There’s something there

Three ponies stop at the edge of your vision

Two of them you only know casually

The earth pony mare who carries the double bass awkwardly on her back, and the brightly-colored pegasus stallion with an accordion slung around his neck

But the third is your friend Light Bender

He watches his daughter, and you see warmth spreading across his features, touched by the most distant hint of sadness

“I know you miss her, mate”

You only think it at him, and you know he can’t hear

Not for the first time, you wish you had Luna’s abilities of projection

“I’m fine,” Easel says, voice rapidly regaining its buoyancy

“Really”

“I’m sorry,” Prism laments, “I shouldn’t’ve left you here, not even for a minute”

“No, I’m actually okay”

“False alarm”

“She’s got terrible nerves,” the bright-eyed pegasus explains to you

“I’m sorry, your grace, but I think we should retire for the evening,” she apologizes, turning to the princess

“You’ve got the best musicians in all of Canterlot, now. You don’t need us anymore”

“Prism, I’m good!” Easel insists, thumping her hoof on the table with a force that falls just shy of aggressive

They stare at each other for a moment and Prism relaxes, dropping the subject

Luna is already looking expectantly at the band

They take their positions by the statue and begin to play a more polished-sounding version of what you heard on your way in

Light Bender’s eyes never leave the two young mares

“Young” being a relative term in one case

But far from distracting him, their interactions only make his notes ring clearer

“How is Hollow Shades?” Luna wonders as if nothing had happened

“Different,” Prism says emphatically, eyes still darting to her friend repeatedly

Easel’s cheeks are red, and you realize she probably feels as though she’s been humiliating herself for the last half hour

You just smile at her and try to communicate with every fiber of your being that everything’s cool

Almost anything goes in the catacombs, but embarrassment has no place here

“There’s a couple neighborhoods here and there that still feel like the old days,” the pegasus continues, “but it’s not like here”

“The only way you’d know it used to be ours is from some of the architecture. It’s mostly day-ponies now”

She pauses thoughtfully, her gaze finally leaving Easel alone

“It’s a good change though,” she admits

“It’s full of joy…so I guess, actually, it’s a lot like here”

“Just different”

“That’s good to hear,” Luna smiles, a hint of melancholy on her words

“Is it still a beautiful sight at night?”

“Yeah, it is,” Prism affirms, “but now it’s beautiful during the day, too”

That tinge of gloom lifts from the princess, and she grins, eyes growing a bit misty

“You know,” she begins, “I wonder if I picked you so that I wouldn’t hear anything bad about it…”

“Oh I was getting to the massive prostitution ring,” the pegasus explains, waggling a hoof

“What’s messed up is how it ties into the underground meat trade over there”

“Except something like that,” Luna finishes

Easel winces, looking annoyed

“Just don’t order anything rare, you could end up with crotch rot,” Prism adds

You swallow deliberately, determined not to let the strong drink escape through your nose and ruin everyone’s evening

You hear the violin stutter as the one musician following the conversation struggles as well

The unicorn just hangs her head and shakes it slowly

“Noted,” the night princess nods primly

“Was she always like this?” Easel asks nobody in particular, voice dripping with reprehension

“Yes,” Luna replies serenely, and you bob your head both in affirmation and time to the music

Another small tremor runs through the ground, much less pronounced than the last

But Prism’s hoof instinctively finds its way to her friend’s shoulder, providing immediate reassurance

A few whistles and hoof-stomps echo throughout the open cavern, but nobody pays it much mind

“It’s nice to have you back, young one,” the alicorn continues, smiling at the wide-eyed pegasus, “and it was lovely to meet you, Easel,” she turns toward the mare in question, who tries to act cordial despite being agitated in several different ways

“But I’m afraid it’s time Anonymous and I took our leave for the evening”

“We’ve a few things to attend to”

“I bet you do, your grace,” Prism smirks, waggling her eyebrows

“Try not to wake up all of Canterlot”

You lie in bed, gazing up at the ceiling and its silver-inlaid mural

“Luna provides for us,” it too says in the old tongue

This evening has been atmospheric and eventful, but it’s brought nothing different than the countless other nights that stretch back over this last decade since her remaking

This is your life now: an endless series of parties, soirees with friends – new and old – and leisurely or passionate moments with your princess in this very room

The lingering effects of her concoction and copious amounts of barleywine – the drink, not the pony – course through your veins, and despite the clock only just having struck three, you feel like sleeping

But you can’t

She’s trying to be quiet, but the little tunnel that connects your minds echoes periodically with muted unease

You roll off the bed and stand, making a semi-legitimate effort to smooth out the creases in your silver-lined, midnight-blue suit of silk

It’s your own design, and it’s meant to make a single statement:

That you are hers

A younger, stupider version of yourself would most certainly have protested the sentiment

“Women are supposed to belong to their men,” he would’ve said with a half-ironic tip of his imaginary fedora

This is wrong

It is quite possible that you are the longest-lived human being ever to walk the multiverse

Two-hundred and thirty-five years old

The first quarter-century of that time, you didn’t know her

But from the moment you met her until right here and now, you haven’t gone a single night without thinking of her

Even though she wasn’t there for most of it, the enchantment she cast on your mind, body, and soul followed you, no matter how far you wandered across this wonder-filled world that has become your home

Waiting for her

Because you are Anonymous, and you belong to Princess Luna

“Moons?”

