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”
Part Two - Sunshine in My Dreams
“What are they?”
Your voice is breathy and hushed with wonder
These creatures that now swarm the familiar landscape before you are like nothing you’ve ever seen
Many of them are small, and they skitter about, looking like ants in the distance
But some are tall and vast, moving slowly and shaking the earth as they do so
“Elementals,” Celestia explains, eyes not leaving them
“They were some of my mother’s earliest creations – her first attempts”
“Before she figured out how to create flesh, she tried animating what was already in reach – dirt, stone, water…”
“They have little intelligence to speak of”
“For the most part, they hide, and until now I was never sure if they were truly what we might call ‘alive’”
“So they’re what’s causing all this crazy bullshit?”
The sun goddess never tries to make you feel stupid, she just does it unintentionally by knowing everything
“Oh no, Anon,” she shakes her head
“As I said, until this moment I wasn’t entirely sure if they were sentient, but I am now”
“Because the terror that stirred us has awakened them as well”
“They’re afraid”
When you look again at the lumbering bodies of stone, you realize that they follow no path to speak of
They aren’t rising to attack the world
They just mill about in confusion
She’s right; they’re just as terrified as you are
“So what do we do?”
If anyone in the multiverse knows what to do it’s her
“What can we do?” she wonders calmly
“Until this threat reveals itself for what it truly is – and I am quite certain we have not seen its final form – we cannot act with any sort of conviction”
You can’t argue with that
“Okay, then onto some slightly more pressing shit”
“That giant, honking rock guy over there is about to stomp through Ponyville”
It’s been years since you’ve walked around that town
Twilight was once beholden to the place, but no longer, and as she drifted away from it, so did you
Now it’s just a distant shape on the horizon presided over by a large – some would say awkward – crystalline palace in which she only occasionally lives
But it was once your home – even if hardly anypony who lives there now would even recognize you – and your heart still sinks into your stomach when you see it about to be trampled by a massive, unthinking creature
“I do see that, Anon, however I have no cause for concern”
“Alright”
“Then you and I are very different”
Even if you could get there in time – which you can’t – you’d be powerless to stop that giant, shambling thing from trampling your “hometown,” so you just watch as its rocky feet draw closer and closer to crushing the quaint, thatched shacks that populate your former hood
Something catches the corner of your eye, and even from here you swear you can feel pressure on your ears
It’s the quiet sound a 747 would make if it was powered by purpose instead of jet engines
An airborne shape hails from the mountains to the northwest
A smile slowly chases away your stricken expression as the enormous, winged creature dives toward the earth with reckless abandon
Just a moment before the titanic stone elemental’s foot crushes one of the first houses on Ponyville’s outskirts, a massive, scaly arm shoves it back
Two clawed feet hit the ground with an earth-moving impact as the dragon throws his immense self between the rock creature and the unsuspecting town
The stone titan is great – were it to stand next to Canterlot Mountain, its head might reach the city – and already agitated
It lashes out in fear and confusion, and you can almost feel bad for it
Spike is a bit small – by comparison only, of course – but he’s fast
And more importantly, he’s defending his friends
He catches the rocky fist in his own, wings beating against the air for support as he absorbs the impact and then musters the momentum to thrust it away
The elemental barely has time to stumble back before it’s torched by a massive blast of green fire
It would take far more to actually destroy a creature of such magnitude, but that isn’t the intention here, and when the flame abates, you can see parts of it glowing with heat
With the weight of a tectonic plate, the elemental staggers and then flees, chased away by a thundering bellow that says “fuck off” in no uncertain terms
“I guess you knew that was going to happen, huh?”
“Yes”
“I trust my friends, Anon, and I trust them completely”
“I don’t think you understand what trust is, Sunny”
She still gazes into the distance, but you can feel her full attention on you now
“How do you mean?”
“It’s only trust if you count on someone without being sure what they’re going to do”
She’s silent for a long time
“Anon?”
“Yo”
“When my sister awakens, I need to see her. This is not a dinner invitation that she can ignore or a teatime she can put off for next week; it is imperative that we meet immediately. Would you please tell her this?”
“You can count on me”
“I know”
“And in fact – were I anypony else – I would say that I trusted you”
“Astra”
“I’ve found you”
In a flash of panic, you awaken, upright and dizzy before you’re even fully aware of your body
You hear short, sharp breaths next to you
You woke up because Luna did
It’s only been six hours since you climbed into this bed next to her, and you’ve both been torn away from your dreamfield prematurely
The sun is still up, but you could swear that the light of a double full moon still stains your retinas
And a strange voice lingers in your ears, laced with anger and malice
She looks at you, eyes wild and unfocused
A capillary has burst in the left one, tinging it red
Her ethereal mane is unkempt, flowing in many tendrils
She has that lamentable look of someone who’s had way too much to drink and not nearly enough sleep
“Holy shit, calm the fuck down sweetheart,” you say, placing your hands on her shoulders
“You look like you’re about to blow a brain fuse”
Luna presides over the world’s dreams
She has the ability to walk in the mind of any creature upon this earth, so long as it slumbers
It’s ironic, then, that she herself never actually sleeps
Of course she must lay her body down to rest at regular intervals, but when her eyes close, she knows no oblivion
She just wakes up on the other side
Ever since she vested in you a part of her powers, you’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like
Sometimes, you fall asleep here, only to find yourself awakening in the dream world
But there are still interludes of nothingness
Not for her, though
At least not usually
“Anonymous,” she whispers raggedly, her bloodshot silver gaze meeting your own
“I had the most horrible hallucination”
This isn’t right
What last you remember, you were both sitting in your field of dreams and laughing together
Things were finally starting to feel almost normal again
The events of last night were becoming a distant memory, and you were once again reveling in your own private realm
There was none of this terror
“Moons…when? And more importantly, where?”
“Between,” she breathes, clutching at her chest as though she must hold her heart to keep it bursting through
You have to stop yourself from mirroring the gesture
Instead you rub your eyes and crack your neck, letting the mid-day sun warm you into consciousness
This room used to be completely enclosed, but now it has a window through which light streams
She doesn’t elaborate, and you embrace her, laying her down so that your heads share a pillow
“Talk to me”
“I was neither here nor there,” she murmurs, staring through you
“Luna,” you implore, shaking her, “I’ve seen enough freaky shit in the past twenty-four hours”
“Please make some sense”
She blinks and swallows hard
“It was like walking in a haze”
“I was…aware – to a certain degree – but I didn’t comprehend that it was just a dream”
“She was smothering me, and I was powerless”
“All of my strength and all of my magic amounted to naught”
“I couldn’t breathe”
“I’m really hoping this is just going to end up being a joke about your sister’s giant ass”
“Anonymous, be serious”
It’s not a reprimand
It’s a plea, half-panicked
“For the first time in my life, I was powerless over my sleeping thoughts”
“And I am so very afraid”
You can see the desperate need for sleep in her eyes, but she’s confused and shot full of adrenaline
Something in your mind is turning, and when it completes its revolution, you can practically feel the pins clinking inside your head
“Moons…you had a nightmare”
“A real one”
“That’s what it’s like for most people”
She stares at some distant point in space many miles beyond your face, chest still heaving, eyes like dinner plates cracked with redness
Her chin trembles slightly before she speaks
“I always knew that ponies sometimes forget their dreams after they wake”
“That they often don’t know that a dream is a dream”
“‘Am I dreaming?’”
“You’ve no idea how many times I’ve heard the question”
“But I never imagined it was like that, not in my wild–”
She trails off
“I’ve no right to say that,” she breathes, falling silent and blinking deliriously
“Moons”
You wrap your arms around her, and she’s rigid, her muscles showing no sign of unseizing as you kiss her neck
“Please don’t turn this into another reason to hate yourself”
She says nothing, still quivering with tension, like a steel spring in your embrace
“Luna, it’s okay, I’m here”
You can feel her heart punching you in the chest
“Do you want some water?”
She shakes her head
“Do you want some beer?”
She shakes it again
“Do you want a back rub?”
She nods
You sit up, gently rolling her onto her stomach and straddling her back
She’s a slight little thing, but your weight is a comfort rather than a burden
Even from a prone position, she could buck you through the ceiling if she wanted
And the ceiling is made of rock
You crack your knuckles
Ever tried to massage a wound-up alicorn?
It’s harder than it sounds
You begin kneading the back of her neck, and similar to last night, it’s like trying to massage metal with skin stretched over it
Your thumbs already ache, and you know you can’t do anything here
It’s all about finding that key spot where your puny mortal strength can actually do some damage, and working from there
Just below the base of her neck, your fingers are greeted with a consistency that feels slightly more like flesh
With a small, painful “ah” she releases the breath that she probably didn’t know she was holding
You try moving out to her shoulders, but they’re harder than diamonds
You could grind at them until your fingers broke
So you keep moving down, pressing against each vertebra, but nothing’s giving
Until you reach the one right between her wings
Aha
You press down with your palms, but your bodyweight isn’t enough
So you switch tactics, coaxing her wings into opening and then grabbing the base of each one, swiveling them in opposite directions and pulling on them
Usually that makes her horny, but you’ll take anything you can get right now
As you continue to turn her feathery appendages in gentle circles, you shift so that one knee is braced between them, pressing down on that one part of her spine that isn’t completely locked up
The rise and fall of her breath is slowing down here and there with tiny groans, and you tighten your grip
Then you yank like you’re trying to rip the arms off a twacked-out grizzly bear, and the resulting pop is like a gunshot in the quiet room as you feel something give beneath your kneecap
“Mmpf”
There we go
The keystone has been pulled, now it’s just a matter of doing the work
You move up a notch, cracking it with a double-handed push and then kneading outwards, feeling the stone-like consistency rapidly melt into that of putty
She moans indecently when you reach her neck, and you can feel her whole body relaxing now
You massage back and forth between the base of her skull and her wing joints for minutes on end, until your arms begin to feel like jello
You take one final walk down her back, past her wings and onward to her rear
A short, sharp thrust of your weight right above her tail causes a final spinal decompression which almost sounds like a “thunk”
“Ummf…”
One of her legs kicks involuntarily, but a couple broken ribs a few years ago taught you to stay far out of the way
You squeeze her ass for good measure – eliciting a contented sigh – and then flop back down on the mattress, slightly winded
Her eyes are half lidded, one being almost closed
You try to kiss her, but her tongue is hanging out, so you opt for the cheek instead
Her ears twitch, and her wings slowly fold back up as she smacks her lips
“Better?”
She gives you a sleepy but adoring smile
“If anything ever happens to me, dear heart,” she comments lazily, “you could make your living as an alicorn masseur…or chiropractor”
“Ehh…I only know three other alicorns, and I’d feel really weird about doing that to any of them”
“Good point,” she yawns, turning to wrap around you in a four-limbed hug and bury her face in your neck
You can feel her wetness grinding against your leg with a gentle, sleepy lack of urgency
She pecks at your collarbone, and the only reason you aren’t ramming her into the headboard right now is because of your lack of sleep and the anxiousness that recent events have instilled in you
You have a question, but you’re afraid to ask it for fear it might rile her up again
“Moons”
“Mmm?”
“You said ‘she’ was smothering you – in the nightmare, I mean”
“Did you mean…”
“No, Anonymous,” she says, head rising to look at you in a moment of semi-lucidity
“I could never imagine that, in this realm or that of sleep”
“Then…was it the Tantabus?”
She shakes her head slowly, and she climbs halfway on top of you so that you’re chest to chest and nose to nose, her forehooves draped over your shoulders
Her silver eyes blink, searching for words
“I created the Tantabus myself, and I knew it very well”
“It was a facsimile”
“It was what I thought a nightmare was supposed to be, and little more than a concentrated version of the same self-flagellation I used to engage in during my waking hours”
“This dream…I’ve only experienced one other thing like it”
The sun from the open window is harassing both of you at an uncomfortable angle, and her horn sparks, sealing the opening with a smoke-like black cloud that you haven’t seen in a very long time
The room doesn’t go entirely dark, as she keeps her aura pulsing ever-so-slightly, illuminating just your faces and the silver streaks in her mane
“Yeah?” you prompt, your eyes relaxing but not wavering from hers
“Madness”
“I spent one-thousand years as an incorporeal essence of rage and envy within the confines of the moon, silently wishing to scream every time I felt my sister’s touch move me to begin a new night”
“But how could I scream when I had no lungs to draw breath?”
