A New Age

by SaddlesoapOpera

Rating: teen
Tags: King Sombra, Starswirl the Bearded, Discord, Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Princess Luna, Drama
Length: 14838

Long, long ago, the Royal Pony Sisters Celestia and Luna defeated Discord, and almost everypony was relieved. Almost everypony.

In the closing days of the Pre-Classical Era, at the dawn of the rule of the Royal Pony Sisters, the devastation of Discord’s cruelty hits hard and leaves an open wound. As the young and inexperienced Princesses Celestia and Luna struggle to keep the peace, powerful figures in all three Pony tribes bridle at the upstart Alicorns who so quickly and easily claimed power...

Fic reading with soundtrack can be found here!

Published 2016-03-29 04:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-10-04 16:46:15 UTC

Two Years Before Discord

The diary of Glory, Young Lady of House Galaxy

I am betrayed.

Betrayed and robbed and cheated. My own Uncle, the mightiest magus of our family of illustrious magic-users, has abolished the task I was born to perform. Neigh, not even abolished, but stolen it away from all of us. Given it over to those two creatures. I am beside myself, Diary!

Not only did he cast me aside and take that half-blood commoner as his apprentice … not only did she use what he’d taught her to get close to Princess Platinum and become a heroine of our new homeland in my stead … but now, my very birthright is lost forever!

Service on the Councils of Dawn and Dusk was my life’s goal, my very Mark’s desire! But the Councils are abolished and King Bullion is standing aside and leaving more and more power to these Alicorns—and they aren’t even noble born! Not truly! Nopony even seems to know from whence they hail. Ancients who lived atop Canterlot Mountain before the capital was founded, the rumours say. Last of the former ruling tribe of this land my kinfolk settled, they say.

Has any King, in all of the history of Ponykind, ever surrendered his crown on the strength of rumours? Preposterous!

But now they herd the Sun and Moon like the highest of the high, and oversee processions, and they are sought in affairs of state, and all three of the tribes answer to them. Madness. They can scarcely be older than I am, even. The elder can’t have seen twenty winters! Again, the rumours. They say they do not age as we do. They say their magic keeps the years from touching them. And yet my Uncle’s beard greys, and grows to touch his fetlocks, and his magic, so vast that he can trot through time itself, has yet to spare him a single tolling of the hours. Curious, is it not?

Ah, my Uncle … he has wounded me so, Diary! What did I do to deserve these shames? Is my hide not as pure white as Celestia’s? Is my silken mane not as royal purple as Luna’s? And damn it all, is my magic not more than a match for that conniving little upstart? Even her name is common! Clover. Named for a plant, like some pointless farm-girl!

Please excuse my language, Diary. That was improper. I trust you can see how unfair and unjust are these trials I endure. Strange creatures have claimed my calling, a commoner has usurped my birthright, and now statues hail their greatness while I make do with mere portraits.

I must close for now. Reliving these ordeals has made me terribly upset. I shall have the maids run a bath, I think.

With my ill luck, we’ll have run out of rose essence.

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from Praetor Northwind to Commander Hurricane

Hail, old friend.

I must confess I am uneasy about the recent shift in the winds. It made sense to have an impartial presence act as oversight in diplomacy between the tribes, considering the arrogance of the Unicorns and the Earth Ponies’ distaste for warfare, but is putting so much power under the control of just two mares tactically sound? Particularly, those two mares?

We are no strangers to the rosy clouds of war, you and I — we both remember the sting of Griffon talons and the hum of their shrieks on the wind. Gregor is a glutton and a warmonger, and no treaty with him will last.

The Sisters are naive and unblooded. They fly swiftly and they are beautiful. That makes them good. It does not make them leaders. Harmony and friendship are for comrades and mates, blooded and blood.

Not foes.

Will we let the Ice Demons who drove us from the skies of the old homeland chill the lightning of battle in our hearts as well? How long will this age of peace last, if we appear weak and foalish to our enemies? You have seen the reports from the scouts. You know what mighty beasts stalk the earth and skies and seas in this new land. You know we are not safe.

It is folly to leave our rulership, our future, our very dawn and dusk, to the jurisdiction of any two Ponies, no matter how perfect their forms. Unicorn councils find reason through debate. Our foremost are appointed by the Senate. Even the Earth Ponies below come to decisions by the common will. We cannot trust two mares to match the wisdom of dozens. Of hundreds.

After the Hearth’s Warming, you have the Unicorn Princess’s ear, do you not? I pray you, old friend — speak to her. I would know if the Unicorns share these worries.

Fly well, old friend.

Northwind

• • • • •

Lady Brome’s Book of Gratitudes

O Dam of my Dam, O High-Kicking Filly, I thank You.