Her hooves are draped over the railing of the balcony

She acknowledges you with a glance, but then her gaze returns to the night sky, playing distractedly with the positions of the stars

You kiss her on one ear, and it twitches

Your hands find their way to her shoulders and you attempt to knead them as the cool air licks your face and the beads of summer sweat on your brow

It’s like trying to massage a warm chunk of titanium

“Forgive me, dear heart,” she whispers before you can say anything

Her silver eyes meet yours

“I’m simply dwelling on my own inadequacies, as all weak souls are wont to do”

Though you’ve heard similar words many times before, they still stir you

“My sister is right,” she continues, occluding your reply as you set down beside her, back against the rail, staring in the direction opposite her own sight, “I am nothing but a lecherous drunk”

You want to say something, but you know better than to interrupt her, so you just keep your hand pressed against her back in a silent gesture of affection

“It wasn’t so reprehensible when the world was young and vast and in constant tumult”

“But I’ve only been present a mere hoof-ful of years out of the past twelve-hundred”

“And I cannot help but wonder how I am supposed to be a leader when I myself have only just begun to understand how to be a decent person”

“This is why Nova is more fit for the task than I am”

She falls silent, long enough that you know she’s inviting you to speak

“You’re taking too much from them, Luna, and it’s starting to mess you up”

You refer to something she said to you long, long ago:

“I must carry the weight of ponykind’s sins, both great and small. I walk through their dreams to try and show them the error of their ways when they stray from the light, but even I cannot help them all. Sometimes I am too late”

“So I take from them their guilt, that they might be pure again. Like my sister. Like the sun”

But since the last eclipse that brought her back, she has used her nebulous powers for something more than that

Two-hundred years ago, Luna sacrificed herself to right a terrible wrong she’d unknowingly committed

Not to redeem herself, but to assuage a great ache and sadness, much of which resided in her own heart

Now, she strives to do the same every day

She did it earlier this evening when Easel – a pony she’d never even met before – threatened to lose herself

She took the hurt and swallowed it, where it will wait until the next blood moon to be expunged from the world

And from her

“It’s the one good thing I can do, my love,” she tells you

“I can take pain away”

“That was supposed to be a last resort, wasn’t it?” you ask

“Something you could do when everything else failed”

“Who’s to say it hasn’t?” she questions

“Why should I waste my nights trying to make ponies see their mistakes when I can do the work for them?”

She has not walked in others’ dreams in a long time

Save yours

“Because,” you say, leaning your head against her wing, arms wrapping around her waist, “it’s eating you up”

“Anonymous,” she sighs, letting you untangle yourself from her before she sits down next to you

“I have wracked my brain for a better idea”

“For a better thing to be”

“But I haven’t found one”

She lays her head on your chest, and you can feel the tension in her every muscle as you cradle her

“It’s funny”

“I always tell my sister that she could be more than what she is”

“It is my meritless opinion that she is far too caught up in the political trifles of this one particular corner of the world”

“But even so, she is compassionate, charitable, and optimistic in her every word and action, and she is devoted to her leadership with an integrity I can never hope to possess”

“So really, how can I criticize her for forgetting her supposed ‘place’ when I have no idea what mine is?”

“Sometimes I don’t know how she can stand to be around me”

“Or how I can look her in the eye”

“Whether or not you can look her in the eye is on you, but as for the other bit, I know what I saw”

“I’ve only seen her show any kind of real emotion once, and it was after you died”

“It broke her, dude”

“She straight up told Twi to take over all this”

You tilt your head toward the silhouette of the castle proper

“Because she couldn’t take it anymore”

“I saw her cry, I saw her crack, and I’ll never forget it”

She stays quiet, still gazing out over a sleeping Canterlot

After a moment she continues, changing the subject slightly

“Do you know what unsettled me the most, Anonymous, when I returned from my banishment?”

“Mmm?”

“That nearly everything was exactly the same, and that those few things that were different had changed for the better”

“Oh yeah, that sounds pretty disturbing,” you chuckle

You know she’s going somewhere, so you just help her get there

“Yes, it is a hideously selfish emotion, but the fact that the world had not just endured, but prospered in my absence confirmed the fear that had precipitated my exile in the first place”

You don’t speak, your heart sinking

Please, don’t say it

“This world doesn’t need me”

You open your mouth but your words die as she digs even deeper

“Even my supposed domain – my own house – seems to fare better apart from me”

“Its state two centuries ago versus the strange utopia I see now is quite literally the difference between night and day”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you spit, pushing away from her

You jab an accusatory finger at her muzzle, which is suddenly pointing straight at you

“None of this would’ve happened without what you did”

“This place was a sorry fucking affair before the Rebirth. I saw it with my own eyes, and Nova told me more than I ever would’ve figured out on my own. You saved them, Luna; don’t try to pretend like you didn’t”

“It would mean more to me, Anon,” she says evenly, arching an eyebrow, “if their damnation hadn’t been my doing in the first place”

“No,” you counter with a short, sharp shake of your head, “don’t try to pull that with me”

“Keeping your friends close isn’t a sin”

“You didn’t know what would happen, so you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it”

“Ah, I see,” she says bitterly, “apparently my guilt is erroneous”

“Thank you for applying logic to my feelings, Anonymous; I am now at peace”

“To use your favorite vocabulary word in a sentence: well fucking done”

“What I’m saying,” you insist, “is that even if your crazy-long view of time has decided that everything sums up to zero, that doesn’t mean anything to the people who are here now”

“Nova”

“Prism”

“Bender”

“Nebula”

“Yeah, technically it was your fault that they were freaks of nature, but if the noctae had never existed, then neither would they”

“Maybe you did wrong to ponykind as a whole, but to the people we see every day – to our friends – you are nothing short of a fucking messiah”

“You saved them, Moons; it’s literally written in stone out there”

You point in the general direction of the courtyard

“Forget what it means to you”

“Look at what it means to them”

“Look at how much they love you”

“Are their feelings erroneous too? Does their happiness just not mean anything because you made a mistake thousands of years before they were even born?”