“It was like suffocating”
You listen with rapt attention, drinking in the rare details
“Were it not for my mother’s shards taking pity upon me, my shattered mind might’ve been ground to dust”
“Regardless”
You feel a slight disappointment that that’s all you get
“I can’t say this feeling was identical, only unsettlingly similar”
She finishes with a yawn, as though speaking of a distant memory
You think for a moment, fingers tracing the feathers of one wing
You’re sure her nightmare is connected to the strange events of this morning, but you can’t bring yourself to say so
She hasn’t remembered anything yet, and you can’t bring yourself to inflict further anxiety on her until she’s gotten some sleep
Her head slowly comes to rest again, nestled into your chest
She’s got problems and the world’s got problems, but now is not the time to deal with them
Still, you gave Celestia your word
You must tell Luna to go to her
However, you reflect as sleep takes you and your princess once more
You don’t have to tell her here
Your eyes open to a gently rolling green
You wouldn’t even call them hills, more like knolls
Yeah, knolls motherfucker, you just casually used that word
Two hundred years of perusing Luna’s journal – often with a dictionary next to it – has expanded your vocabulary considerably
The field stretches out infinitely in all directions – or at least it appears to
You know that beyond the horizon are forests, mountains, and even great bodies of water, only as close or far away as you want them to be
When you were younger, you sought to explore every corner of it, but lately you’ve been staying put in this – your favorite spot in any world
Looking up, you see a sky of pristine clarity, salted with stars arranged into many simple constellations, many of them constructed subconsciously during decades upon decades of quiet reflection
But the sky is dominated by one celestial phenomenon, and every time you look at it, you feel like laughing
Yet it also conjures a wealth of emotions that stretch back over lengths of time that possibly no other human being in the multiverse has weathered
Two full moons
One resembles that which watches over Equestria each night, the other looks much like the one under which you lived most of your old life
The only thing from your homeworld you saw fit to conjure here
They’re so close that their edges touch, surrounded by an arrangement of stars that form a comically suggestive mural in the sky
Your princess sits next to you, and her eyes open without blinking even once
Her gaze turns up, as do the corners of her mouth
The joke is too old to get a full chuckle anymore, but she always smiles
It’s part humor, part flattery, and part memory
“It’s going to be time to redecorate soon,” she comments
“Nah, I like the feng shui we’ve got going here”
She rests her head on your shoulder
“Very well”
There’s a stretch of silence in which you debate whether or not to voice your concerns
Fuck it
You don’t get this far by hiding your feelings
“Luna?”
Your tone makes her raise her head and meet your eyes
“Do you remember what happened last night
“It’s hazy,” she admits, “but I know the gist”
“And I know I failed to do anything about it”
“Look, just promise me that when you wake up – I mean really wake up – you’ll go see her”
“I think it’s inevitable, Anonymous”
Silence overtakes this party of two, and you think of the promise you yourself made to Twilight
That together, you would fix them
So you do the one thing you know will at least get the gears turning, and ask your princess to explain her feelings
“Why are you so…”
You don’t want to say “afraid”
That won’t get you anywhere
“…reluctant to see her, Moons?”
“It’s gotta be more than her turning into a paper-pusher”
“And if her being disappointed that you never talk to her bothers you so much, then why wouldn’t you just talk to her more?”
She doesn’t say anything just yet, but a gentle breeze picks up, just enough to move the air about and bring with it the smell of a perpetual summer night
Her mane dances about, finding its way across your back and curling around you
“That makes me think of a story, Anonymous,” she says finally, and your heart skips a beat
“One that might answer those questions and others you’ve no doubt been entertaining lately”
You look at her with both excitement and apprehension
It’s been a while since the last story
“Would you like to have a dream?”
You’ve been with Luna for so long
Or at least it feels that way to a human
Yet you know so little of the past, but for the history books, and those rare details
And her “dreams”
“Yes”
Her silver gaze stares into yours, eyebrows knit slightly, accompanied by a wistful smile
A single tear rolls down one cheek, and she catches it, touching her hoof to your lips
It tingles when it touches your tongue, and you can only blink twice before the veil of this realm begins to peel back in a wash of silver light
“Then dream you shall”
Your body is no more – you are only a sight, blinded by an expanse of blank whiteness
You feel no hands or feet, only the tingling of her tear and the coolness of her starry mane wrapped around your soul
As in previous times, it’s the only thing that keeps you from feeling terror
“There was an era I sometimes speak of”
“When the world was still young and vast”
Her voice echoes in your mind as it often does in the waking world, but it has no direction, coming from all sides and infinitely more commanding
The blankness begins to resolve into colors, as though you’re emerging from a thick cloud, and suddenly you see it
“The sky was just beginning to turn blue, still stained with crimson from my mother’s dividing”
Beneath the mottled sky float clouds of many colors
Below your slowly moving field of perception is a green valley that stretches so far you can only just make out the hazy mountains at its other end
It is surrounded on all sides by jagged, rocky peaks that rise as high as Canterlot Mountain itself, but with none of its familiar gentleness
Through the valley flows a great river, fast and wide
Instinctively, you follow it to its origin, a waterfall that plummets from a cliff on the highest mountain
“Before Equestria, the whole earth was our home”
A figure stands atop the cliff, and as you draw closer, it is both familiar and not
Celestia’s youthful self is still tall and regal, but there are noticeable differences
The regalia you are accustomed to – including her crown – is absent
In its stead, a great golden plate covers her chest, rising into a collar that encircles the base of her long neck
Her mane is almost completely lacking its ethereal flow, as well as its color scheme – the light pink hair ripples more in the breeze than it does by magic
But the most striking difference is her face
True, it looks just the same in terms of features, but her jaw is hard set and her head held high, mouth turned down in contemplation
Her eyes narrow as they gaze into the distance
The sun above reflects off her unblinking eyes, and they gleam with steely brightness
She squints towards a hazy dark patch at the valley’s far end, her head tilting to one side
“And we sought to leave no corner of it unexplored”
Celestia cranes her neck around to look behind and calls out
“Luna”
She is joined shortly by a second figure, and could you feel your body right now, you’re sure your hand would slap itself over your mouth
While the sun princess looks more or less identical to her present-day self despite a few obvious differences, the same cannot be said for her sister
The younger alicorn is at least a full head shorter than she is now, as well as a full shade lighter
Her short-cropped, cornflower-blue mane is tied back in a utilitarian ponytail
Unlike her elder, she wears no armor, but instead a long, flowing black cloak, and a tunic of what appears to be leather with a thick, high collar which buckles tightly around her neck, adorned at its front by a blue gem that matches her hair
Underneath the billowing fabric, you catch glimpses of two small saddlebags
“Yes, sister?”
“I require sight,” Celestia explains
Or at least you assume it’s an explanation
You have no clue what the fuck she means
Luna thinks for a moment, then opens her left saddlebag with a teal aura and withdraws a small vial
The day mare takes a drink from it and gazes once again towards the dark patch in the distance
The younger sister tucks the vial back into her satchel with a clink that belies many others like it, and you think of the cabinet in your room stocked with so many unlabeled bottles and flasks
“What do you see?” she wonders
The eldest is silent for a moment, and when she speaks, she her tone is grave
“Nothing good, but it’s obscured by more than just distance”
“What do you see, sister?”
Luna closes her eyes, as though listening instead of looking, her cloak billowing just a bit more than the wind warrants
“The same,” she says finally, snapping them open
“This land looks peaceful, but it is sick in the soul. I do not wish to walk here, Tia – there is evil in this place”
“And that is why we must,” the white alicorn says simply
“Then I suggest,” Luna offers, extracting another vial from her bag and hoofing it over, “that we tread lightly”
“What’s this?” Celestia wonders
“A perfume of valerian and opium poppies,” the dark alicorn explains
Her voice has an odd echo to it, and you realize she’s speaking inside her sister’s head
You can only hear it due to your currently omniscient perspective
“Dab it about your neck”
“I cannot make you invisible in broad daylight, sister, but those who do look upon you might find they can’t quite remember what they saw”
“Very well,” Celestia says after doing as instructed, “now let’s tarry no longer”
She takes flight, the sun catching her armor in a flash, followed by a trail of black and purple smoke
You look back to watch Luna do the same, but she’s already gone, and you realize what the smoke is
“We were travelers – wandering for the sake of wandering, looking for a place and a purpose”
“And we had begun to find both, putting our adventurousness to good use by helping those who needed it when we came across them”
“The village we found twenty miles upriver feared this valley, for none who had attempted to settle here had ever returned. Many of their friends and loved ones had vanished in this place, sometimes in numbers”
“And so, young and intrepid as we were, we sought to find out why”
Celestia dives, her wings tucked in freefall mere feet away from the cliff face
They only open to catch her just before she breaches the treeline in a move that would no doubt be suicidal for any pegasus
As she slips through the canopy and glides the last few yards to the ground, you notice the sun on her flank
The moment her hooves touch the ground, so does the nebulous black fog, and Luna rematerializes next to her, the dark cloud swirling about her until it takes the form of her cloak
Before the enchanted fabric comes to rest over her body you note the crescent moon stamped on her own hindquarters
“Wait,” you wonder incredulously, “isn’t this way before Equestria?”
“Indeed”
“So that’s before you two started raising the sun and the moon, right?”
“Yes”
She says nothing further, willing your attention back toward her past self
The forest is deathly silent
No insects hum and no birds chirp
The only sound is that of the waterfall, distant and muted by the trees
You can see just how aware the two sisters are of the unnatural quiet
“I do not like this at all,” young Luna echoes, her mouth unmoving
Celestia doesn’t vocalize a response, instead sparking her horn with golden light
Two objects materialize out of thin air on either side of her
One is a helm that matches her body armor, and she magics it carefully over her head
There are four holes atop it – two for her ears, one through which she draws her mane, and another just above the brow
Below the latter is a curved steel blade with a ring right where its clip begins
Her horn fits through this fourth hole and then through the ring, anchoring the wicked knife to it
The second object is massive, and takes more time in its conjuring
A long shaft of gold-tinged steel burns into existence
At one end forms a heavy steel ball
At the other at the other, an axe head of unwieldy proportions
The enormous curved blade stretches nearly half the length of the weapon, almost touching the middle point of the handle at its end, and you know you’d be unable to lift the thing, much less wield it effectively
Young Luna regards the halberd with a single raised eyebrow as her sister holsters it in a large ring on the right side of her armor
“Are you so eager for a fight?”