I thank You for the lands I am sworn to tend, gifted with healthy crops and moist black soil.

I thank You for my mate, Hawthorne, and for the blessed life we shared until he returned to Your embrace.

I thank You for our only foal, Sweetgrass, who warms my heart with her every smile, and who keeps the love of Hawthorne ever blooming in my soul.

O Dam of my Dam, O Heavy-Bellied Mare, I thank You.

I thank You for showing Your faithful herd to this fertile land, and guiding its heroes to defeat the demons of ice and wind.

I thank You for my keen wits and the wisdom of years, that I am not blindly swayed as others are by the shallow perfection of the Blasphemers who would take the work of many as their own, and who would profane Your sacred Everfree Forest with their garish castle.

I thank You for my strength, that I might keep the old ways holy, and resist the temptations of their witching words.

O Dam of my Dam, O Wise-Eyed Nag, I thank You.

• • • • •

Clover the Clever’s laboratory notes, supplemental

Every day, I find a new reason to be amazed with my mentor.

His talent in supporting the councils until the Sisters could take their place, the sheer size of his library, even the bells covering his vestments, each one added for a spell he helped design. All of it speaks of his incredible magical skill.

And today, he finally trusted me enough to show me the fundamentals of his research into time-travel!

I can hardly hold my quill steady, I’m so excited — my magic’s wavering like a schoolfoal’s!

He held back the most sensitive scrolls, but even the basics have my head spinning. Time is like a flowing river, not a woven cord. It is always in motion, always shaping and reshaping itself, yet always seeking the smoothest path. And when something obstructs it, it seeks to part and reform around it and return to its course.

The current analogy holds water, excuse the pun, in other ways, as well — visiting the past, moving upstream, is clearly far more difficult than leaping into the future. But Star Swirl told me over and over that both directions hold many dangers. A Pony could erase their own past, or unleash a horror once thought defeated, or unravel the future by acting on foreknowledge of it!

Appended to this note are the diagrams of the basic slowing and hastening spells, as well as the short-term jaunt. I believe I copied them perfectly, but I can’t know yet about the latter. The obverse-temporal aperture it opens can only be opened once, and I dare not try it on a whim.

N.B. — Find a chance to ask Star Swirl about his own trips to the future. He hasn’t been the same since he took them...

• • • • •

The Journal of the Two Sisters

Dear Diary,

I’ve never been so busy!

After dealing with Griffons and an elder Dragon and all the other crises, after Luna and I earned our Marks, I thought things would be smooth flying from here on. Equestria was peaceful, the Crystal Empire was safe, the morning and the night were taken care of — everything was fine, right?

Wrong!

Now that we’re officially the Royal Princesses of Equestria, there’s paperwork and meetings and audiences and processions and parades — and I’m still not sure how those last two are any different — and we’re so booked solid that I’ve hardly had time to eat, let alone relax! I had nothing but one cake for breakfast after raising the Sun, and it was only one layer thick. I’m STARVING!

Also, some of the new servants seem a little put off by the castle — especially the pranking equipment. And the size of our meals when there’s actually time. And how the doors and stairs are built to our size. And… well… also, Luna.

She’s played tricks on some of them, and her style and powerful magic seem to scare them a little. After Princess Platinum I thought we’d gotten past this, but she’s always been mischievous.

Luna, if you’re reading this, leave the poor dears alone, or you’re getting pranked right back, you hear me? You know I’ll do it!

Anyway, Diary, I’ve got to be going. I’m writing this while trotting to the next meeting. Only seven more to go before I can fit in a full meal. Maybe if everypony wasn’t so skittish around Luna, I’d have more time to—

That had better not be what’s going on. If she did that thing with the bucket to the arch-minister of finance just so she could slack off...!

It’s time for the meeting, Diary. We’ll see about this later.

• • • • •

The Journal of the Two Sisters

Dear Diary,

Being a Princess is really tiring!

Celie, if you’re reading this, don’t be cross — I’m not slacking, honestly! I’ve been flying all over Equestria lately, visiting towns and cities, meeting and greeting Ponies… all sorts of Princess-ly matters like that.

I know I don’t make as good a first impression as my Sister does, Diary, so I’ve been trying to make some friends. Introduce myself, break the ice with some good-natured pranks, get to know our subjects. But it hasn’t been — I mean, not entirely, but — well, it hasn’t been going all that great. I feel like a lot of the Ponies don’t fully trust us yet, even after all of our help. Especially me. I’m not TRYING to be scary, but I’m dark and powerful and so much bigger than they are. And sometimes when I get impatient I use the Royal Canterlot Voice, but we’re both so much louder than Unicorns are when we do it. I guess it’s a bit much for some of them.