She blinks and you can see her chest rise and fall several times with potential responses

Then her head snaps up at the sound of a rapping on the door within

“I’ll get it”

Unless there’s some cataclysm taking place that you aren’t aware of, there are really only two people

Er…ponies

You will never get used to that, no matter how many centuries you spend here

There are really only two ponies who would seek the princess’s attention at this time of night, one of whom politely slipped away from Celestia’s evening party earlier to continue overseeing the night-to-night operations of the catacombs, and is probably still engrossed in doing so

That leaves only the white, straw-blonde pegasus who stands before you when you open the door

“Hello, Anonymous,” she beams, green eyes gazing up at you with a ruddy cheer in her cheeks

She shares none of her sister’s reservations about partying on the job

“Watcha got for me, cutie?” you ask with a wink

“Just this,” she says casually, using her wing to toss you a rather hefty saddlebag

You don’t have to look inside to know what’s there, but you do anyway

A chilled bottle of strong, malty lager, as well as some freshly-baked bread and a piece of cheese

Basically, your standard bedtime snack

“Be still my fucking heart,” you say wistfully, placing a hand on your chest

“Tell me again why nopony’s married you yet?”

“Oh, you know,” she replies with a nonchalant examination of her own hoof, “I just haven’t found the right man yet”

“I mean stallion,” she corrects with perfect innocence

“Anyway, I came by to see if her grace required anything at the moment”

“Just some prozac,” you mutter

“Hmm?”

Now that her sister is the de facto showrunner of the catacombs, Nebula has assumed the post of Luna’s right-hoof mare

“Nah, I think we’re good”

“If she wants anything, I’m sure she’ll shouldertap you”

“She should do so now, because I plan on getting roaring drunk and then going to bed,” Nebula explains matter-of-factly

“Consider yourself dismissed until tomorrow night,” Luna says, projecting her voice into both your heads

“Thank you, your grace!” the pegasus calls toward the balcony

“Goodnight, Anonymous,” she adds

Her lips practically kiss the “M” when she pronounces your name, her eyes lingering on yours as she turns and trots off with an expertly-inflected bounce in her rear

It’s a joke that passed the point of no return years ago, yet you can’t help but reflect that in another, unattached life, you would totally hit that

You make your way back to the balcony and sit down next to the aforementioned princess

A small smile graces her features

Like Celestia’s, but without the serene propriety

It’s borderline-lewd

You take a gulp of the beer before offering it to her, and she accepts gratefully

“Were I a lesser being,” she comments, smacking her lips, “I’d be unsettled by your friendliness with certain members of my wait staff”

“Bitches love me, I can’t even help it,” you shrug

“Fortunately, I’m not a lesser being”

“If you’d like a menage a trois, Anon, I wouldn’t be opposed”

“I have a bit of a thing for blondes”

“Whoa whoa whoa, what the hell is this?”

“That’s what I thought,” Luna nods knowingly

She’s wise to your bullshit on a level that approaches the sublime

Then she sighs

“I’m sorry, Anonymous,” she says earnestly, the sudden lightness of mood putting the weight of your previous exchange into perspective

From the moment you met her, your conversations with Luna have been confessional and emotionally exploratory

Over the years, this balcony has evolved into a dissection table for both your hearts

“I’m sorry that I spend such an exhausting amount of time wallowing in my own uncertainty and – if we’re being honest – self-pity”

“Come on now”

“I am simply a bit confused at the moment as to what my place in this world should be”

“If I even have one”

You open your mouth, but she waves a hoof, silencing you

“Yes, I know”

“But a single act does not negate all that came before it, nor does it equate to a purpose”

“Things have worked out better for us – all of us – than I could’ve ever imagined, and I realize that I had a very instrumental hoof in all of it”

“But the shadow of my youth still follows me”

“Sometimes, I still feel as though I am the princess that this world never needed”

“That the best I can do is correct my own mistakes, and that my actions – as you so aptly put it – sum up to zero”

“But you misunderstand one thing”

“It’s not that the love and joy that surrounds me means nothing”

“Far from it”

“I do not question myself because I feel worthless”

“Rather, I do so because I feel compelled to live up to the image you hold in your hearts”

“For the first time in my life, I struggle not with the question of how to gain admiration, but how I might continue to deserve that which I already have”

“You say I saved the noctae”

“You say I saved you, dear heart”

“You say I lifted your curse”

“I hope you know that you are doing the same for me”

“It’s just taking a little longer”

“Nothing wrong with that”

“You said it yourself,” you smile, stroking the wing that reaches toward you

“We have forever”

“In a cosmic sense, yes,” she yawns, eyeing first the moon and then the clock on the wall inside

“But in terms of tonight, I’d say we have about an hour”

“Or at least I do”

“If you require carnal satisfaction, I suggest we commence immediately, as I’m about to be very sleepy”

“As much as I’d love some sloppy, drunken sex right now,” you reflect, “I’ve got something to take care of before I can ditch the waking world”

“I figured as much,” she nods, blinking blearily

“Her young highness looked more than a bit distressed this evening”

“Heavens know there’s something wrong when she agrees to a dance”

She stands up, trotting inside and opening the wooden cabinet where she keeps her stronger concoctions, retrieving a bottle that you know contains what she affectionately calls “poppy wine”

You’re pretty sure it’s just fucking laudanum

She used to use it as another “mood enhancer” for your nightly romps, but lately she’s been breaking it out before bedtime

You have no right to say anything, but you look away as she pulls on it

With a ruffle of her wings, she rises, forelegs draping over your shoulders

No matter what she’s been drinking, her kisses always taste like red wine and chocolate

“Go attend to your ‘little sister’”

“I will wait”

You know the catacombs like the back of your hand

Or the back of Luna

But they are vast

By the time you reach the ramparts, she’s already lowering the moon

But the sun has not risen yet

T-Rock “The Magic Shock” Super-Alicorn Sparkle is already there, and regards you with an irritation that says she has been for a while