“Preparation does not necessitate enthusiasm, Lu”
“True,” the dark alicorn reasons, “but certain kinds of preparation belie it”
She dons the hood of her cloak, and you note that it comes to rest against her head as though she had no horn
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Celestia wonders with narrowed eyes
Even under the hood, you can see Luna stick her tongue out
The eldest sister cracks a small smile, eyebrow arched in accompaniment to a rough, roguish prototype of the expression you’ve become so familiar with over the years
“Let’s not dally, sister…more than likely, we have work to do”
When they cease to speak, you’re once again reminded how quiet this place is
If it were some kind of wasteland, you could understand
But a forest this lush should not be so silent
The soft padding of their hooves against fallen leaves and the patches of grass which spring up in ever-more-frequent shafts of sunlight is unsettlingly loud, tempered only by the rushing of the river whose distance you cannot gauge
When at last the canopy breaks, the valley stretches out in equal silence, bathed in light save for that cloud-shrouded murkiness in the distance
The river – which you can now see is little more than a stone’s throw away – fills the valley with frothy echoes
You can see the sisters’ ears panning and twitching back and forth, searching for any other sound and finding nothing
Celestia dares not break the silence, but Luna mutters into her mind every so often, and she responds with almost imperceptible nods or shakes of her head
For a long time, they walk in silence, growing ever more wary with every step
The grass grows a little taller, interrupted by patches of trees here and there, and they fan out, walking a few yards away from each other
Ahead, atop a few gentle hillocks rises a tangle of greenery – a dense grove that obstructs the immediate view of their path, leaving only the surrounding mountains and that remote, impalpable darkness
But the only signs of life are the vultures that circle the sky, far above whatever fell magic might infect this place
Then Celestia’s head turns up sharply, and a fraction of a second later the stillness is split by a violent bellow
The sound of leaves and twigs being crushed by hooves rapidly intrudes on your aural periphery, but it does not sound like the gait of any equine
The crashing of branches and brambles joins it, and with another ragged howl, the source of the noise bursts through the thicket
If your disembodied dream consciousness had eyes, they would be as wide as Celestia’s as it charges right towards her
Though she is tall for a pony – which really isn’t saying much – this thing towers over her
It has the head of a bull and a torso that is a rough approximation of a man’s, with goat-like legs, and you recognize it as a minotaur, a creature whose likes you’ve seen a few of in your travels
And this one looks pissed off past the point of sanity
Luna – her tiny frame hardly visible in the tall grass – adopts a defensive stance
But Celestia does not raise her weapon
She simply steps out of the way, and the roaring creature barrels right past her
It runs maybe twenty more yards before stumbling and collapsing in the bushes, making no attempt to stand back up
You can see its back heaving with exhaustion
The sisters lock eyes
The youngest is utterly bewildered, but you can see the cogs turning in her older counterpart’s mind
Before they can exchange words, there is a muted flash of emerald light from within the brush, and the sound of more hooves, this time a familiar four-legged gallop
A pony trots into view, following the swath cut by the minotaur
Though the beige unicorn stallion is rugged and battle-worn, he’s still a relatively normal-looking pony
Yet they react with shock
“The land that would one day become Equestria was not even on this continent,” Luna narrates, as if – or maybe very deliberately – responding to your thoughts
“It was exceedingly rare for us to meet one like ourselves”
The pony’s eyes flit between them, but he doesn’t slow down, making a beeline toward the fallen beast
As if sensing his presence, the minotaur rights itself, standing and bellowing with all its might
The sound is halfway between the mindless screech of a beast and the desperate battle cry of a man making his last stand
When you take a closer look at the creature, he is a terrible sight to behold
Yes, he’s intimidating, but clearly not what he once was
You’ve seen enough of his kind to that they’re almost invariably large and muscular, but this one looks wasted
Above his sunken stomach, ribs poke at the hide underneath his filthy copper-colored fur
His coat is matted and his hair is long and tangled
A wicked scar dominates the left side of his face, running across a damaged, milky eye
The pony charges toward him without hesitation, withdrawing a rope from his pack with a viridescent magical glow
Tied at its one end is a painful-looking chunk of barbed iron that resembles a large fishing hook
He twirls it overhead in his aura before launching it toward the minotaur
The bull-headed animal weaves, but the throw is expert, and the rope lands on its left horn, swinging underneath its outstretched arm and looping around and around until a cry of pain signals that hook has imbedded itself in flesh
Arm now tethered awkwardly to its own head, it stumbles about helplessly
It only takes one tug on the part of the unicorn to bring it crashing to the ground once more, the gust of air from its lungs sending up a cloud of dirt, dust, and grass
You’re just getting ready to say “that’s that” when the minotaur rolls onto its back and – with a grisly squelch – rips the hook from its arm and staggers to its hooves once more
You don’t know where this guy came from, but wherever it was, he does not want to go back
He leaps at the pony, who only just evades being crushed by a hammer-like fist
The stallion retrieves another rope and hook from his pack, but before he can put it to use, the massive beast crashes into the grassy earth yet again, bound by a set of translucent, blue-green shackles around its wrists and ankles
Luna’s horn glows, freed of its concealing hood
The stranger says nothing, removing something else from his satchel
It’s a leather strap, which he hastily cinches around the minotaur’s mouth
It groans, closing its wet eyes and succumbing to exhaustion
“Bind him,” the night mare instructs
“I cannot hold this spell indefinitely”
Obviously prepared, the stallion produces shackles of a more tangible variety, cuffing the unconscious behemoth
Once finished, his bright, emerald eyes regard the alicorn sisters with guarded curiosity
His build and the numerous scars lurking under his coat suggest that he engages in this type of activity regularly, and indeed he doesn’t look at all shaken
Luna returns his inquisitive look, but Celestia is stony and silent, wearing the expression of someone who is trying and failing to pick a lock
“Thank you, travelers,” he says finally, his voice a bit higher than you expected
“It’s not often we have passers-through in this place,” he continues, “and even less often are they anything but a nuisance…or worse”
You recognize that he’s probably winded, but he talks like he doesn’t quite understand how to breathe through his nose
Still, dude just took on a raging minotaur without a second thought
He’s okay in your book
The vultures circle tightly overhead, and you realize they must have picked up on the minotaur’s blood
“What are you called?” the young Luna wonders
“I have a few names,” the unicorn smiles, sitting down to catch his breath
“I know this fellow” – he nods his head at his fallen opponent – “and his ‘friends’ have a few choice words they like to describe me with”
“But you can call me Warden,” he finishes with a dip of his head
“That sounds more like a title than a name,” the alicorn comments
“It’s both, at this point,” he admits
“What is this place?” Celestia interjects harshly, her inflection odd and strained with tension
She doesn’t look him in the eye, her head swiveling around as if searching for the missing piece of a puzzle
“I see you’re a bit confused…a bit on edge, but don’t worry,” Warden placates, “I’ll explain”
“This valley is deceptive”
“I wish it could be used for something happier than it is, but I have no control over that”
He taps his chin with a hoof, but you get the sense he already knows exactly what he’s going to say
“Simply put, it’s a prison”
“Or at least it houses one,” he amends, pointing toward that black stain at the far end
“My kin and I make it our business to intern the dangerous and the wicked – to spare the world from their cruelty and madness”
“It isn’t a glamorous life, but it fills us with…satisfaction”
“A noble cause,” Celestia concedes slowly, “but why here? This valley could be a paradise; why sully such a lovely place with such a gloomy purpose?”
“Because,” Warden explains, “as you no doubt know having traveled here, it is far, far out of the way, and when these brutes escape”
He nods again at the unmoving form on the ground
“We have time to catch them before they inflict any further harm upon the civilized parts of the world”
The Evermare’s eldest daughter still looks skeptical, but you see her beginning to soften
“May I ask your names?” the stallion inquires innocently
“Luna Selena,” the young version of your princess proclaims, bowing and flaring her wings
“And I am Celestia Astra, second name my mother’s first” her sister adds with a cautious nod, eyes refusing to leave the stranger
“A pleasure,” Warden returns, bowing lower this time
He wears the look of one whose suspicions are confirmed, and it does not go unnoticed, only unacknowledged
“Had we met under happier circumstances, I’d pour you a drink”
“However, I bear no bottles or flasks, only the unpleasant task of dragging this…thing back to where he belongs”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to help?”
“He’s a bit heavy”
As if sensing his impending fate, the minotaur awakens, lids fluttering open
Celestia’s head snaps toward him and their gazes meet
The longer she stares at him, the more her eyes narrow and the corners of her mouth turn down
The stallion looks back and forth between the two of them, a bit confused
“Under normal circumstances,” she tells Warden, “I would help you”
“But I’m afraid I cannot”
“And why is that?” he wonders nonchalantly
“Because your smile is false” the demigoddess breathes, the beginnings of a snarl forming on her lips
“And everything you just told me was a lie”
There’s a metallic snap, and the shackles that bound the minotaur just moments ago now encircle Warden’s hooves
“What is the mean–” his outrage is silenced as the leather strap completes the ensemble, pulled taut by golden light
His own aura flares green, but dies quickly when her blade touches the base of his horn
“It seems you know of me, creature,” she hisses threateningly, “so you may be banking on the knowledge that I do not like to kill”
“But I will not hesitate to disarm you”
“Permanently”
His struggles cease and he stands still, shivering slightly
Luna looks a bit surprised, but otherwise unfazed, waiting patiently for some kind of explanation
The minotaur snorts, opening his unbound mouth and looking around in bewilderment at the sudden turn in his circumstances
Slowly, he rises, staggering to his feet and clutching his wounded arm
Trickles of blood run down it, staining his copper fur and dripping at the elbow
“Forgive me,” Celestia begs him with a sigh
“Rarely have I met a liar so adept as this one”
With a small shove, her axe makes a tiny bite in Warden’s horn, and he shudders
The minotaur’s eyelids flutter, and his legs look like they might buckle
“You should sit down,” Luna tells him gently, trusting her sister implicitly
“Let me help you”
The beast ignores her, gazing intently at the elder sister
“Give him to me,” he demands, finally speaking, his voice a deep, parched rasp
He points a damning finger at the restrained stallion, who whimpers
“I’m afraid of what might happen if I do,” Celestia replies earnestly
The minotaur’s gaze bores into hers, even his ruined eye glaring daggers and glistening with wetness
His whole body trembles with rage and his jaw quivers, mouth turned down and lips curled back in contorted agony
His accusatory claw points at her now
“Unless you mean…to kill me”
His words are labored, each one scouring his parched throat like sandpaper
“You will not stop me”
They stare at each other for a long moment
Tears stream down his face
Her eyes grow ever wider as she searches deeper into his thoughts
Her breath catches in her throat, and her own cheeks becomes stained with rivulets of sorrow
She lowers her weapon and steps back
Warden squirms and thrashes as two great, muscular arms lift him off the ground
His horn sparks, but a clawed hand wraps around it
You can see the flesh blistering under the heat of magic, but its owner heeds not the pain
With a wet pop the magic is cracked off at the source, and the splintered horn lands dead in the grass
A muffled scream escapes the stallion’s bound muzzle, but it fizzles into a guttural moan as his neck is twisted further and further toward its breaking point
You can see every cord and fiber resisting death as the minotaur grasps his body in one arm, using the other to twist his skull around in a lethal circle
His shackled legs kick and spasm, beating any piece of his assailant within reach
But the pounding of hooves against that hard-corded wrath is like shooting bullets at a freight train
With a final, strangled exhale and a snapping of gristle, Warden is no more
He is ruined, and yet you can see no relief in his executioner’s visage, only regret and disappointment
Whatever unfathomable grief he caused the starving creature, this grisly act of violence has done nothing to assuage it
The corpse hits the ground with a wet thump, and the minotaur gazes up at the red-stained sky and its multicolored clouds
“That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I thought it would be,” he comments
“I don’t condone murder,” Celestia tells him, her voice tentative, feeling him out a bit, “but in this case, I don’t mind looking the other way”
“What are you called, sir?”
“My name is Willing,” he answers, giving no gesture of greeting beyond eye contact and a nod
“But among good company, I go by my surname”
“So call me Abel”
If his middle name is “Nathaniel” or anything that starts with an “N,” you’re going to ragequit this dream
The sisters bow
“This was not murder,” he continues
“It was justice”
“That,” the sun mare says, raising one eyebrow and turning her head as she looks up at him, “is a very dangerous way of thinking, and one I do not wish to fall into”
“Philosophy is the sum of experience,” Abel replies gruffly
Celestia doesn’t hear him, instead looking at Luna, who is staring at the ground with increasing alarm
Not the ground actually
Warden’s corpse
You notice, as she clearly has, that the blood – if that’s even what it is – trickling from his mouth is not red, nor does it flow like a normal liquid
It oozes like sap, a shimmering, phosphorescent green
All gathered watch with varying degrees of disbelief as the broken body begins to glow with the same pale emerald light
The dirty beige of his coat is slowly disappearing, as if the hair is growing in reverse
The skin turns black and hardens, taking on a leathery consistency
“What is this devilry?” the young alicorn hisses
“I don’t know,” her sister whispers, watching with similar disgust and fascination
But you know
You’ve heard many tales, and even see a few of them in your travels
When the transformation is complete, an alien being lies before them, staring up with multifaceted, insectoid eyes and a fanged mount frozen in an expression of desperate agony, despite its bindings
“What is this?” Luna repeats, her shocked gaze trained on Abel
“I’ll explain later,” he assures, “but right now we must get out of the open”
“Her eyes see far”
“Come with me”
He starts toward the thicket from which he originally came, but then stops almost immediately, pausing thoughtfully
Bending down, he grabs the carcass by a leg and then continues toward the overgrown tangle of trees and bushes
The two mares share a glance and then follow
“What do you intend to do with that?” Luna wonders
Abel turns and gives her a rough but almost apologetic smile
“I’m hungry”
The sun is low in the sky, darkness fast approaching
A strange fire blazes, a spectrum ranging from teal to blue in place of the normal warm yellows and oranges
The wood from which it rises never blackens, which is a good thing considering the dangerous amount of dry brush that surrounds it
A wet crack resounds through the small, well-hidden clearing in the thicket, and two sisters wince
Abel sits in front of the blue-green flame on a recently-moved rock, prying the skin off of Warden’s severed leg
A thorough cooking has given it a shell-like quality, and he breaks it apart in pieces and digs the black and green meat out from within, stuffing his face with reckless abandon
A great trail of sticky grease runs down his chin and into his goatee, his chest and hands being fairly well-coated too
Luna watches him intently, fascination and disgust pulling her expression in two opposite directions
Celestia keeps her glazed eyes trained on the fire as one hoof cradles her stomach
Her telekinesis absent-mindedly runs a whetstone over the blade of her halberd
“What does it…taste like?” Luna wonders hesitantly, and her sister groans silently
The minotaur pauses in his scarfing and taps his greasy chin
“I take it you don’t often eat other creatures, yes?”