Most of them.

Honestly, I’m not sure I’m any better off after all this. I can hear Ponies whispering behind my back sometimes. I can see them staring out of the corner of my eye. They’re afraid!

Celie, can you take care of the castle stuff for just a little longer? I know I can get through to them if I just try harder. As Princesses it’s our duty to guide and protect Equestria, right? Once I’ve made a few good friends, they can spread the word to others on their own, and I’ll have more time to attend parades and whatnot. There’s more to a Pony’s life than paperwork, after all!

Six Months Before Discord

Personal correspondence, from Glory of House Galaxy to Starbeam of House Galaxy

Dearest Mother,

I hope this letter finds you well, and I trust you will excuse my impertinence in delivering it via flame-sending, but this urgent matter can wait no longer.

Star Swirl, your brother, my uncle, persists in dragging our family name through the dirt again and again. As hard as I have tried to accept his decisions, this time he has gone too far. It makes no difference how respected and influential he is if he’s brushed us out of his life like tail-flicked flies!

I led every one of my classes in magical theory as a foal. Every private tutor you assigned me marvelled at my excellence, did they not? I am more than a match in beauty and grace, poise and polish, magical might and arcane education, for any half-blooded commoner, am I not?

Yet there strides your brother, my uncle, mightiest of our ancient and honourable House, using his personal share of our family fortune to endow a new wing of the library… and it is his plan to name it after Clover the Clever!

I know that construction has barely begun and it will be nigh on a year before the doors open, so it may come as a surprise that I possess such knowledge already. But I happen to have a copy of the plans, and the offending truth is right there in Star Swirl’s own hornwriting.

I shan’t befoul the dignity of our discussions with details about how I came to acquire a copy of the plans. Suffice it to say that it was done, and now the truth is revealed. Obviously you can see how untenable and impossible this situation is. He can’t do this to us! To his own House! Surely you can reason with him? You, and perhaps Aunt Starburst? He can’t sacrifice a huge measure of our wealth to her. He simply can’t! He can’t!

Mother, why does he hate me?

Glory

• • • • •

A missive from the Offices of Chancellor Puddinghead to Lady Brome of the Lowlands

Noble Lady Brome,

Please understand that the Chancellor and all who serve the Chancellor have the utmost respect for the Old Faith, and have no desire to see the ancient traditions of our tribe lie fallow. Your steadfast devotion is an inspiration.

Be that as it may, the Chancellor and all who serve the Chancellor, and every other Pony who calls Equestria home, owes fealty to the Crown — yourself included, Milady.

Your religious convictions do not rob you of the benefits of the Royal Sisters’ rule, nor do they excuse you from the accompanying obligations.

This is your final warning, Milady. Relinquish the taxes collected on your lands, and remit them forthwith to the Crown. If you continue to refuse to do so, the Chancellor will have no choice but to call for the Royal Guard to intervene in this matter and enforce said delivery.

Pay what you owe, and you will be free to continue to practice the Old Faith however you please.

• • • • •

Praetor Northwind’s memoirs

The winds above the Everfree Forest are willful tonight.

That ancient wood has always drawn the most temperamental gusts and stormy clouds. There is magic there as old as snow, and it is stirring these days.

Ponies are stirring as well.

We’ve been too long without a war. Too long offering our hooves to foes who know nothing of honour or justice. The weak grow soft, and the strong grow uneasy and tense.

It is a good death, the spear-sages say, to drag one’s foe down to the unforgiving ground at the moment of victory. To die knowing that a righteous cause has prevailed. They say that those who die of age or sickness have failed to hold out for the next red dawn. The next clash of blades.

I am not so sure, anymore — even with that growing tension.

My bones ache when I herd snow-clouds, and I tremble under the summer sun. My glories are behind me. My victories, hard-earned but mighty. I have built a legacy worthy of pride — have I not earned an easy and peaceful flight over the last horizon?

And yet, I fear I shall not die reclining on a cloud after all. The winds are willful. They whisper to themselves. Something comes. A dawn redder than any before.

I fear I’m no longer strong enough to overcome it alone, and I fear we’ve grown too weak for me to count any comrades among my kind.

For the first time in my long years, I fear.

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from Star Swirl the Bearded to Starburst of House Galaxy

Dear Sister,

Upon my name and my works, great things have been accomplished. The House has grown in power and influence.

With the profits from my arcane research, Equestria is a better place, and the House has grown in wealth and prestige.

I count among my discoveries more applications of spells and enchantments, more unique developments, than any other Magus, living or dead. The myriad bells upon my vestments grow nigh on too heavy to carry.