“I skipped narcotics and sexy times with a night goddess to come and listen to you complain,” you glower, “don’t make that stupid-ass face at me or I will slap your shit”

She frowns even harder

“If you don’t want to talk to me, just leave,” she snarls, voice slightly ragged

“At least I can respect brutal honesty”

“Please, just…”

She squeezes her eyes shut, rubbing her temples, and you can see the barest glimmer of wetness at their corners

“Just don’t lie to me about how you feel”

The foggy happiness that has ensconced your consciousness this entire evening evaporates as your heart drops fast enough to punch through your stomach

You get to her as fast as you can without it being alarming, sitting down next to her to share the view

Canterlot still slumbers

Only the earliest risers trot briskly through the streets, pinpricks that move like ponies

A dizzying distance below that, a fog is creeping over the rolling hills between the city and Ponyville

Vertigo takes hold for a moment, and you feel as though you sit in the crow’s nest of a sinking ship, gazing at the water that rises to swallow you

But your worrying heart beats the sensation out of your mind

You place a hand on her back, and you can feel her thrumming and shivering with the tautness of a hypertensive artery

“T, what the hell is wrong? Talk to me”

“I get it,” she exhales sharply, her head bowing slightly

“This is all my fault, because I never say anything”

She pauses

Then her eyes go wide

“I never say anything, do I?”

Near-catatonia does not at all suit Twilight, and you feel your nerves wake up

“Am I like that too?” she wonders on a breath

Her vision searches the stars, and fear creeps across her features

“Twi, you’re losing me, man”

She turns quickly and grips your shoulders, gaze locking with yours

Her stare looks a thousand yards into the distance, but it sees everything in between

Especially you

“How can I blame her when I’m just like she is?”

“Twi!”

You shake her

“Make some sense!”

She turns her head away and clops a hoof against her face a bit too forcefully, massaging her forehead in an attempt to cover up the fact that she pretty much just slapped herself

Twilight is a neurotic, cellophane bag full of spazz-chips, but this is a version of her you’ve only seen a few times

She’s at some kind of loss for what to say, and for the mare whose talent lies in knowing just what to do in interpersonal matters, you know that must be a terrifying feeling

She casts her eyes downward and slumps against you

Then her hoof hooks around and punches you in the chest

“I miss you, you stupid jerk,” she sniffles

“I’m right here, man”

“I never see you anymore”

“Bitch,” you snap, indignation rising, “that’s on you too”

“Every time I’ve tried to hit you up in the last few years, it’s always ‘oh I’m fine, I’m just really busy’”

“‘I’ll see you soon, I promise’”

“You ever think that I might miss you too?”

“I know,” she sighs

You can see her eyes darting about, searching for words

“Anon, I hope you never have to deal with the frustration of being the very thing that infuriates you most”

“You’re late on that – about two centuries late”

As the moon descends, you pull her close

You can point fingers – or hooves – all day, but the fact is, you’ve both neglected each other, and the thought takes your mood and bodyslams it into the rough stone upon which you sit

“Now look, can you just do what you do best and lay this out for me? I’m not even sure what’s got you all worked up”

She puts a hoof to her chest and inhales, then exhales as she points it toward the horizon

You can feel her relax a little

She’s quiet for a minute or two, and you can almost hear the thoughts being meticulously coalesced into a thesis

“Anon”

“What’s up?”

“Have you ever had one of those days where there’s something bothering you, and you just wanted everypony to leave you alone so you could…mull it over?”

“Like, to really put some thought into it and figure it out?”

“You know I have, T”

Of course she’s being rhetorical, but you feel like pointing out your shared history is one of the best things you can do at the moment

“Well,” she continues, “that’s what Celestia’s been going through…”

“Then I’d say you should give her some space”

“…for the past ten years”

“Oh”

“It was so good for so long,” she whispers

“It’s like she used to be two different people, and I mean that in the best way possible”

“There was the princess that everypony sees, just smiling and waving”

“But then there was the one that only I saw, who would tell me things”

“Feelings”

“Stories”

“Sweet nothings?”

Normally, this would be the point at which she’d roll her eyes and tell you to get fucked

But she just sniffles again and nods

“Then Luna came back – you both came back – and she went quiet”

“Now all I see is what everypony else sees: that little smile”

“All I hear is what everypony else hears: everything’s fine”

“I’m starting to hate it, and knowing that makes me sick”

“I’m so tired of smiles and lies”

“And now, I’ve started doing the same thing to you”

She shudders, and you have no words

Your relationship with Celestia has always been cordial, but never particularly close

And Twilight has always been very tight-lipped about their private life

No matter what time and immortality do to her body, she will always be the tiny little sperg that scraped you off unfamiliar ground so long ago

The representative of this world’s philosophy who extended a friendly hoof without hesitation

The goofy girl who would be friends with anyone, but thought romance was “yucky”

In the absence of any indication to the contrary, you just assumed that the youngest and oldest princesses were busy living their lives

Busy being together, like you and Luna

Evidently, this is not the case

These feelings have been festering for quite some time

“I don’t know what it is that’s bothering her, but I have my hypotheses”

“Whatever the truth may be, it’s something she doesn’t want to burden me with”

“So what do you think it is?”

She breathes deeply, letting out a heavy sigh

“They’ve never talked about it, Anon; that’s what I think it is”

“About what?”

“C’mon, you’re dealing with a stupid person, here”

Now her eyes roll, bringing with them a welcome bit of normalcy

“What does Luna say about Celestia?” she asks, as though you’re comparing answers on a difficult piece of math homework

“What does she tell you?”