“Rarely,” she confirms
“Still,” he continues, “have you ever been to the coast? Seen the ocean and the villages there?”
She nods
“Ever eaten a crab?”
“Once or twice,” she admits, “but only for politeness’ sake”
“Well,” he says, using one claw to free a piece of meat from between two incisors, “it’s a lot like that. A great big, oily crab with rubbery flesh that tastes like the kind of mold that grows on old cheese”
“It’s an acquired taste”
Celestia has been wilting further and further during the exchange, her grimacing muzzle now pointed toward the ground
“What is this place?” Luna prompts, both sensing the need for a change in topic and being the only one who still has no idea what’s going on
“That’s a good question,” says Abel, “and it shouldn’t be answered by a thirsty throat”
“I don’t suppose you’ve got anything to drink?”
“What do you desire?”
“Whatever you’ve got”
“I’ve got quite a few things”
“Just give me something, cow!”
Luna’s head jerks back
Her brow is furrowed, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face
Abel bites his lip and rubs the back of his neck
“My apologies,” he says hastily, “there are certain Tauric idioms that don’t ah…translate well into other cultures”
“If you happen to have any mead, I’d be grateful”
Luna nods bemusedly and opens one of her packs, rummaging through it
As seconds and then minutes tick by, the minotaur watches with increasing bewilderment as she digs and digs, and you begin to suspect that – like many of Luna’s possessions – her saddlebags give a steadfast middle finger to the laws of physics, a notion that is confirmed when she finally produces a flagon that is twice the size of the bag itself
Abel swiftly uncorks it and empties half the contents in one gulp
He wipes his mouth with a greasy hand and offers it back to her with the other, his arm trembling slightly
The wound near its shoulder has gone unattended
A steadily drying river of blood runs down to the elbow
Luna takes a deep draught and then hoofs the flask back
Celestia silently refuses the same offer
Abel takes another great pull and then sets his drink down, looking slowly back and forth between the two mares who sit on either side of him
“Before I say anything else, I wish to thank you both”
“I’m not a bull who puts much stock in sentimentality”
“But my heart beats strong, and I thank you from the bottom of it”
“I would rather die than go back to that place, and it is only because of you that I didn’t have to pick one or the other”
“Your gratitude is not necessary, but it is appreciated,” Celestia tells him, apparently recovered from her queasiness
“What place?” Luna presses
“Ah, yes,” Abel coughs, clearing his throat
“Now I will answer your question”
He takes one more drink before proceeding
“You were wrong about one thing, Astra,” he begins, turning to the elder sister
“Please, call me Celestia”
“Not everything he told you was a lie, Celestia”
“This place is indeed a prison, yet it houses no criminals”
“Well, there are surely a few,” he amends, “but if so, the punishment they receive is not for their crimes”
“There are quite a few names for Warden and his kind”
He picks another piece of flesh from the leg and chews as he talks
“They live here and there in the dark, damp places of the world, and if you believe you’ve never encountered one before, you are wrong”
“You just didn’t know it”
Realization flits across Celestia’s features
“I am blind to them,” she breathes mostly to herself, eyes swimming with memories
“His thoughts clouded my mind, and I’ve felt it before”
“My people call them faeries, and the Zebras call them night crawlers in their own tongue,” Abel explains
“Some call them dragonfly ponies or changelings”
“They are wretched things by nature”
“They will steal you away and take your place, just to feel your family’s love”
“The forests of the north – the place where I was born – are home to many of them, and when I was growing up, more than a few children in my village were taken by fae ponies, who would live amongst us until they were found out”
“But they’re a cowardly people, and they would always give up their captives when we threatened them”
“By and large, they’re more frightening in legend than in person. Most of them aren’t much more than a nuisance”
“Most,” Celestia interjects softly, giving voice to the implication
“But not all,” the minotaur finishes, completing the thought
“These ones…they’re a different breed”
He falls silent for a moment, needing to put the next part perfectly and gathering the words
His dead eye doesn’t always close all the way when he blinks, and he rubs it as though it itches
“Why take one person and send a single changeling to infiltrate a family when you can just take the entire family?”
“Or the entire village”
He snorts, clenching his fists
“That thing you see there,” he points toward the dark end of the valley even though it can’t be seen through the trees, “is Tartarus brought to earth”
“They take anyone unfortunate to fall under their sight, and as far as I know, no one has ever escaped”
“No one except me”
“If it weren’t for you two, I’d be unable to say even that”
“How did you get out?” Luna asks, her voice laced with sadness but driven by curiosity
“I’d rather not talk about it,” Abel says, draining the last of the mead
“Regardless,” she continues, “it’s fortunate we just happened to arrive here on the day of your escape”
Abel chuckles mirthlessly, tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder
“No, you didn’t”
“I climbed out of that slimy pit over a month ago”
“A month? Why are you still here?”
“Oh, I’ve found many ways out of this valley,” he admits, rubbing his eye again, “but I cannot leave”
“My wife, my son, and my brother…we were captured together, and they all perished in that vile hive”
He speaks of his family without emotion, as though they’ve been dead for a very, very long time
“But there are many others like them who still live, and I have spent the last few weeks at this very spot” – he points at the ground – “trying to think of a plan to free them”
“Then Warden found me…and you saw the rest”
The little clearing goes quiet but for the breathing of its three inhabitants and the crackling of the spellfire before them
The sun is setting, and the clouds thicken above, taking on hues of orange and purple
“Sister”
Young Luna breaks the silence
“We have the loyalties of the zebra tribe to the west, and the fisher griffons on the coast, do we not?”
Celestia gives a concessional nod
“I can move swiftly on my own,” the night mare says confidently
“Give me three days, and I will fly upriver and raise an militia that can wipe these faerie creatures off the face of the earth”
“No”
The day mare has been relatively silent for a while now, but when she looks up, her eyes look through her sister
She gazes into infinity and all the questions it brings
“I have seen his memories, Lu”
She tilts her head toward Abel
“And I do not wish to see such things ever again”
The trees are thick, and they limit the sky
The clouds grow denser, and they blot out what little is left of it
But as the sun bows behind the mountains, a small patch of the heavens remains unobscured
And the stars sparkle against her eyes in the twilight
“We don’t have time to raise an army, little sister”
“People are suffering every moment we wait”
“This ends tonight”
Abel gives his endorsement with a nod and a grunt
The two alicorns lock on each other, and Luna raises her chin
“Very well,” she nods
“Then give me a few hours to prepare”
“This will not be easy”
“No, it won’t” Celestia acknowledges
“But this is why we came here”
“And it will be right”
As her sister wastes no time in opening her packs to prepare potions and spells, she turns to Abel
“I’m going to ask you a question to which I already know the answer, dear minotaur”
“Will you not stay behind and rest?”
“Will you not let your wounds heal?”
He chuckles
“It is good you already know the answer, because frankly, I am tired of speaking”
He unrolls the bandage that Luna gave him earlier when he was too hungry and thirsty to care about his injuries, and begins to cinch it tightly around his arm
“Besides, you will need a guide”
“The faeries’ keep is more treacherous than you could possibly know”
“And they are without mercy”
He lifts the bottle of mead and then remembers it’s empty, a fact which puts a grim expression on his face
“I know your type, Astra, and it worries me”
“Celestia, please, and what do you mean?”
“You’re afraid to kill”
“I am not afraid,” the alicorn corrects, and you can hear a hint of indignation
“I am seven-hundred years old, my friend, and I have never encountered a situation that couldn’t be solved without resorting to murder”
The minotaur shakes his head, chuckling
“There it is again”
“To you, killing and murder are one in the same”
“Because you’ve never encountered true evil”
The future princess remains silent
The last bit of daylight finally vanishes, and he stares up at the gathering clouds, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs the air
“You couldn’t have picked a more perfect night,” Abel says, words punctuated by the clink of flasks and vials as Luna hastily hones her own weapons on the whetstone of her mind
“The moon is new”
He draws another deep breath
“And it smells like rain”
An assault in the dead of night
As you watch the torrent that pours from the sky, it occurs to you that you’ve never seen an alicorn run before
Like, really run
They always teleport, but doing so now would give them away
Luna moves with such speed that her mane and tail – despite being soaked through – whip through the air behind her
Her cloak billows, unaffected by the water
The towers of the changelings’ keep stab at the sky above
Organic spires that resemble wasp’s nests stand atop steel, brick and mortar, and you realize the foundation is not of their own craft
The fortress that forms the base of the structure was built by somebody else, but now it belongs to them
It strikes you that this young version of Luna is the perfect scout
She’s small, quiet, evidently fast, and most importantly, she can relay messages to any party with nothing but a thought
Before you even have time to think, a lone changeling meanders out from around a corner
His bluish eyes don’t blink as raindrops pound against them
Without a moment’s hesitation, Luna hits him with a full-body tackle, and you can hear a snap as they roll three times in the mud
On the third she somersaults forward and continues her silent dash, stride unbroken, unlike the changeling’s neck
You realize that even back then, Luna’s admiration for her sister never equated to following her code of conduct
The front entrance to the keep is shut tight, occluded by an iron portcullis
She slides to a stop, sticking an indiscernible object to the center of it
Her horn sparks with the barest of light, and whatever the thing is, it begins to pulse with a glow that would be hard to notice even on a clear night
Under the cover of this storm, it is all but undetectable
She turns around and backtracks, skidding around the side of the fortress and making for a nondescript spot in the rocky cliff face that cradles it
Behind a jagged boulder and some rotting trees lies the opening of a narrow, hidden tunnel
After one final scan of the surroundings – hurried but thorough – you hear her unspoken call
“Come”
“Now”
After just a few minutes, mud-muted hoofsteps signal the arrival of the rest of the party
Celestia’s wet hair is plastered to her helm, her weapon fastened to her back
You begin to wonder why she of all people carries such a thing
Abel follows close behind her
His right hand is wrapped around the base of his own armament – a crudely-fashioned bludgeon, carved from the trunk of a small tree
One end is thick and heavy, the other ends in a point whittled to vicious sharpness
When they reach their scout, all three huddle behind the rock, their gazes panning about uneasily
“We have one hour,” Luna whispers
“I hope you know what you’re doing”
“Trust me,” Abel says solemnly
There is no trace of humor in his voice
Celestia is quiet
With a collective nod of agreement, the three enter the foreboding passage before them
The day mare goes first, the minotaur follows her, and the youngest sister brings up the rear
Inside, it’s pitch black until Celestia’s horn flares
Her warm, golden light reveals a rough chasm that you’re not sure whether to peg as a natural formation or a deliberate creation
Luna’s magic sparks as well, encircling her sister’s horn
She then throws her hood over her head, hiding the glow rendering herself a pegasus to the eye
The tunnel descends, curving to the north, and as it does it slowly widens
Uncounted minutes pass, and you can see the silent tension mounting among the three companions with each second
Then Celestia stops abruptly and the other two nearly crash into her
Just before her hooves, the floor suddenly drops off into a pit deep enough that the light doesn’t reach its bottom
She opens her wings, not wanting to risk the snap and flash of a teleportation
It’s close – their tips touch the walls on either side – but she jumps without hesitation
Halfway down the chasm shrinks, and she has to tuck them in, making for an ungraceful landing
Abel climbs after her, his clawed hands and hooved feet having no trouble finding purchase on the rock
He’s done this before
Luna remains at the top, watching their tail until both of the others are on solid ground again
She herself descends in an incorporeal billow of black smoke
Though this vision is carefully constructed, you can’t feel what they’re feeling
But you can hear the hot, musty humidity in their labored breathing
You can see the smell in the taught expressions on their faces
This place is like a rancid sauna
The walls are wet and sticky with grime, and through them run pulsing tendrils that look like veins of fluorescent blue and green
This cavern is much wider, and the trio finally has room to breathe
Even if they’d rather not
The minotaur takes the first step forward, but clips it short
A high-pitched scream reverberates from deep within the hollow ahead, cut off just as abruptly as it begins
Celestia’s chest rises and falls rapidly as she drinks in the disquieting ambience
Her young self lacks the immaculate composure you’re used to, but her expression is stony and her eyes like steel
She removes her halberd from the holster on her back and hovers it at her side
Luna’s head tilts forward ever-so-slightly, the blue-green glow of magic that surrounds her sister’s horn thickening
“We need to move,” she urges with a whisper