The mysteries of time itself, and all their terrific costs and wonders, are laid bare to me. The essence of Harmony itself lies ahead, ready to be unveiled.

And so, with the utmost respect and cordiality…

I will keep my own thrice-damned counsel on what I do with my own money, and on whether or not I lower myself to tutoring spoiled, ill-tempered and unruly brats.

Warmest wishes to you, our sister, and our esteemed Mother.

Star Swirl

• • • • •

The Journal of the Two Sisters

Dear Diary —

Nopony came!

I’ve tried so hard to be better, I’ve been polite and nice as much as I can, I’ve used the Royal Canterlot Voice at every official function, I’ve stopped pranking … I did everything Celie suggested! Everypony’s still scared of me, and nopony wants to stay up to spend time with me.

I planned this stargazing party for SO long. I got the stars lined up just so, and I practised my comet throwing for a whole month. There was tea and biscuits and night-blooms.

Nopony came.

I waited and waited, and then I went looking. They were all in their rooms, asleep already. And when I took a little peek at their dreams, I found out why:

They were all tired after a ball in Celestia’s honour!

Is this because of the thing with the bats? Are you punishing me, Sister? It isn’t fair! That didn’t count as a prank. That diplomat was being rude to me. He DESERVED it! It was… justice!

This party was really important to me, Celie. I wrote about it in our journal so many times. How could you?

You complain and complain about all of your functions and your formalities. You’re soooo busy being the Princess of the Day. But you never cancel anything, do you? You never leave anything for your dark, spooky Sister. No, you’re fine with me staying in the shadows, as long as I don’t EMBARRASS you!

Sometimes, I just wish, I wish I could—

Never mind. I just hope you read this soon, Sister, so you’ll know how mad I am.

Because I’m not speaking to you.

• • • • •

The Journal of the Two Sisters

~~Dear D~~

Dear Luna,

I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t even arrange that ball, it was a surprise party and the minister of agriculture planned it. I’m sorry your star party didn’t work out, but it was NOT my fault!

You’re always doing this — haring off without thinking, acting rashly, stirring up trouble — and then blaming everypony but yourself.

You said you wouldn’t spy on Ponies’ dreams when they aren’t in trouble, but you did! You said you weren’t going to prank anypony anymore, but you did! We’re too powerful and important now to keep acting like little fillies. Ponies aren’t scared of you because you’re the Princess of the Night. They’re scared of you because you’re still too reckless and emotional!

Maybe if you spent less time feeling sorry for yourself and more time helping out with all this Royal business, you’d understand that.

When you’re ready to speak to me, I’ll be spending most of my time in the throneroom…

Fulfilling my responsibilities.

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from a Secret Admirer to Princess Luna of Equestria

Your Beautiful and Powerful Majesty,

I apologize abjectly for my lateness to Your stargazing party last week.

By the time I arrived, it seemed everypony had already left, including Yourself. I deeply regret missing the opportunity to discuss the night and its mysteries with You — I have no fear of the shadows. Quite the opposite! Every night I await the artistry of Your starscapes, and You have yet to disappoint. With every glance upward, I feel like I am gazing into Your very heart, poured forth across the sky.

I am still staying in Canterlot for the next few days, negotiating official business with the Ponies who mine under the mountain. If You are willing, I would be eternally grateful if You gave me another chance to meet with You. Every night until my business is concluded, I shall await You in the statue garden. And if You cannot or deign not come, the silent beauty of Your night skies shall offer cold comfort to my longing heart.

Yours faithfully, ever hopeful to bask in Your presence,

A Kindred Spirit

Three Days After Discord

A Confession, by Lady Brome of the Lowlands

O Dam of my Dam, I beseech You, watch over my foal as she is returned to You.

I dare not ask for Your forgiveness. That I was weak, and fell under the sway of a Demon of Chaos, cannot excuse my sin. The cold waters of ignorance cannot wash the stains from my hooves.

My precious filly, my flesh and blood, now lies cradled under the gentle roots of a memorial tree alongside the dear stallion who sired her. O Dam of my Dam, I beg You, look upon Sweetgrass kindly.

She died pure, untouched by the Demon’s taint. She died innocent, faithful to Your ways and unsullied by the empty blandishments of the wicked Princesses.

I know I can never be with Sweetgrass and Hawthorne now. I know there can be no redemption for me. The Demon, Discord, led me into damnation. I was weak, and my foal paid for my weakness with her life.

My shame is too great to bear. I can never return to Your embrace. No tree will mark the place where my bleached bones lie. I accept my fate.