“Mostly that she’s afraid to face her,” you reflect, thinking back over recent conversations

“Exactly”

“Anon, they’ve never talked about the Moonfall”

“I think they were so happy to see each other again that they just swept it under the rug for a while”

“If things had been normal, they would’ve worked it out, but then…”

Then the Lunar Rebirth robbed them of that chance, you realize

“What Luna did was noble and beautiful”

“But it pulled them apart for another two centuries”

“Before Nightmare Moon, they shared a connection – something that you and I might never understand”

“They were two parts of the same thing”

“Those thousand years tested it, but I think there was always hope”

“Do you remember what Celestia said after Luna destroyed herself?”

You do

“I felt her light leave this world”

The sorrowful declaration echoes in your mind like it was just spoken yesterday

“That connection finally broke,” Twilight laments

“It took me so long to really understand her grief, Anon, and when I did, it terrified me”

“It wasn’t just that she thought she’d finally, truly lost her sister”

“It was that they’d never said they were sorry”

“And now, it’s like it’s too far in the past, and nopony wants to bring it up”

“But it still hurts”

A golden glow begins to illuminate distant hills, and you know your time with her is limited

The sun rises with its keeper, and your comprehension dawns with the day

“T”

You pull her against your chest, tucking her head under your chin

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to fix this”

“I’ve wracked my brain, Anon, but I haven’t figured out how we could do that”

“It’s okay”

You think far, far back, to that night when you saw your dearest love shatter under the weight of a godly spell

“I’m not lying”

The night when you finally came to understand the notion of sacrifice

“Everything’s going to be okay”

And you tell her what Luna told you just before the moment of her sundering

The words that carried you through this world for two centuries

“Don’t be afraid”

“But I am afraid,” she admits

“Fine”

“If you’re going to be afraid, then you’ve got to tell me”

“I’ll help you with it, okay?”

“Okay,” the young princess assents, shivering in your grasp

You feel a profound disappointment in yourself

You’ve been so wrapped up in your own story that you’ve forgotten hers

The centuries have taken so much more from her than you

Her friends

Her family

You forget sometimes that not everyone stood within the radius of light that made you immortal

You never knew her folks as well as you should have, but they died long ago

Neither did you know very well her brother, whose widow now solemnly presides over the empire to north

Almost everyone you’ve cared about in this world is still alive

The same is not true for her

“Anon?”

“What’s up, kid?”

“Can I ask you a question you won’t like?”

“Yeah, go ahead”

“I deserve it”

“I don’t want to make you feel bad or have a fight, but I don’t want to be like they are either”

“I don’t want to just pretend the bad stuff never happened”

“Come on, T, what is it?”

“Why did you leave me?”

It’s a vague question, and an outside observer might get the wrong idea from it, but you know exactly what she’s talking about

You didn’t think you could feel any fucking sorrier right now, but you were wrong

Your heart is somewhere in your left leg at this point

“C’mon, man,” you sigh

The words aren’t really for her

They’re for you, but she doesn’t know that

“Never mind,” she spits out hastily

“No…I didn’t mean it like that”

“If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it now”

Taking your words over their tone, she presses on

“You just disappeared”

“I came home one day, and you weren’t there”

“Spike said you went for a walk”

“I waited a day, and then a week, and then a year”

“And then ten”

“I thought you were dead”

“We all did”

“I know”

You pause for a long time, and her face takes on a cast that says “is that it?”

“Look, T, I have this problem sometimes where I don’t think I’m important enough to hurt people, you know?”

“Well, you’re wrong”

“I know, I’m slowly figuring that out, and only because I’ve had so much time to”

“But what’s the point of ‘why?’”

“I mean, if I come up with some amazingly good reason, are you suddenly going to feel better about it?”

“It would help”

“Well, su-fucking-prise, I’ve got nothing. Humans aren’t meant to live this long, dude, and I got so lost in my own head that I just needed to leave”

“I ran away, Twi, that’s it”

“I ran away from all the things that made me think too much and feel too much, and I just did stuff”

“I should tell you those stories sometime, because a lot of it was pretty jacked up, but that’s not the point here”

“It’s in the past, and if it’s not going to ruin things between us, why don’t we just accept that?”

“Not sweep it under the rug, not pretend it never happened, not forget about it, but let’s do this:”

“First off, I’m sorry I bailed on you”

“Okay,” she says, still sniffling

It’s an acknowledgement, but you can see that she’s hoping for more

Fortunately you’ve got more

“Second, rather than me trying to tell you all my convoluted, emotionally-fucked-up reasons for doing what I did, why don’t you tell me what I can do to make it up to you? Tell me what I can do to make it right, and I will”

“You could start by coming to see me more than once or twice a month”

“I was so happy when you came back, but sometimes it almost feels like you didn’t”

She shoves you gently for emphasis

“So are you actually going to let me?”

“Yes,” she nods solemnly

“Then I think you better keep your fridge stocked”

For the first time in what you realize has been quite a long time, you see her smile

Not that boring, “hey, how have you been?” smile that acquaintances give each other

It’s the smile that belongs to Twilight Sparkle – your best friend – when you make her happy

The sun finally escapes the horizon’s hold, bathing her in its light, and you can see the remnants of tear stains matting her cheeks

But rather than melancholy, they look beautiful against the warmth that now graces her features

Like morning dew that will soon be burned away by the day

Celestia’s watchful eye chases off the last of the night, and you know this conversation and your time in the waking world have both drawn to a close

“I should get going,” the alicorn says, withdrawing from your embrace and stretching her wings

“I barely slept and it’s going to be a long day”

“We’ll hang out tonight,” you promise

“I’ve got a lot of letters to answer, Anon, but if I get them done fast enough, maybe we can grab dinner somewhere…”

“How about I just bring dinner over and help you write ‘em? Luna might want to come too”

“That sounds nice”

There’s that smile again

You need more of that in your life

“Alright,” you say, bobbing your head slowly

“I should probably go to bed, too”

She assents silently, giving you one last, quick squeeze and then takes flight, rising over the wall and then disappearing