More unsettling noises echo in the distance as they proceed, making their ears twitch
The shouts and cries are carried on a low, phased rushing sound, like static from a television funneled through a glass tube
Their cautions hoofsteps sound uneven, sometimes hitting rock and other times squishing against whatever damp filth coats the ground here
But their pace quickens out of necessity, and after a moment the tunnel makes a sharp left turn
The veins in the wall thicken in both size and frequency, and the source of the rushing noise is revealed
Water from the river above works its way down into this subterranean network, forming a shroud at the passage’s end that completely obscures whatever lies beyond save for the light
A pale green radiance that dances and flickers off the stone and the three faces as it filters through the liquid
They stop when they reach the waterfall, having no idea what lies behind
After a moment of silent deliberation, Luna opens one of her packs to retrieve a telescoping spyglass made of brass, one end of which she uses to breach the falling veil
She puts the other end to her eye, and you can tell from the wide, slow arcs in which she moves it that the room beyond is vast
When she finally puts it away and looks back at the others, she’s shaken
“How many?” Celestia wonders
“Only five,” her sister replies
The day mare nods
“Quickly and quietly,” she says
Luna assents wordlessly and then turns to the minotaur
“Abel, there’s a ten-yard drop…”
“Don’t worry about me,” he cuts her off gruffly
“Time is ticking,” the night mare reminds
“Let’s go”
In the glowing grotto beyond, green tendrils cease to be veins in the walls and instead become the walls
Chitinous, cocoon-like pods hang from the ceiling, emitting the same sickly light that bathes the entire place
Celestia bursts through the waterfall with Abel in her wake
He lands hard but firm as she dives at the first changeling to turn its head, knocking it out with a single jab from the balled end of her weapon
Before the others even have time to react, there’s a flash, silent but blinding, and the room fills with dark purple smoke
You hear the thump and crack of wood against carapace as the minotaur dispatches another one of them
The next one might not’ve even known he was dead as Luna reaches out of the haze to snap his neck from behind
The last two charge side-by-side at Celestia, their horns sparking
She releases the magical hold on her halberd and spins on a forehoof, her back legs kicking it like two pistons
The flat of the blade slaps one changeling into unconsciousness, its handle taking the other’s legs out from under him and sending him skidding to a stop before the alicorn
A sharp blow to the temple sends him the way of his fellow
Before the weapon touches the floor, that golden glow enwraps it again, and it returns to its owner’s side
She holsters it and kills her magic
This chamber is bright enough that her light – and Luna’s concealing spell – are no longer necessary
She spares a quick upward glance as the smoke begins to clear, regarding the glowing sacs that hang from the ceiling among black stalactites
“These ones are eggs,” Abel comments, wiping the green blood from his club
“We best leave them alone”
He turns
There are many holes and channels leading out of this pit in different directions, but he homes in on one of the largest ones
The clatter of hooves and the buzz of insectoid wings begins to echo in the distance
“Come,” he hisses, “the vault is this way”
They hurry through the opening and round another sharp corner
Luna once again trails behind, and just before she disappears around the bend she takes a final look back
Scores of blue, multifaceted eyes gaze at her from many dark holes
“Gods damn it,” she breathes, opening her saddle bag once more and retrieving a large flask that looks to be made of steel
Etched on its side is the image of an equine skull and two crossed bones
Atop its neck is a metal stopper held in place by no less than three clamps, which she hastily undoes
She turns her head away and holds her breath
The contents pour like syrup, and she splashes the liquid all about the entrance to the tunnel, finally dropping the bottle and magically digging through her pack, no longer concerned with being spotted
The next thing she digs out is no mysterious arcane weapon
The metallic object is both familiar and unfamiliar – a lighter
You’ve never seen one this large or this rough-looking before, but it’s still recognizable – like a very crude version of the silver zippo you used to carry many years ago in your old life
You wonder why she needs such a thing; surely she knows a plethora of spells that can produce fire
She ignites it and takes it in her aura, hovering it above the noxious oil that soaks the floor
She dashes after her companions with great haste, leaving it floating behind
Your vision follows her as she overtakes Abel and her sister, nearly running up the wall when she rounds the corner
“Run!” she barks as she passes them, and both put on a burst of speed
She glances back repeatedly
Abel can’t match their immortal swiftness, and Celestia stays with him, but the buzz and clicking of mandibles is growing louder
“Tia!” Luna cries desperately
The sun mare grabs the minotaur in her aura and throws him on her back, his mass no burden to her
Her hooves pound against the stone hard enough to chip it with each stride as she catches up to her sibling
With a final glance back, Luna’s horn goes dark
A chorus of shrieks is eclipsed by the billowing rumble of flames as blue-green spellfire chases the two alicorns through the damp passageway, forcing their pace and illuminating the path ahead
Even your incorporeal vision is warped by the heat that lashes at their manes and tails, burning their ends into frizzled brown ribbons
Abel chokes and holds on for dear life as Celestia accelerates, her hooves shattering the rocks they strike
Most of her mane clings to her helm with sweat, but its ends flail in the heat
Luna’s legs cannot match her sister’s clip, and she dissipates in a black and purple flash, racing ahead as a cloud of smoke
The tunnel ends, and with a flare and turn of her wings, Celestia redirects her momentum to the left, sliding out of the path of a column of multicolored flame that erupts from it
The sharp turn finally causes the minotaur to lose his grip, and he hits the ground with a thump and a groan
“Are you insane?” the eldest alicorn demands when her sister reincorporates next to her
Luna opens her mouth to retort, but she doesn’t get the chance
Her gaze falls upon the cavern before her, and her mouth just stays open, jaw growing ever-more-slack
A wetness that has nothing to do with the sting of heat forms in her eyes
“Old gods…”
The only light is that of the glowing green tendrils that weave in and out of the gray stone like ancient tree roots, but it’s all that’s necessary
In the sudden silence, you can hear a slow, rushing pulse emanating from them
The eerie yet smooth landscape of dark rock and organic hideousness that your eyes – and theirs – have grown accustomed to is rent by jagged, rusted iron
Cages
There are cages everywhere
They hang from the ceiling in droves amongst the stalactites
They are shoved in corners and stacked on top of each other all over the cavern floor
There are cells carved into the walls, sealed by iron bars that do not attach to hinged doorframes, but are anchored into the ground
Hundreds of eyes of all colors and shapes stare at Abel and the sisters
Wide and bloodshot
But not a word is spoken
There is no sound but the slow drip of poisoned water, and the scuttle of chitinous things crawling in the distance
Luna looks to her right, into the nearest cage
The creature appears to be a zebra, but it’s covered in so much dirt and grime that you can’t be sure of its species, let alone sex
You thought Abel looked ragged and starved
This filthy, trembling thing looks like a corpse buried for a week, dug up, and then reanimated with just enough will to stare blankly into the distance
Celestia’s chin quivers and she keeps blinking as she peers into this gallery of dark, shivering forms
Her gaze rests on no one particular thing
Glazed pupils reflect the green light from all directions, and she scans them like a field of stars
“Save your sadness,” Abel tells her and her sister in a loud whisper
“They know someone’s here”
“We have to work quickly”
Luna physically shakes off her emotions, but her elder sibling remains rooted in place
“Tia, come on, we don’t have much time”
“Tia!”
Even when shoved, the great alicorn doesn’t move
Her head continues to pan slowly back and forth
“Get her up and let’s go,” Abel hisses, heading for a nearby passage, club at the ready
“Wait,” Luna calls, holding up a hoof and then gesturing at the room
“Where are you going? Help me with these bars!”
The minotaur turns around, ears agitated by the growing buzz that reverberates from the spell-burnt cave at their rear
“No,” he says, shaking his head
“We can do nothing for these ones”
Without another word, he disappears into the next tunnel
The night mare stammers and stamps her hoof in confusion, her expression furious and confused
“Luna,” Celestia breathes, body still rigid
“They all want to die”
A loud snap reverberates through another small, fluorescent cavern
A muffled cry follows
It comes from a creature whose likes you’ve never seen before
Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but while you recognize it as a griffon, it’s not like the ones that inhabit the Equestrian continent
Its feathers black like a crow’s, as is its body, which resembles a panther more than a lion
The catlike back is covered in long, open wounds
Luna narrows her eyes and raises a hoof towards it
“No pain”
She turns her gaze on the changeling, who is readying his lash once more
“Know pain”
The whip cracks again, but this time its bearer screams, dropping it as the glow from his horn suddenly fizzles out
A thin, oozing line runs across his leathery back, though it was never struck
He has no time to recover before a blow to the side of the head sends him sprawling
The griffon’s shackles clink open, and she – you can tell it’s a she – slowly rises turns to her rescuers
“Abel?”
Her tone and expression are suspicious, as though she can’t trust her senses
He just nods curtly, and she seems to relax
“You came back?”
She has a thick accent that you don’t recognize, but the sisters’ ears turn subtly forward, and you can tell they do
He just nods again
“No time to explain,” he says, dismissing the implied question with a clawed hand
“If you know the way out, go, otherwise hide – we’ll be back”
“I don’t think we should come back this way,” Celestia says, hovering her weapon over the unconscious changeling
“No choice,” Abel counters gruffly, pointing to a wide stair on the left
“That’s the only way to the surface”
Skittering and shouting echo from the passage the trio just emerged from
“They’re already onto us, and we’ve got about fifteen minutes before the entire hive knows we’re here,” Luna reminds
“If they don’t already”
She looks to the minotaur to guide them
Just as he’s beginning to move, he stops himself and turns toward Celestia, grasping his bludgeon by the thick end and raising it so that the spike at its other hovers above her head
She steps back in surprise just before he brings it down, piercing the changeling’s neck and showering her in sticky green blood
“If you leave your enemies alive,” he snarls, jamming a finger in her muzzle
“You murder your friends”
Without another word, he sets off down the next tunnel at as rapid a pace as caution allows
The griffoness, apparently confident in her own abilities, bounds up the stairs on feline paws
“Tia, let’s go”
The sun alicorn blinks and then gathers herself
As she follows, she spares a final glance at the bleeding changeling
Dawn is approaching
With an abruptness not normally found in natural formations, the passage they follow opens into a vast cavern with no floor
It reaches high, but infinitely more deep
A thin, stone bridge arcs from their hooves to an opening on its far side
Below there is nothing but unmeasurable distance, further obscured by mist and that ubiquitous green glow
Without hesitation, Abel dashes across, the sisters having enough room to follow him on wing
He charges through the rift on the other side, and they follow
Before the alicorns’ hooves even touch the floor, he’s already delivered a killing blow to an unsuspecting changeling
Dozens of blue-green eyes fix on him, and all is chaos as screeches and the blur and hum of insectoid wings descend out of the crevices above
Bright flashes fill the air with smoke and confusion as Luna vanishes in a turn of her cloak
Chitinous hooves hit the floor at a gallop while the drone of wings grows louder as more and more of them emerge from the cracks
A golden glow fills the hazy hollow, and in a burst of light that seems like the sun brought to earth, the first wave is blown back by a concussive surge of magic
But it doesn’t stop the swarm
Another golden glint of a more metallic nature flits through the dark, and the balled pommel of Celestia’s halberd sweeps through the air, knocking back a dozen of the faerie-winged creatures
She releases it from her aura for just a moment and flips it over her back, letting the flat of the blade smash two more into unconsciousness
Her magic grips it just long enough to pop it into the air, and she wheels around and kicks it in a more powerful version of the move she pulled earlier, bowling them over in droves
You wondered why a mare who refuses to kill would carry such a weapon, and now you know
Her precision keeps the blade from touching her foes
But it’s there if she needs it
The halberd trips yet more attackers on its magically-fueled return to her
It tumbles over her back again, guided by her wings, and the axe head anchors itself in the ground as she releases the next massive stunning spell that she was buying time for
Luna flits in and out of corporeality, leaving smoke, distractions, and fallen assailants in her immaterial wake
Abel fights with none of the finesse of his comrades
But he is strong, and full of rage
He swings his club with brute force, breaking backs and crushing skulls
He gouges eyes with his clawed fingers and his powerful bovine teeth snap at any limb within reach
The sisters fight to defend
He fights to maim and kill
As many as possible
Celestia’s horn charges once more, and a final jolt of golden force stuns the last of them
As the dust begins to clear, your ears and theirs are met by a sound you would never have expected down here
Cheers
“Abel!”