I leave my lands and title behind. There is nothing for me here. The fertile fields are as barren wastes. The sweet waters are as bitter ash.

I will go into exile in the ancient way, as the worst blasphemers and criminals have. I will walk without pause, neither eating nor drinking, hobbled against galloping and blind to all danger, until my strength fails and the denizens of the dark places take me. I deserve no kinder fate after what I have done.

O Dam of my Dam, You know Sweetgrass’s heart. You know she did not mean the words I made her say in her final moments.

From the bottom of my defiled and unworthy soul, I beg You — mete out Your wrath upon me alone, and spare my precious foal.

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from Star Swirl the Bearded to Starbeam of House Galaxy

Dear Sister,

I will not be attending the library wing’s opening. Nor the soiree afterward. This is not the time for empty pleasantries. Foalish distractions already slowed me enough that I failed to stop what transpired. If I’d had more time, perhaps I could have been more help in halting Discord’s reign of terror. Perhaps I could have—

Attending would only remind me of it, in the most painful of ways. I will brook no further interruptions, now or in the future.

The cost is more than I can bear.

If this event holds meaning for you, then by all means attend in my place. ~~See to it that~~

~~Ensure~~

~~She would have~~

Please, Star. If our shared blood holds any sway, make sure it all goes well. I deserve that much, at least.

And so did she.

Star Swirl

• • • • •

Praetor Northwind’s memoirs

I came across a dying mare today.

I nearly missed her, with her grassy mane and earthen hide. She lay on the side of a lonely road, with hobbles biting her fetlocks and blinders crowning her tangled locks.

At first I took her for yet another of the Demon’s victims, so haggard and gaunt was she. But as I approached to pray and prepare a storm-pyre, she stirred slightly. Nopony ought to have survived in such a state. The vitality of the Earth Ponies blesses and curses them. They endure and suffer, where my kind or Unicorns would know a clean death.

Seeing that life still feebly clung to her bones, I gathered her up and took flight. She was as light and brittle as an icicle. I brought her closer to my estate and found an empty visitor-cave for her on the tallest peak below.

When offered a rain-cloud to suckle, she made feeble struggles. By and by she relented and drank deeply. I sent for salted honey and boiled hay, and the mare ate with the same reluctance.

She once more lay like a corpse as her wounds were washed and tended to. She offered no words of thanks, nor shared her name when I offered mine. But no matter. Her eyes told her tale well enough.

I have seen such eyes far too often, these past few days. They stare at nothing, as cold as raindrops. The mare had faced horrors beyond reckoning. She had suffered a thousand times the pain her injuries carry. I was quite sure of it then, but when slumber claimed her, I knew beyond doubt.

Her screams echoed all the way to the city above.

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from Starbeam of House Galaxy to Star Swirl the Bearded

Dear Brother,

Please, don’t worry. After the tragedies that have befallen Ponykind in general and yourself in particular in the past while, some small levity and celebration will be a great comfort to the masses.

Rest. Mourn for your apprentice. And research as you see fit. When the time comes, I will see to the opening and the accompanying entanglements. It is no bother at all.

It was truly a miracle that the new wing survived the disasters unleashed by the Draconequus at all. It is now a fitting monument to the fortitude and the wisdom of all Ponies in the face of horror and chaos.

By all means, Swirl — rest. I will take care of everything.

I promise.

Starbeam

• • • • •

The private journal of Princess Celestia

I’m worried about Luna.

I feel guilty about writing these thoughts where she won’t see them, but I think telling her would only make things worse. We really made progress in the hunt for the Tree. Gathering the Elements of Harmony and passing their tests helped me understand her a little better.

It wasn’t all good, though, of course. We both saw things nopony ever should.

Discord hurt so many Ponies. I’ll never forget seeing the light just… just flicker out of Clover’s eyes when he snapped his claws, nor hearing Star Swirl cry when she fell. There are so many lost, and so many crippled by those losses. Every day when I raise the Sun, It’s like I’m fighting the gloom inside each and every Pony.

Am I selfish for focusing on my own Sister, when so many others are hurt? We beat Discord. Now the public looks to us to help them heal. They need us now, more than ever.

Is it selfish to be concerned that Luna has changed? Does it make me a bad ruler that my worries about her take up more of my thoughts than the reconstruction efforts?

We almost lost everything. Ponies are dead, and dying, and mourning. The survivors want answers, and I don’t know if I have them.

How can Luna be so happy?

• • • • •

Starbeam of House Galaxy's notes for the library wing opening address

Fillies and gentlecolts, it is with a heavy heart that I stand before you now on this grand occasion. After the tragedies and disasters we have endured, some may find it inappropriate to celebrate.