You hop up and lean over the edge, watching her descend in a rapid spiral toward the great white tower of the castle proper which houses her chambers

Her form becomes smaller and smaller before vanishing into an open window

She’s gotten damn good with those wings

You head back toward the south archway – one of two gates that connect this fortress-like structure to the catacombs in the peak below

Its gate has long ago rusted away into nothing, leaving only a few scraps of weathered, ruddy iron at your feet

If there were any trees up here, they’d be indistinguishable from scraps of bark and branch littering the ground

A familiar coolness greets you as you step inside the tunnel beyond

Then you finally hear the sound that’s been bothering the edge of your consciousness for the last few minutes

Hoofsteps, quick and worried

Modern Equestria has many ways of carrying and transporting light – from electricity to magic to fireflies – but torches are customary in Luna’s house, and you see one jogging towards you with purpose

“Anon!”

The flame dances across a blonde mane and green eyes

“Hey cutie booty,” you grin, suddenly very affected by the alcohol in your system

“Anon, something’s going on”

Nebula stops in front of you

The torch is clutched nervously in her right wing, and her expression shares none of your good humor

“I’m not sure you can help,” she admits, “but I think you’d better come”

You hold the suggestive joke

Something is wrong, and you can feel it

You sorely wish Twilight had lingered for just a few moments longer

Fear touches your heart as you silently follow her, but you push it away with violent rejection

Don’t be afraid

The tunnel widens, and you step into one of the chambers adjacent to the great hall

The one where Light Bender and his friends practiced earlier this evening

Many caverns converge here, and to your left is the one that links this place to the palace

Where the band stood when first you saw them sits a mare

An earth pony – those are rare up here – and she shivers, sweat dripping down her brow

You move towards her, but Nebula halts you

“Anon, don’t worry about her right now, come with me”

“Dude, she looks like she’s about to have a heart attack”

Evidently the mare hears you, her breath quickening as she clutches her chest

“I told you,” the former nocturne hisses in near-panic, “something bad is happening”

She herself looks like she’s about to suffer a nervous breakdown, and her hushed fright stirs anxiety in your own chest

You can’t tell if she’s the one freaking you out or if it’s coming from somewhere else

“Just follow me,” she whispers

It’s as though subconsciously, she fears somebody will hear her

You feel torn between trusting a friend and trying to help this distraught pony in front of you, but the silence tips you in favor of the former

There is no noise coming from the courtyard

No voices

No music

Something is definitely up, and you follow Nebula as she leads you through what is normally a bustling town square

Her torch is no longer necessary

This place is open to the sky, and the sun streams in as dawn transitions into day

But she still grasps it, as though her sanity depends upon it

You realize she’s taking you to your own room

Normally, a guard sits at the entrance to Luna’s chambers during the daylight hours

To his credit, he is there, but he doesn’t look to be in a position to guard anything at the moment

He’s curled up in the corner where the cavernous wall meets the great oaken door, covering his face and trembling

You’re not supposed to be afraid

But with each passing moment and each strange sight, you’re losing ground

You enter the room, and you hear something that makes you take another mental step back

A savage, frightened screaming

Before it can send you into blind terror, it dies with a whimper

A miserable, tired whimper

In a flash there are eyes on you – a sunburst of green, yellow, and blue – and they beg for your help

The ringing in your ears is not just because you’re drunk

This is something new, but also entirely familiar

Whatever good things or bad things can be said about the man named Anon, there is one thing about him which is definitely true

When he was young and foolish, he bent his mind

Before he met the princess who would give him a reason to remain vested in this mortal plane, he was reckless

He spent one too many nights and mornings holding his chest and gasping for breath as the intoxicants ran their course

He knew the particular kind of suffocating fright that existential panic brings with it

Age and change have tempered your mind, but you still remember the petrifying feeling of being on way too much acid and knowing you’re having a bad trip

That feeling is very similar to what you see before you

Prism and Nova are trying to hold Easel down on the bed

The bed you were planning on sleeping in

Luna watches in almost catatonic silence

Prism’s eyes break from yours and dart back to the unicorn as she thrashes

The screams once again die with a whimper

“Luna!” you cry as the mad struggle continues before you

“What the fuck is going on?!”

The night princess swallows, looking at you with a sense of loss

Her mane is separated into twitching tendrils, something you haven’t seen in several lifetimes

Her pupils are pinpricks, and you realize her mind is in no condition for something like this

“Anon,” her voice rings too loud in your head, “I’m…I don’t understand, they just brought her here…”

Her words are slurred

Your heart is hammering in your chest as it slowly dawns on you that not only does she have absolutely no idea what’s going on, she’s way too fucked up to even attempt to deal with it

You sure know that feel

It gives you an idea

You dash to the cabinet and withdraw a bottle of “poppy wine”, pulling the cork

“Prizz, can you get her to drink some of this? Just a little?”

The pegasus nods hastily, taking the bottle from you

She doesn’t even ask what’s in it, and in a less fucked up situation, you might marvel at such implicit trust and wonder what you did to deserve it

“Easy?” she prompts gently, nearly inaudible above the moaning and ragged breathing, “this will make you feel better, I promise”

Easel doesn’t even hear her, and she continues struggling and crying

Nobody here is in their right mind, but you realize that out of all present – and when you say present, you mean physically and mentally, which excludes Luna – you’re the only one with a shot at coping

The responsibility is like a lead yoke around your neck

You are not someone whom anyone should be depending on

You lean over the bed and the pony on it, and grab her head in your hands, turning her gaze onto yours

You didn’t pay much attention to her eyes before, but they’re an almost metallic yellow

Like gold

If they weren’t currently wild and bloodshot with rivers of shed tears matting everything around them, they’d be very beautiful

“Easy”

You speak just loud enough to assert yourself in her consciousness, and the minute ocular shifts tell you that she’s looking over your face – she’s seeing you, and that’s a start

“Don’t talk, just nod, okay?”