Many voices call his name
The cages that line this expansive chamber have actual doors
Probably so their occupants can be regularly taken out and beaten, you realize
The creatures within are disheveled from abuse and gaunt with starvation
But they are alive in more than just the physical sense
Zebras, minotaur, and dark-colored griffons dominate them
It makes sense, as they are – from what you’ve gleaned – the majority of the local population
But there are other, rarer beings as well
An Arabian equine
Several large, shaggy yaks
Even a dragon, still young enough to fit in one of the small enclosures
Unfortunate passers-by who have spent more time in this valley than they ever intended to
They are not like the first ones you saw in that dreadfully silent room
They grasp at the bars and peer through them eagerly, hope, curiosity, and even smiles on their faces
Other than a few nods, Abel ignores them for now
His eyes dart worriedly over the scores of dead and unconscious changelings
“We have to find the key,” he tells the sisters
“Nevermind that,” the sun alicorn grunts as she tears the door off one of the cells with her magic
Two prisoners taste their freedom with hopeful caution
An older-looking minotaur female, and a skinny, young male, barely a bull
She clings to him anxiously, and you realize they are mother and son
As you observe the rest of the captives, it begins to dawn on you that the cellmates are not just arbitrarily thrown together
There are families here
“Luna,” Celestia shouts, “help me get these open”
The shrieking and scuttling from the direction of the bridge tells them they have mere seconds to do so
“There’s no time, Tia,” Luna says in a harsh whisper
“Guard the entrance”
“I need to concentrate”
As her sister takes a defensive position by the door without hesitation, she magics open her right pack and withdraws a delicate little object
A small metal skull – an alicorn’s, if you’re not mistaken – from which stems a thin, brass shaft
As she turns it in her magical grasp, you can see hundreds of miniscule, intricately-crafted telescoping pins that emerge from it in all directions
The craftsmanship is identical to that of the spyglass she used earlier, as well as being reminiscent of a few disused tools you catch glimpses of when Luna opens her potion cabinet
The screeches and clatter become louder
She inserts the skeleton key into the lock on the nearest cell door
“Hurry, Lu”
“You mustn’t rush me, dear sister”
Luna’s words are gracious enough, but the edge in her voice and the sweat that sticks her mane to her temples contrast with them sharply
“Then I will,” Abel growls
“Work quickly”
Her eyes stare at some indeterminate point in the distance as soft – but impossibly rapid – metallic clicks emanate from within the keyhole, and you realize that while her tool is elegant and her magic dexterous, she’s just bruteforcing it
From your vantage point, you can’t see the other side of the bridge, but when Celestia and Abel’s postures lower in preparation, you know their time is almost up
With a slow breath, Luna’s eyes snap back to cognizance and the quiet clicks cease
But instead of turning the key, she withdraws it
She studies the configuration of the pins for a few long seconds, turning it around and around in her aura
Then she closes her eyes and her horn flares
With a resounding clack of bolts, every single lock in the vast cavern snaps open simultaneously
The cheering almost drowns out the sound of charging hooves and buzzing wings
Almost, but not quite
Just as the prisoners are beginning to push past the barred doors, a shriek fill the cavern, and in a golden flash, the first changeling is struck by the pommel of Celestia’s halberd
This place was clearly designed to be difficult to escape
The small archway through which the two sisters and their guide originally entered is the only way in or out, and just beyond it is that thin, treacherous bridge
This structural isolation is now both a blessing and a curse
There is no way for the enemy swarm that hovers outside to force its way through all at once
They can barely enter two by two, and those who do fall instantly to the sun mare’s blows
They gather outside, hissing and spitting as they peer in with their dead, insectoid eyes, but after half a dozen are dropped within a few seconds, they think better about trying to enter
Celestia stands rigid, weapon at a threatening ready with a menacing snarl on her face, but you know her well enough to see the anxiety and frustration tugging at her young self’s features
This is exactly what they didn’t want to happen
With another spark of her horn, a thin wall of bright light spreads across the entrance and she lowers her halberd, turning around
Her hair still sticks to her helm
The forelock that emerges from underneath the front of it clings damply to her forehead
They’ve been out of the rain for a while, and you realize how humid this place must be
Luna stares at her, clearly at a loss
Abel’s expression is grim, and you have no doubt he’s ready to die right here
But the weighty slump you can see in her shoulders comes from all the unfamiliar faces that peer at her through the dim, green glow that pervades this place
Her minotaur companion is hard – maybe he was born that way, maybe this is what the world made him, but regardless, he’s a fighter like her and her sister
These disheveled people of many races that look at her with expectant hope are not warriors
And yet the odds they face do not paint the picture of a battle that can be won without casualties
At least not if she follows her rule
With each passing moment that their stares weigh upon her, you can see that long-held principle beginning to erode
Just kill them
You can practically hear her thoughts
Just kill these repugnant, cruel things, and then none of these good people will have to suffer anymore
Hell, all she needs to do is hit them with a stunning spell
Technically, the blood wouldn’t be on her hooves, but on the bottom of the pit below
With a sigh, she looks back toward her magical barrier and the slavering horde of faerie ponies that hover just beyond it
“Lu?”
“Yes sister?”
“You’ll have to guide them,” she says, “I’m going to be occupied for the next few minutes”
The night mare nods in assent, and despite the fact that they aren’t looking at each other, the understanding is implicit
Celestia holsters her weapon and takes a deep breath, her horn beginning to glow
Then she exhales, and the shield drops
With a shock and a flash, she dives through the archway, blasting her attackers back and taking flight in the cavern on the other side
Another pulse releases an even larger stunning spell, and nearly the whole lot of the changeling horde is slammed against stone walls
Broken bones and concussions send many of them plummeting into the murky pit below
But they don’t fall far
A golden glow ensconces each individual form, and Celestia hovers in place, eyes closed in focus as she suspends every single one of her foes – conscious and unconscious – in the air
“Go!” she shouts, face screwed up in concentration
Luna mutters something that you don’t quite catch
You can’t make out what she’s saying, but her expression does a fine job of conveying the exasperation that her volume doesn’t
The prisoners are all too eager to leave, and the more intrepid among them start towards the thin bridge
The cloaked mare halts them with a hoof
Her eyes are narrowed and her gaze turned upward as she counts under her breath
She closes her eyes, and suddenly the whole cavern grinds and shudders as a deep roar echoes down from the keep above
Rocks and dust fall from the ceiling and cracks race through the walls
You could swear you see the ambient green glow flicker in and out like an electric light
Celestia is startled and nearly loses control of her spell, but she quickly recovers
“Going a little overboard with the pyrotechnics this evening?” she wonders raggedly as beads of sweat begin to form on her brow
“Better safe than sorry,” her sister calls back
“Apparently we have different understandings of what that means, Lu,” she says, rolling her eyes as much as she can while engaged with her magic
“Now go,” she shouts, “get these people out of here”
“Come with me,” Luna calls to the crowd
“Go quickly and don’t look down” she says, pointing toward the bridge
“If you fall, I will catch you”
Abel takes the lead, and the motley assortment of minotaurs, zebras, and other, stranger creatures follow him across the precarious stone arch that connects the two sides of the cavern
Those fortunate enough to have wings – the griffons and the young dragon – fly across and wait on the other side
As you saw on your way in, there are two passages there
The one through which they entered, and the stair leading up to the surface
The hum that comes from both tells you that stealth has gone out the window
The whole hive knows something is up
Suddenly, the noise turns from ambient to loudly present
The buzz of insectoid wings and the clatter of leathery hooves drown out the panicked cries of the prisoners as another slew of changelings gallop from both directions
A burst of orange and yellow spellfire lights up the drab darkness as the dragon unleashes his breath, incinerating the attackers that descend from the stair
You hear a guttural shout and a series of wet thumps as Abel swings his club, cracking the skulls and breaking the legs of the attackers that charge in from the other passage
The bug-like creatures continue to swarm in
Bolstered by another explosion of dragon flame, those prisoners who have safely crossed the bridge meet the assault with reckless abandon
You know they are not warriors, and they have no weapons, but this is a life and death fight in its plainest form
Tooth and nail, hoof and claw
A stricken Celestia watches the skirmish, her magical faculties already tied up to their breaking point
Flashes of light and explosive snaps dazzle your vision, and the air fills with smoke
From within the murk, a laser-like beam of blue-green light carves a path through the onslaught of fae ponies descending from above
Their broken bodies tumble down the stone stairs
With a bellow and a resounding crack, the minotaur caves another changeling’s head in
“Abel!” Luna calls to him through the obscuring haze
“Go!”
She points up the stair
“Take them!”
He nods, but something catches the corner of his eye
Celestia grips the changelings with all her might, but those few who remain unhurt are beginning to struggle against her
The cavern rumbles periodically, unsettled by the explosion from above
The last of the former captives are still making their way across the bridge
Abel’s gaze falls upon a pair of minotaurs that you saw earlier
The mother and the son
Despite Luna’s reassurance, they fear the fall, walking slowly and staring down into the abyss below
The young minotaur looks up just in time to see one eager changeling free itself from the sun mare’s golden glow and barrel towards him
Abel drops his weapon and runs
Minotaurs are – at least to your eye – very oddly proportioned creatures, so the burst of speed he puts on surprises you
With a cry of pure exertion, his cloven hooves leave the ground, propelling him over the great chasm like a rocket
He intercepts the changeling in a full-body tackle that sends him plummeting to his doom
Then all hell breaks loose
Celestia’s magic stops Abel from falling to his death, but in rescuing him, she releases the changelings
The broken ones fall, swallowed by the darkness below
But the conscious ones shake off their disorientation and dive toward the bridge
The creatures who still stand on it panic, several of them falling
She catches them as well, and levitates all her charges to solid ground
She drops them roughly, refocusing her magic just in time to blast back an attacking swarm
Luna appears to have cleared the stair for now, while her minotaur friend wastes no time in getting up and continuing to beat back the steady influx of assailants coming from the other tunnel
“You go,” he calls to her between blows, “take them up! There will be more on the surface!”
She looks around anxiously
He won’t be able to hold them off for long
Celestia is still in the air, weaving and dodging around the vast cavern, tailed by some very pissed-looking changelings
But it seems she’s conscious of the exchange
Turning on a dime, she dips under the bridge and then arcs back up, causing her less-agile pursuers to scatter
She lands next to Abel, and another powerful burst of golden light knocks back the attackers and buys them all some time
“Go, sister!” she shouts through the smoke and the pale green light
Without a moment’s hesitation, Luna motions for the prisoners to follow her, leading them up the stair as quickly and quietly as possible
The only ones that remain behind are those helping the elder alicorn and the minotaur stave off the onslaught
That dragon may not be full-grown, but he’s still a big motherfucker
He stands at the base of the steps, swinging his spiked tail back and forth in wide, powerful sweeps that stop anyone thinking of pursuing the escapees dead in their tracks
“Wait a sec,” you say, speaking for the first time in a long time
“You just left”
“How are we seeing this right now?”
“You weren’t there”
“You’re right, Anonymous”
“I never saw it first hoof”
“But I was there when she relived it every night for many years after”
“It is clearer in my mind than many of my own memories of that night”
Strike
Strike
Kick
Stun
Celestia is faster and more agile than any mere mortal could ever hope to be
But every blow is mitigated by that principle
Thou shalt not kill
“Go!” she shouts to the last remaining prisoners, “get out of here!”
The escape has been made
All they need to do is fall back and not get killed in the process
Abel is her opposite
He fights for no ideal other than his own survival
His teeth tear at ears and his fingers gouge eyes
He aims the spike on the end of his weapon straight for the heart
Together, they form a wall of blows that no changeling can penetrate
They are alone now, slowly giving ground and ascending the stairs as they fight
A sudden shrieking, grinding noise puts a hush over the mêlée
The minotaur spares not a moment’s attention, using the distraction to take out several more opponents
But the sun mare looks up, realizing they have bigger problems
Cracks rush through the rock above like spidery veins, sending jagged shards plummeting to the floor
A boulder large and sharp enough to cleave her in two is deflected by magic at the last second
She retreats up the stair, and her horn flares
Layers of overglow immediately ensconce it, and a hot, gold light permeates the collapsing ceiling
“Abel!” she cries, “let’s go!”