I must disagree.

Now, more than ever, we must concentrate of what has made our society great. On our most illustrious achievements. On the legacies we leave to generations yet to come. Now, in these sad times, we must cleave to all sources of solace and inspiration.

(Pause for emphasis)

In troubled days, when chaos threatens all we have built, the best among us rise to the occasion and display the virtue, ingenuity, courage, and dedication that are the true strength of Ponykind.

(Approach the archway, pick up scissors)

With that in mind, it is my profound honour to preside over the opening of the newest addition to the largest archive of magical lore in the known world, named for one of the most important figures in the study and practice of magic.

Please join me in celebrating the opening of... the Star Swirl the Bearded Wing!

(Cut ribbon, start round of applause)

One Month After Discord

A testament by Brome the Exile

The fortitude and mercy and wisdom of the Thrice-Blessed Mare are beyond measure. In my grief I lost sight of that.

I made penance in my exile. I was contrite. I suffered for my crime. But it is not Her will that I die. Not yet. I see that now. Even as I walked until the hobbles cut my fetlocks, even as hunger and thirst maddened me, I strode in Her guiding hoofprints.

Her will has brought me to an unlikely ally: an elder Pegasus, scarred by warfare, who found me before the wild beasts could and who saw me nursed back to health. He often visited and spoke to me while I recovered, and though I did not reply, he told me much.

He does not trust the Blasphemers, even though he does not cleave to the Old Faith, and even though they defeated the Demon of Chaos. When he explained how the battle was won, I realized why the Thrice-Blessed Mare spared me and led me to him.

Not content to merely defile the sacred woods with their castle, the unholy Alicorns have now plundered the most sacred relics of all. They tore the Elements of Harmony from their eternal home in the World-Tree like so much harvested fruit!

I see now, O Dam of my Dam. I see why You have shown mercy on this unworthy soul. You have given me a new purpose. I am to see the Blasphemers brought down. It shall be so.

I will find like-minded allies. We will walk the path You have set. We will see Celestia and Luna punished for their sacrilege.

O Dam of my Dam, O Thrice-Blessed Mare… Your will be done.

• • • • •

The secret diary of Princess Luna

I’m in love!

What better way to begin a secret diary than a juicy confession?

Ever since Celie and I took the thrones, everything’s been about her. All the parades and processions, all the meetings and affairs of state. She keeps saying she isn’t trying to push me into the shade, but that’s hard to believe when the Sun itself bends to her whims.

Well, now things are different. Now I have something all my own. Just for me.

Somepony to share my night skies with. Somepony who understands me. A companion in the dark.

I see him whenever I can. As soon as the Moon’s risen, I hit the sky like an arrow and soar to his palace in the North as quick as my magic and my wings can carry me. I stay until it’s nearly dawn, and then I race back in time to drop the Moon. It’s exhausting, but it’s so worth it.

We talk for hours and hours, about the night and about magic and about me. He wants to hear everything about me. Everything. He isn’t afraid of Alicorns.

It feels so good to have somepony listen at last. To have somepony understand.

I’m in love with him, diary! I’ve never felt this way before. He’s the one, I know it. Oh, and one more thing — even if Celie finds out, she won’t be able to raise a fuss. You see...

He’s a King!

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from Calyx of the Hills to Star Swirl the Bearded

Dear Star Swirl,

I wanted to write and thank you for coming to Clover’s seedling ceremony. I know Unicorns don’t ken Earth Pony ways by and large, but her Daddy does. And so do you. You always did right by my little filly. You taught her what Moonstone couldn’t, what with his mining work keeping him so pressed. You helped her be a great wizard, and she and her friends kept these lands safe and sound from the Windigos.

I’m sure most of the wizarding folk wanted her to have a big tomb with a statue. I’m glad they didn’t do that. That’s no way to spend forever, hidden away in cold stone. I’m glad they let us give her back to the good earth, and give her a memorial tree. It’s what she would have wanted.

The way you talked at the ceremony, I reckon you blame yourself for what that monster did. If that’s so, you mustn’t. You can’t spare everypony from everything. There’ll always be cruel and dangerous things. What matters is how you face them, and how you weather them — bending like a reed, or snapping like a twig… or standing tall like a redwood.

Thanks to your teaching, my little filly met her end bravely, on her own four hooves, standing up to a powerful wrong. There’re many folks under trees now who can’t say the same.

Also, I’m sending back what you gave us. We don’t need it. We’d been saving up for ~~when Clover~~ a rainy day. We have enough to get by. Just take care of yourself, Star Swirl, you hear?

I’ve a mind that you don’t do that near enough.