She nods

“Do you remember me?”

More nodding

“Alright, then you know I’m good friends with somepony who loves you”

Again

You look up at Nova

“Go get a wet towel”

You look back down at the panicking pony

“You’re really scared right now, aren’t you?”

Vigorous nodding

Her back arches, and you gently push on her chest, easing her down

“Well, I’m not scared at all right now,” you lie

“You wanna be like me?”

Her head doesn’t move, her eyes just beseech you

“All you have to do is take two sips of this,” you explain, offering her the bottle

“Exactly two, no more, no less”

It doesn’t fucking matter how much she drinks, but experience has taught you that people who are on the edge of losing their minds actually appreciate arbitrary rules and directives

They need something simple and immediate for their thoughts to coalesce around

She grasps the drink in her trembling hooves, not even attempting to use magic

She takes one sip and then pulls the bottle away from her lips

You can see a thought process beginning to form

That was one, this will be two

She takes a second sip, and then gives it back to you

“Good, now lie back down – on your side, not your stomach”

That part’s not arbitrary

Lying face-down means feeling your heart beat, and you know that is the absolute fastest way to exacerbate a panic attack

She shakily rests her head on the bed and then rolls to face you

“Okay, now,” you say, kneeling down next to Prism so you’re all at eye-level

Nova returns with a damp rag, and you press it against Easel’s forehead

“First of all, hold that there, it’ll make you better faster”

“Second, you’re not dying, you’re just really scared, and you’re not going to feel that way forever”

She’s gritting her teeth and crushing the towel against her brow hard enough to make her foreleg quiver with muscle tension

“Hey, ease up on that,” you tell her, pulling the hoof away and casting a meaningful glance at Prism, who climbs into the bed with Easy, taking over the task for her

Her breaths are still gasps, but they’re slightly less labored now

“I think you can talk now”

“So, what’s your favorite song?”

She almost nods again, but then catches herself

“Octaves,” she rasps, swallowing fitfully against her parched throat, “by Vinyl Scratch”

Nova gets up again and trots to the bathroom where you hear a glass being filled with water

“I’m impressed,” you reply, trying to affect nonchalance

Her fright and all this other strangeness has shaken you, but you realize that in her current state, she probably thinks you’re the coolest guy in the world right now, and that’s all that matters

“You know the classics”

“That song’s about two-hundred years old”

“Did you know I met Vinyl once?”

You offer her the water that Nova has brought

She gratefully accepts, and Prism helps her sit up a bit to take a drink

When her head once again rests against the sheets, she looks at you curiously

“You did? What was she like?”

“She was high as fuck. Sober people don’t wear neon-colored shades indoors”

This actually gets you an unsteady but genuine chuckle, and you realize – to your surprise – that you’re actually doing it right

Her eyelids flutter, the combination of distraction and narcotics turning her anxiety to exhaustion in an abrupt one-eighty

“Anyways, you can sleep in my bed tonight”

You tell her what your parents used to tell you when you came crying to them after a nightmare

“Prism’s gonna sleep here with you, too, and Nebula’s going to stay here until you fall asleep”

The first part was a given, and when you look over at the white mare who’s been hovering fretfully by the door this whole time, you know the second part is correct too

The jaws of tension slowly release, and you feel your own heart slow

Whatever caused the fear that pervades the catacombs dissipates just as suddenly as it assailed them, and you can almost hear the collective sigh of relief

Easy is out like a light, Prism cradling her head

The pegasus looks at you gratefully, but either can’t or doesn’t want to find words

She looks tired and haggard, her features creased with concern

She’ll be asleep soon, too

When you look at Nova, her gaze is distant

She’s already trying to figure out what happened, and she’s drawing a blank

You walk around the bed to where she sits next to Luna, who still stares catatonically at the now sleeping unicorn, swaying slightly

“What are you thinking?” you ask, trying to resist the booze-aided pull of sleep

You may be good at un-flipping wigs, but jockeying the clusterfuck that is no doubt about to take place rests squarely in her department

As stealthily as you can, you put a hand on Luna’s shoulder to steady her

“Prism,” she prompts, “are you two going to be alright?”

The younger mare nods

“Sister,” she says to Nebula, who stands at attention, “she can handle this – go check on everypony”

“I will be with you shortly”

“Okay”

The white mare gathers herself, casting a final anxious glance at the mirthless gathering, then hurries away

“Anon”

She turns to you, her eyes momentarily darting icily toward Luna

“Yo”

“See that her grace gets some sleep”

“After that, if it’s not too much to ask, would you go see her majesty and Princess Twilight? I think they both might want to know about this”

“Yeah, man, but what do I even tell them? I have no idea what the fuck just happened”

“Neither do I, and I think that’s why you should go see them”

“You’re the boss, bathorse”

Luna is leaning against you in full now, eyes half-lidded and unfocused

A shiny trickle of drool is slowly staining the leg of your pants

You look at the bottle of laudanum that’s still clutched fretfully in your hand

It’s nearly full apart from the small depletion required to calm Easel’s nerves

You look toward the still-open cabinet you procured it from, and realize that this is not the same one you saw her drinking from just an hour ago

That bottle was finished

“Anonymous?”

“Nova?”

Your princess’s words are slow and labored, barely a whisper

“What’s…happening?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, your grace,” Nova replies, “just get some sleep and I’ll tell you when you wake up”

“Very well,” Luna murmurs, lingering between this world and that of dreams, “but…let me know if you need something…”

“Of course, your grace”

The mossy-haired pegasus sighs and then looks up at you

“Anon, I know my hooves are by no means clean when it comes to indulging her”

Either she doesn’t care if the princess hears, or she’s confident that she can’t

“But this is getting out of hoof”

Her face hardens and the corners of her mouth turn down, her next words nothing short of an order

“Do something”

“Anonymous?”