But the minotaur is incensed
He’s gone berserk
He swings his club in a graceful arc, incapacitating no less than five changelings, then brings it down on every one of their heads, splitting their skulls open in a wash of green blood
Celestia retreats further up the stair, and another cloak of shimmering light enwraps her horn
You’ve only seen magical exertion like this one other time in your life
When your princess challenged the power of the Goddess
She opens her mouth to shout again, but no words come out, only a scream – long, loud, and defiant
She fights the will of the earth itself, but it’s a losing battle
Her horn goes dark but immediately blazes again, and you hear the distantly-familiar sound of a gunshot going off in reverse as she teleports herself and her friend out of the fray
She is weak, and only takes them mere yards, just beyond the falling stone
The entire cavern collapses, crushing most of the changelings into oblivion
But a few make it out, and they rush straight for Abel as he hits the ground hard, disoriented in the wake of his magical transportation
They attack without mercy, goring him with their jagged horns and biting him with sharp teeth before he can regain his faculties
“NO!”
In an explosion of desperate light, Celestia casts another stunning spell, but in her current state it’s barely enough to knock them off their hooves
With a second guttural scream, she raises her weapon in her weakened grip and swings
A changeling’s severed head hits the floor with a thump
Another collapses as his leg is taken off
She cleaves one cleanly in two
They are terrified and routed
But the only way they have to run is up, toward her sister and the prisoners, and you can see that realization in her eyes
There are only three left, and they don’t flee far before she grabs them with her aura in a final blaze of magical exertion
Her legs falter – possibly with exhaustion, or possibly with remorse – and she snaps their necks
All is silent, and she falls to the ground
Her hooves scrabble against the steps as she lurches toward the minotaur, but he is beyond help
“Astra,” he wheezes as she reaches him
“I’m so sorry,” she whimpers, tears streaming down her cheeks
“There’s no time to be sorry,” he breathes, pausing to cough up a bubble of blood
“Kill her”
Fear and confusion crease her brow
“Kill the queen, or this will happen again”
Her mouth tries to say “who?” but he cuts her off
“I lied to you, and I am sorry”
“My wife, my son, and my brother still live”
“They live in that chamber full of broken wretches that wish to die”
“I hope it collapses and kills them so that we might all be reunited in the afterlife”
His chest rises and falls rapidly in a death rattle
“You are irredeemably good”
“But you must kill her”
“Destroy her, so that nobody will suffer like this ever again”
Celestia opens her mouth once again to respond, but she would be speaking to no one
In a last shudder, the light of life leaves Abel’s eyes
All she can do is cry, and cry she does
For him
And for her useless, broken principle
The rain pours down outside the gaping hole that has been blown in the front of the keep
The iron portcullis has been rent to ribbons by a magical explosion, and the former prisoners spill though it, tasting wet freedom as they dash out into the downpour
“Where is Abel?” past Luna wonders, not being privy to the haunting dreams her sister will have for years to come
Celestia’s teeth clench in agony
She communicates all she needs to with a simple shake of her head
Luna wilts
“Go, Lu,” the eldest alicorn says through hot and sticky tears that are whipped back by the wind that drifts in from the outside
“Get them out of here”
“There is something I need to do”
“As usual,” Luna smiles sadly, “you underestimate all but yourself”
“They are free, but I am not yet”
“I must follow you, sister”
The dragon’s fire cooks any changelings that dare challenge the escapees
The prisoners are out of their hell
Unlike the future sun princess’s conscience
But she has her sister
They ascend another set of stairs with heavy hearts, traveling into the core of the hateful keep
As they rise, they notice something peculiar and unique to this place
Sculptures of changelings and other things
All around them are intricately-carved statues of the creatures that crawl through these chasms
And depictions of their victims
Luna passes a sculpture that appears to be broken
It’s a gryphon, but the head is missing
Then she looks closer at it, and you see the detail in its severed stump of a neck
The shredded flesh and protruding vertebra depicted in stone look as though they would’ve been cut with a dull saw
This was made by someone who was looking at the real thing
They proceed cautiously, but it seems there’s no need
The stairs go up and up, and the higher they ascend, the quieter it gets
No screeches or skittering from the shadows
All is silent
Except for that tapping
Tap
Tap
Clink
It speeds up and slows down seemingly at random, filling the dark passage with an echoing staccato
Luna’s ears twitch as they draw nearer to the source
Her tail flicks back and forth
Celestia’s expression is blank, stony, and very familiar
That’s the face you know
As they continue up a number of steps that the perceived size of this fortress simply does not warrant, the tapping becomes more and more even
Rhythmic
Tap
Tap
Clink
Tap
Tap
Clink
Then, suddenly – yet quietly and gently – a voice joins it, melodious and ethereal as it reverberates through the empty halls, accompanied only by the tapping and the soft, green glow of the tendrils that snake through the walls
“Rest my child, upon a bed”
“Of dust and stars, lay down your head”
Both sisters stop dead in their tracks
“The sun and moon will always rise”
“I know this as you know my eyes”
Celestia’s breath catches in her throat
Luna’s eyes are wide and shimmering
“Rest now”
“Rest now”
“I’ll give you all the best now”
“Rest now”
“Rest now”
“In crimson light caressed now”
The lyrics dissolve into humming that follows the same tune
They don’t quite look at each other
Their faces remain fixed in the direction of the song
But their eyes dart sideways, and you can tell they’re sharing some sort of psychic exchange
Celestia mutters something that you can’t hear, and they continue on, gaits still cautious but now much more hurried
They’re forced into a sharp turn as the stairs end and the passage leads to a room in what must be the highest spire of this keep
That climb was not nearly enough to wind two alicorn demigoddesses
The way they’re panting must mean this place is impossibly hot
Their mouths hang open and their eyes water
Everywhere else you’ve seen has had those green veins creeping through the walls
But here, they are the walls
Thick, glowing, organic trunks of some material halfway between flesh and wood
They pulse and roil like upset intestines
And all around the circular room are sculptures
In the center of it is the source of the tapping
And the song
A great mare rears toward the ceiling, many yards tall, her mane flowing behind her with impossible length
Her eyes sparkle like gems, as do the red stars in her mane
But she doesn’t move
That great mane doesn’t billow
Judging by the state of the two daughters, if it was real, it would be wet and sticking to her back
That is, if hair made of dust and stars could do so
Her left foreleg is unfinished, still embedded in unshaped stone
But it is slowly being freed by that rhythmic annoyance
Tap
Tap
Clink
Because at her base – diligently working with a hammer and chisel – stands a thing, and that thing’s ears twitch and turn backward as it sets down those tools with a pair of appendages quite rare on this earth
Hands
Hands with the longest, thinnest fingers you’ve ever seen
The sisters’ probing expressions tell you that they have no more idea what it is than you do, but that it certainly isn’t whatever they expected
Four hooves clack gently on the floor as it turns around, and after a moment, you see its face
You want to ask Luna what in god’s name this thing is, but you don’t
The, large, bright-gold eyes are flecked with the same green that permeates this place
There is black where white should be, so all but the shimmering irises nearly blend in with changeling skin
They stare down a gently-pointed equine muzzle
Their lids blink inquisitively, batting long lashes
With a skeletal index finger almost the length of your arm, the creature brushes aside a lock of lavender-purple hair as it examines the intruders
The texture of its nearly floor-length mane is unsettlingly reminiscent of the present-day sisters
But instead of billowing, it climbs
Spidery curls crawl up its cloudy expanse, dissipating at the top
The thing cocks its head to the side and squints, as though peering through a haze
One eyebrow arches up toward its jagged horn
Then it speaks
“Is it really you?”
The multitonal whisper is delivered between two long fangs that resemble most changelings’, but a bit more delicate
“How do you know that rhyme?” Celestia demands, ignoring the question
The creature clasps its hands together, and all the macabre beauty of its face is split apart at the middle by a hideous smile
The wide grin stretches from ear to pointy, elfin ear, revealing many dagger-like teeth, green either by design or age
It doesn’t matter which; the effect is the same regardless
But despite how ugly it is, there is joy in it
“Oh, it is you,” she says, ignoring the alicorn’s words in turn
Her voice is deep and melodious with flamboyant affectation
“Welcome to my humble home, my dearest sisters!”
“What a joyous reunion this is!”
She spreads her arms wide and walks toward them on four hooved legs attached to what resembles the abdomen of a praying mantis with an almost human-like torso at its front
The way she sways her body back and forth makes your skin crawl
She receives her response in the form of Celestia’s blade pointed at her nose and murderous stares from both her “guests”
“I don’t know what kind of twisted dementia rots your mind,” the sun mare snarls, “but you are no sister of mine”
“Indeed,” Luna assents
The changeling’s head lolls to the side, her grin growing wider as a high-pitched titter escapes her throat
She waves a limp-wristed hand at Celestia as though she’d just told a terrible joke
“Oh, you’re just like her – so serious, so emotional”
“You even look the same”
“But so tiny”
She’s a full head taller than the eldest alicorn, and towers over the youngest
“And you must be Selena,” she simpers, ignoring the weapon shoved in her face and bending down to address the latter
“Are you old enough to talk yet?”
Luna’s eyes blaze with the fury of however many moons equal a thousand suns
“If you speak to me like that again,” she says slowly, “I will wear your face as a sleep mask”
“Only kidding, only kidding,” the changeling assures with another high-pitched laugh
She turns around without the slightest hint of trepidation and walks lazily back in the direction of her statue
“When you’re as old as I am, everyone just seems so young”
She shouts the last two words fervidly, her arms spread wide, gaze toward the ceiling
“Do not talk to us as if you know us, you hideous freak,” Celestia spits
The creature pauses mid-step and straightens her back
“Hideous freak?” she wonders
Though she’s turned away, you can see she’s tapping her chin
Then she looks back over her shoulder, like you or anyone might
But her head keeps turning
Luna swallows hard and Celestia takes a small step back
The changeling’s head completes a full about face, her visage still split by that jagged, green smile
“Now, now,” she titters, “if I were a hideous freak, could I do this?”