Calyx

• • • • •

The diary of Glory, Young Lady of House Galaxy

I apologize for my long absence, Diary, but things have been in a terrible state of late for Canterlot, with all sorts of dreary funerals and memorials and wakes and such. I’ve had to have three extra sombre dresses made, and my favourite seamstress was turned into a collection of spools of brightly coloured thread! It’s been a frightful strain.

Other than that, though, I suppose it hasn’t been all that bad.

Everypony who matters in my life was spared the worst of Discord’s depredations. Mother, Father, Auntie, Grandmare, Uncle Star Swirl. And although it’s unseemly and ill-fated to gloat over another’s downfall, I should point out that the Demon even saw fit to murder Clover the Clever. He slew Star Swirl’s precious apprentice as easily as I’d snuff a candle. Just to make Uncle suffer. While I maintained a safe vantage point inside a wicker basket, Clover dropped dead. It’s gauche and macabre to gloat about such a happening, so I won’t. And besides, something still bothers me —

If Uncle had chosen me, I’d be in the family tomb right now.

I’ve spent so long hating that insufferable, common-blooded little upstart for stealing my rightful position. But now Clover’s dead and I… I’m still alive. And it’s all because she was Uncle’s apprentice. Now that the dead are entombed and burnt and whatever the Earth folk do, now that the Demon is defeated, now that life can finally go on, I should be happy. But I’m not. I can’t stop thinking about what happened to Clover.

Uncle has used magic on time itself. Some say he’s stolen glimpses of the future. And ever since Clover’s death he’s avoided all of us and barely said a word. So now, after all his mistreatment and unfairness, after he cost me everything I thought I’d wanted in life, after years of him embarrassing our House, I look back and one question drives me mad:

Did he know?

• • • • •

The private journal of Princess Celestia

I think I may have misjudged Luna.

Nopony’s mentioned any new pranks since before Discord arose. The servants have nothing bad to say about Luna. They’re less afraid, at last. It looks like Luna finally listened to me!

Did gathering the Elements of Harmony help her as much as it helped me? We hardly see each other lately. Overseeing the recovery efforts has me run ragged, but I need to make some time for her. If she’s become a more mature mare, if she’s taking her duties seriously, then I really have to show her that I appreciate it.

I could have a greenhouse built for her night-blooms. Force a few so they’ll bloom in time to show her. She’d love that.

Now that Discord is sealed away and the damage is being dealt with, things are looking up. Equestria is healing. Luna and I are healing.

For the first time in a while, I’m excited to see what my next dawn reveals.

Three Months Before The Vanishing

Praetor Northwind’s memoirs

The rescued Earth mare spoke at last tonight, nearly two months after I’d found her. She has almost fully recovered from her ordeal, having returned to the rugged build and robust vitality of her kind.

She told me her name is Brome, and from the way she spoke she is what passes for a Spear-Sage among the grounded folk. There was reverent wisdom in her words. We discussed the state of the nation, and she agreed that the populace’s complacent blindness to danger had allowed the Demon to wreak the havoc he did.

When Brome explained the origins of the relics the Alicorns had used in defeating Discord, my worries about those two were confirmed. They faced a single national peril, their first, and they resorted to plundering a sacred site to overcome it. The ancient magic in those wild woods was what drew ponykind to these lands, she said.

To what terrible extremes might the Sisters go when confronted with the next danger? Would they cast down the temples of Eyrie Peak? Dive down and rob the hidden Sea Folk of their blessed Pearl?

The honour in warfare comes from defending cloud and kin. True warriors spill their own blood and their foes’, that the innocent might stay whole. The Alicorns’ destructive tactics could leave our nation naught but storm-scarred skies under a blasted waste. If Celestia and Luna lack the strength to defend us with their own power, then why have we ceded rulership to them? If they lack the wisdom and grace to spare holy ground, how can we trust them to speak for us?

We claimed this land together, three tribes as one, without their aid. Our greatest heroes banished the Windigos with not an Alicorn among them.

If Brome and I see the truth of matters, others must as well. She is well enough to travel, now — we will set out at dawn for Canterlot Mountain, and seek out allies among the Unicorns.

Three tribes united to settle this land. Now we shall do so again to reclaim it.

• • • • •

The secret diary of Princess Luna

Sombra surprised me today, Diary.

He confessed to me that he wasn’t born to royal blood of the Crystal Empire in the North. He said there was a revolution, and the old line was pushed out. Sombra stepped in to keep the peace just a few years ago, and his subjects have insisted he stay in power. He said that he held this back because he was ashamed of the trouble in his homeland, compared to the peace and harmony created by we Alicorns.