You carry Luna down one of the many tunnels that branch off of the main hall

To a place you haven’t been for a very long time

“I’m afraid I’ve done something terribly wrong, and I don’t know what it is”

Her words are mere breaths, and her head lolls about as she rests limply in your arms

Only one of her silver eyes is even half-open, and it’s so glassy that if you couldn’t feel her warmth and hear her voice, you’d take her for dead

“Nah, it’s okay, you just need some sleep”

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I brought the world to ruin? Not as Nightmare Moon, but with my best intentions?”

She’s completely delirious

“Shh…it’s beddy-bye time for moon princesses,” you say, pushing open the door to the guest chamber that you yourself awoke in on your first visit to this place

But for the pristine cleanliness and lack of dust, you could almost believe that it hasn’t been touched in two-hundred years

“I’m the leftover,” she says in a sing-song whisper as you lay her down on the bed like a jeweler might set a precious stone, “I’m the blank list”

The words make you pause, but you’ve got things to do

You kiss her on the forehead, then the cheek, and then the nose

“I’ll be back soon, I’ve gotta go…fuck, I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do, but I’m pretty sure I gotta do it”

You draw away, but her hooves grasp at you frantically

“No, no, please…”

She tries to look at you, lids fluttering

“Stay”

“I’ll do…”

Her eyes are already half-lidded, so when they roll back into her head, you can only see the whites

A grin spreads across her muzzle and her legs attempt to wrap around your waist

“Everything”

“No way,” you push her off and rest her head on the pillow again

“You need to go to bed now. Nonsexually”

“Please,” she begs, so tired and bent that the murmur is now in your head and her lips just move in echo

“I’m scared”

“Moons, you’re just fucked out of your mind,” you reassure, running your fingers through her agitated mane, “everything will be fine if you just go to sleep”

“No it won’t,” she whimpers

“It will be exactly the same, but I’ll be alone”

“Not for long”

As you jog through the meandering tunnel fast as your exhausted legs can carry you, you feel a bit like Twilight

Because you’re thinking very intently about a book – a book that sits in the drawer of a small nightstand on your side of the bed that Easel and Prism now rest in

It’s filled with everything from philosophical musings to poetry to the crazed ramblings of a madmare, and it contains secrets that few in this world know

Secrets that can only be discovered by one who holds the key – a key held by a sliver chain that has not left your neck for two centuries

If one were to open it to a particular entry dated exactly one year before Moonfall, he would see what your mind’s eye sees

Two pages, each occupied by a list

Well, only one of them is really a list

Sister’s Virtues:

Benevolence

Morality

Altruism

Devotion

Humour

Love

One side reads like a list of synonyms for the six pillars of Equestrian society

Unless those names you know so well are themselves synonyms for the words scrawled on this page

My Virtues:

There are many scribbles and idle blotches of ink here, below which are written finally six words:

I am what was left over

You hear a squeal, and you realize it’s the hinges of the ancient door that you opened without thinking

You’re nearly blinded by sunlight reflecting off the alabaster austerity that you’ve suddenly stepped into, but you squint and keep moving

You pass guards and servants, all of whom pay you a respect that you’re still not sure you deserve

The brightness threatens to give you a migraine, and you reflect that you’re in the midst of that rarely-experienced phenomenon you refer to as a “same-day hangover”

When you drink enough to knock yourself out, but somehow manage to stay awake, and you actually get to experience your body transitioning from intoxication to agony, instead of just waking up to it

Finally, after climbing way more stairs than your heart can handle right now, your reach the pristine archway you were looking for, and you reach out to knock

Your knuckles meet air as it opens just in time to avoid their rapping

One day, you resolve, you’re going to knock on that door

You’re going to knock the shit out that motherfucker

“Language, Anon,” the daybringer says idly

She speaks as softly as always, but her voice cuts through the ambient noise of the day like a hot knife through butter, and into your ears as though she stood next to you

You don’t usually come here, but when you do, you’re unsettled by the physical and chromatic mirror image of Luna’s room

Your room

Here, the bed stands against the left wall, the bookcase against the right, and all is cast in gold and white instead of silver and gray

She sits at the edge of the balcony beyond

You search for a comforting shade of purple, but do not find it

“Twilight is busy,” she explains

“Very busy”

“Listen, Sunny”

You struggle against your increasingly-uncooperative lips, and you decide to bypass vocalization

Some fucked up shit just happened upstairs

You think it as you walk toward her, and she slowly swivels her long neck until your gazes meet

“No, Anon”

Um, yeah, actually

“I mean no,” she clarifies, “that phenomenon was not confined to the catacombs”

“I am quite certain that all of Equestria – and all of the world – was taken by a wave of terror and madness,” she declares solemnly

How do you know that?

“Just look,” she replies serenely, her sight returning to a view of the landscape that is slightly different than the last time you were here

The mountain has been shifting

Below, the streets of Canterlot are nearly empty

The few tiny shapes that wander about do so in a daze

But you barely notice, because outside the cityscape – upon the rolling green that stretches to Ponyville and beyond – walk tall, lumbering shapes that seem as moving mountains

Mountains with legs and bodies and hands

Their steps echo thunderously across the hills

“What’s happening?” you wonder aloud, fear and awe shaping your words correctly

“I do not know, Anon,” she admits, “and that terrifies me”

“But I do know two things:”

“That these strange events – the dying crops, the moving of stone, and now…this – are no coincidence”

The thundering footsteps that fill your ears are joined by a resonant rumble as the rocky spire upon which you stand once again turns

“And that whatever is about to transpire”

“May very well be the event by which the history books one day separate the epochs of this world”