When she sees the revulsion on their faces, her head whips around into its correct position and she throws it back in a long, hearty cackle
She turns her outlandish body around properly, wiping a mirthful tear from an eye with a spindly finger
“I’m just joking,” she explains, “I can’t actually do that”
“But if you wish to call me names, you might as well call me the right one, so – since you don’t seem to know me as I know you – why don’t we start this glorious occasion with an introduction”
She places a hand to her chest, and bows her head while maintaining eye contact
“I am Lucilla”
“Lucilla Aphelia”
She genuflects enthusiastically with a manual flourish, touching one knee to the floor and holding the position for a long moment
“And,” she continues, “I am delighted to finally speak to you”
“I came here to slay you, not converse with you,” the sun mare growls, baring her teeth
“Well,” Lucilla chuckles, standing back up and whipping her head to the side to produce a loud, wet crack, “congratulations on thus far accomplishing the precise opposite of your goal”
Despite her words, you can see Celestia rapidly losing her conviction
Though she still holds her halberd close, this strange creature has disarmed her in a different way, tempering her wrath with curiosity and something else you can’t quite make out yet
“What are you?” she asks, her tone still commanding but touched by a genuine need to know
Luna just stares
“I,” Lucilla says, the single syllable spoken with the haughtiest pride, “am the reason that you are not the hideous freaks”
Her eyebrows arch, smile as disconcerting as the finger she points at them is damning
Celestia is incensed
“Do not play cryptic with me,” she shouts, rising to her full height as her eyes begin to glow
“I am Celestia Astra, first daughter of my namesake second, and I will not be toyed with by the likes of you, wretch”
She’s levitating a few inches off the ground, and a violent wind whips through the windowless room
The green light that pulses through the walls flickers
Lucilla yawns and brushes a strand of hair off her face
Every so often, one of the curls that crawl up her mane doesn’t dissipate, choosing instead to hang around her horn and over her eyes
“Please, my dear,” she entreats with another lazy wave of her long fingers, “don’t sully our first meeting with such egotistical ramblings”
For the first time since you’ve seen her, she frowns
That wide mouth turns down and pulls her entire face with it, revealing green veins around the edges of her eyes
Her brow furrows and her slitted pupils contract in a menacing expression of impatience
“And if you really think you are the first daughter of the goddess,” she snaps, stretching her neck toward them, “then you have been woefully mislead”
Celestia is angry
Luna is not
Her one forehoof hovers in the air, quivering at the ready
But whether it’s ready to charge or turn tail and run, she can’t seem to figure out
Yet just as quickly as it came, the menace in Lucilla’s expression and posture disappears
Her mouth arcs back upwards into that Cheshire smile
“I want to show you something,” she grins, rubbing her hands together
“So you can see what we are”
She turns and walks around the nearly-finished sculpture, beckoning with a finger
It’s not far, but the warm, wet haze that hangs about the room swallows her as she rounds the great chunk of stone
After a glance and another inaudible back-and-forth, the sisters follow very, very slowly
The glowing green grotto is steeped in misty heat, but it has a quality you’re very familiar with
It looks lived-in, and you feel a sudden onset of unexpected emotion
Luna’s quarters – your living space – is always being cleaned by servants
Everything has its proper place, and whenever you leave and return, order has always been restored
But that isn’t the case here
The floor is an uneven carpet of dust and rocks from what you figure must be years of stonecrafting that number in the hundreds
If not the thousands
All around sit unfinished works
A few tables – strewn with personal possessions and arranged with no thought for order – stand against the walls
One is made of wrought iron, but another just a few feet away from it is made of wood, and it reminds you of the heavy desk you used to sit in front of every night in your past life
There is one spot on the wall where the green tendrils abate, revealing stone
There are shelves carved into it, housing a modest collection of books
Or at least it’s modest by today’s standards
For its time, it’s probably the equivalent of a library
There are tools everywhere
Picks, chisels, and hammers litter the place, some bearing the scarred shine of recent use, others rusted to hell and likely untouched for centuries
However alien, it feels reminiscent of Twilight’s castle or your old apartment, and you feel both guilt and disdain at the wistfulness that wells within you
Whatever else it might be, this is a home
The alicorns examine it warily
Their heads remain pointed toward their “host,” but their eyes sweep in wide arcs, taking in the organized chaos
Nonchalant and unbothered as ever, Lucilla leads them to a particular corner which bears a shroud of dusty disuse impressive even for this place
In it stands an object just slightly taller than herself, covered by a large, ragged cloth
“Tell me, young Astra,” her raspy voice prompts, shattering the silence
“Have you ever wondered why you’re so perfect?”
Celestia’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t speak
“I’ve been making sculptures for longer than you’ve been alive,” the changeling explains
“Many of my old works are lost or turned to dust”
“But I’ve always kept this one”
With a sharp pull, she whisks away the cloth to reveal the thing underneath
“It’s my self-portrait,” she beams
Past Luna peers at it intently, scrunching up her nose
Her sister only glares
The statue is coarse and bulky, sharing none of the others’ detail and polish
But its shape is familiar
A small, rough-cut prototype of the enormous mare in the center of the room
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” the night mare wonders, her brow creased and her mouth turned down
“The portrait,” Lucilla explains primly, strolling around the thing with an examining eye, “lies in the concept, not the subject”
“I am getting very tired of exchanging pleasantries,” Celestia growls
“Oh please, my dear,” the changeling titters with a wave of her spindly fingers
“If these are ‘pleasantries,’ then why are you being so thoroughly unpleasant?”
She snaps the last word, jerking her head toward the alicorn, whose blade rises threateningly
She pays it no mind, sinking back into her lazy drawl as she completes her circle of the statue and stands next to it
“You both know what it’s like to hone a skill, yes?” she wonders, but it’s not a question
One finger traces over the rough – sometimes jagged – edges of her work, and a far-off expression crosses her face as she continues
“To achieve perfection, we must fail many times, mustn’t we?”
Her eyes look beyond the pulsing, green coils of the walls
“This was the tenth sculpture I ever endeavored to carve”
“I wasn’t skilled, but I had just enough experience that some boldness had crept into me, and I wanted to try something just a little more grand, even if it might not work out”
“I mean, one doesn’t create something like that,” she points to the unfinished – but thus far immaculate – statue that towers in the center of the floor, “or like you,” she turns her gaze on Celestia, “without leaving a wake of imperfect attempts”
“By necessity, you never met her”
“But you must know, because you are her”
“You hear the echoes of her being”
“Like a lullaby”
“And they tell you”
Luna’s eyes are full of hungry curiosity, and the last of Celestia’s aggression is holding at a slow boil
Seeing their eagerness, the queen splutters and covers her mouth with a hand, waving the other one at them manically
“Oh! Oh! Go ahead!” she giggles
“You simply must’ve figured it out by now!”
“I don’t play guessing games,” the sun mare says icily
Lucilla’s fingers are long enough so that even when she clasps them together at her chest, one can still reach up to tap her chin
“You know, Celestia Astra, I was going to say that you’re not nearly as empathetic as I imagined you”
“But who am I to talk?”
“Anywho, we could talk about this disaster” – she gestures toward her experiment of a body – “all night – or at least I could”
She pauses to cackle, and while it sounds cracked, you can’t help but notice that it isn’t bitter
“But the big mistake here lies under the surface,” she explains, wiping away a tear
“The Evermare had so much love”
“She had so much to give, and there was no one to receive”
“Not without going mad or being vaporized, or both”
“So she made me”
“And believe me, I can take it”
“More than that”
“I need it”
“But something just wasn’t quite right”
“I was made to take, take, take”
“To always be hungry, so that I would always need her”
“But this thing that I need…”
“Well, that’s all it is – something I need”
“She forgot to tell me how to give it back”
“She created a thing that wanted love, and that’s it”
“It doesn’t change me like it does the rest of you, but my goodness, do I want it”
“I need oodles of it just to maintain my sanity, which – let’s be honest – is something of a cosmic in-joke,” she titters, flicking her wrist
“‘Oh, that Lucilla,’ they say”
“‘Fighting to keep something she never had in the first place’”
“I’ve lost my mind, sister”
“And every time I get close to holding it down and forcing it back into its place”
“I realize it never had a place to begin with”
“Because I am this”
She rests her hands on the roughly-hewn statue of the world’s creator and closes her eyes
As though touching it soothes her
“A necessary failure on the road to perfection”
Luna’s eyes are wet, and you don’t have to wonder why
You’ve spent enough long, tearful nights with her to know that she believes herself to be something similar
The penultimate attempt
The very failure that enabled her corresponding success
The part that was left over
But the ultimate is having none of this
The great, white mare rises to her full height, and the tears that stream from her eyes do not fall for any present
“I’ve been waiting on you for aeons,” Lucilla continues after a moment
“Because you made me”
“And I believe you can fix me”
“What did you do?” Celestia hisses, her entire being trembling from words to hooves
“What is this place?”
“You are so beloved, young Astra,” the changeling whispers, ignoring the questions
“Look at you”
Her voice is breathy and reverent as she waves a hand across beautifully-fashioned form in front of her
Your parsing of the scene gives you pause as the realization that’s slowly been ascending the sublevels of your consciousness finally reaches its destination – something you’ve always know, but never really thought about
Celestia and Luna were not born
They were crafted
For various reasons
“Wearing golden armor and bringing righteousness wherever you walk”
“Scouring this fledgling world for hurts to assuage”
Those long fingers ball up into fists as best as they can
“Even if you weren’t creation’s darling, you would still have her”
One of them breaks formation to point at Luna
“To adore you every second of every day”
“You don’t know what it’s like to be cast aside”
“You don’t know what it’s like to starve”
“What have you done?” Celestia demands again
“I did what I needed to,” Lucilla spits, but her indignation is not the product of painful memories
You get the feeling she’s only angry because she doesn’t understand why her sister is angry
“You tortured and murdered people – families – for no reason,” the alicorn fumes, her chest heaving
“You don’t understand,” the changeling says, hands out and palms up as if she’s physically presenting her explanation
“I was left alone,” she reiterates
“Alone, confused, and so very, very hungry”
“Mother succeeded in creating something that she couldn’t hurt”
“Something that could withstand her presence”
“The irony was that she couldn’t stand mine”
“That I hurt her”
“Suddenly, I had only myself to rely on, so I took what I needed from this world”
“Cruelty holds no intrinsic value for me; I’m not some fetishist who touches herself to the sight of blood or the sound of screams”
“But love is a tricky thing”
“It’s hard to get, and even harder to understand”
“Occasionally, what I see makes perfect sense, yet other times it seems like a form of insanity that makes my own deficiencies look like a head cold”
She taps her chin, eyes on the ceiling for a moment before she continues
“When I was young, thin, and more inclined to wander, I once broke into the hut of a zebra to escape a cold night”
“He was a healthy specimen, and he tried to fight for his land and possessions, but even that smaller and scrawnier me was stronger than he, and he fled”
“Then,” she counters herself with a different inflection, leaning thoughtfully on the figure of her mother, “not too long after, I did the same to the burrow of a diamond dog”
“It was filthy and hardly warmer than the outside, but it was all I could find”
“She was no bigger than a zebra, and I was even a bit older and stronger”
“Yet that night it was I who fled bleeding into the cold”
“So, what was the difference?”
“The stallion lived alone”
“But the bitch”
“She had two pups huddled against her in that hovel”
“And for a long time after that, I thought I understood what love was for”
“Until I came to this place”
With a flourish, she opens her arms to indicate the citadel as she continues to stalk around the coarse rendition of her maker
As her circle passes close to the crawling organic glow of the walls, the sickly light briefly illuminates a hide crisscrossed by a chaotic lattice of scars
“I honestly don’t know where it came from or who made it,” she admits
“The construction outclasses most of what the young world had to offer
“But whatever luck delivered such a secure and secluded structure to the griffons who lived here when I found it – cousins of the fishers from the coast – finally ran out with my arrival”
“They’d been living in this valley for generations, and it gave them everything they could possibly want”
“Rabbits and mice in the forests, fish in the river, and green grass all around”
“I doubt trouble found them often, but when it did, they retreated from their nests into this fortress”
“I know this because they did so when I decided to make this land my permanent home”
“By then, I was no longer that malformed nymph who famished in the darkness and shivered in the cold”
“I was more than I am now”
“My body was lean and hard from a wandering the world, my army of progenies prodigious”
She flexes a spindly, humanoid arm, and you realize just how menacing her tall, wiry frame would be with some muscle and youthful vigor
“They didn’t stand a shadow of a chance, but they all died”
“Every last one”
“Even though they didn’t need to”
“No,” Celestia breathes
“They didn’t”
“But that didn’t stop you, did it?”
A sudden bark of laughter escapes Lucilla’s throat
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” she chuckles, wagging her finger at the alicorn
“I’m saying that most of them could’ve escaped”
“At least back then, when I hadn’t given as much thought to sustainable food sources”
“But they laid down their lives to the last protecting the young, the old, and the sick”
“All the ones who couldn’t flee”
“The ones that don’t matter”
“And it made me realize I truly knew nothing about love”
“Up until then it seemed so simple to me”
“I thought it was a weapon that could be used to win fights”
“A powerful stimulant that turns the weak into the strong”
“But that night”
“It seemed like nothing more than a tax levied on the strong by the weak”
She shrugs with an offhand smile
“I just don’t get it”
“That’s because you’re completely insane,” Celestia explains with a narrow-eyed hiss
“Funny,” the changeling grins, examining her claw-like fingernails
“That’s exactly what I thought about them, and what I think about all of you”
“But”
She whips her hand around, raising an index finger
“I was not so blind as to overlook the truth that night presented me”
“That love – this thing that I need – blossoms with suffering”
“Its true power doesn’t manifest until it is put through trials”
“You withstand so much pain for your cherished ones, and that strength is my nourishment”
“That potency is an adequate substitute for the affections of a goddess”
“And there comes a point when…”
Her eyes are slits as she tilts her head, fingers curling as though grasping at her own thoughts
“When that reflexive struggle for self-preservation finally fades away in a quiet decrescendo”
“And you want to die, but you still do not seek death”
“You still fight”
“Because of the love”
“Because you endure for those dearest few”
“And that”
A shudder that very well may be an orgasm worms its way from her shoulders all the way down to her ethereal tail
“Is when the love becomes perfect, and most delectable”
“You’re mad!”
The young, pink-haired Celestia screams this declaration raggedly into the darkness
“Don’t you see?” Lucilla wonders, spreading her arms
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you”
“I’ve been waiting all my life for you to fix me”
There is an explosion of light