I felt as though there was more to the story than he let on, so I shared our own recent troubles in dealing with the Demon, Discord. No land is perfect, I told him.

Happily, he respected my honesty and opened up further. He said the rebellion spread a lot of anger and bitterness, and some Ponies wouldn’t listen to reason. He said that sometimes, to make a level foundation to build a strong future on, one has to break down, not just build up.

He said that sometimes you get more respect if you’re not just loved, but feared as well.

And although I haven’t seen many servants on my visits, I have to admit that they love him and fear him. Nopony questions him. They all do whatever he says, without delay. They bow and scrape and praise him, obeying so quickly and quietly that we barely even lay eyes on them. And the Crystal Empire is beautiful and peaceful and full of powerful magic. The open skies are so cloudless and the towers and spires reflect my starry nights so perfectly that it’s like the whole empire was made just for me.

Have I been looking at things the wrong way, back home? Would the court respect me more if I made them MORE scared, not less? Would Celie? After all, isn’t that what mature mares do — take charge?

When there’s time in our schedules, maybe I’ll have a firmer talk with Celie.

• • • • •

The diary of Glory, Young Lady of House Galaxy

I finally understand my Uncle, Diary.

Even though we haven’t spoken in weeks, not since before the … unpleasantness … things have changed. And irony of ironies, it’s all thanks to that dead and buried half-blood.

You see, Mother sent me to clean out Clover’s laboratory one floor down from Star Swirl’s. Can you imagine? Me! Tidying and boxing somepony’s personal effects like some commoner hoofmaiden! Mother insisted, though. She said it would show generosity and character, and that it was important to smooth things over with Uncle. Honestly, I can’t imagine why he was so upset over the library naming. Mother and Auntie saved him from making a horrendous mistake.

But I digress.

Once I’d hurried through the unwholesome task of magicking Clover’s frumpy vestments into a bag for burning, I happened upon a collection of her notes. Well, since nothing she’d learned could have been new to Uncle, and she left no heir, and her dirt-poor kin have no family prestige nor interest in spellcraft, I decided to take possession of the folios as my House’s property.

Within those crudely written pages, I came to realize my Uncle’s plans.

Time is like a flowing river, not a woven cord. That is the key. With foreknowledge of the future, it becomes possible to spoil a victory by pursuing it. Events unfold as they are meant to, like the scenes of a stage-play, and trying to reveal the ending too soon ruins the production. At last, I understand.

Everything my Uncle has done has been for a reason. All of the things that have so obsessed me, all of his cruelty and unfairness, all of my dashed hopes and crushed dreams — it’s all been for the sake of the play. It was not yet time for me to stand centre-stage.

But now, now I see. As I look over these notes, as I study these spell-diagrams, everything makes sense — even the mysterious, hooded Unicorn mare who gave me the library plans. I am fate’s foal. I am the daughter of destiny.

I am the culmination of House Galaxy’s greatness, tempered by my tribulations and strengthened by my suffering. My Marks drive me to work wonders, and at long, long last, I can soothe their maddening urgings. Everything happens for a reason, Diary. Everything. My moment is coming, I can feel it.

Nothing will stand in my way!

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from Young Lord Almandine to Lord Chrysoprase

Dear Father,

Why aren’t we fighting anymore?

Just a few days ago, you said that Sombra was a madpony! You said his magic was tainted, that it could corrupt the whole Empire — the whole WORLD! There were many Ponies who felt the same way. Those who wanted to resist his rule. I know, I saw them! I stayed up before bed and peeked in on your meeting. I know you were planning to confront the King.

But now… nopony is saying anything. Nopony is doing anything. You haven’t been back to the manor for days. You just hide in the chalet, away from the crystal aura, out in the cold. What happened to make you flee like that? Nopony was hurt. Everypony is still around. They aren’t the same, though. None of you are. It’s like you’re just shadows of the brave Crystal Ponies I’ve always looked up to.

Uncle Jasper was my crystaller. You and he have more courage than anypony I’ve ever known. And now he’s as empty and quiet and cowardly as you are. What happened to you?

What did Sombra do to you?

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from Brome the Exile to Glory of House Galaxy

Dear Lady Glory,

I know this contact is unsolicited, but please do not punish the servant who delivered this missive. She said you would be able to understand that we act for the greater good. Read on, and you will soon understand. You see, young Lady, my fellows and I stride a grand and sacred path toward a destiny of crucial import — one which you can share with us.

This land faces a fearsome threat, and driven, powerful and resourceful Ponies like yourself are desperately needed to combat it. Sadly, the Three Tribes sit now under the oppressive shadow of a Demonic presence. Not the Spirit of Chaos, whose terrors were so naked and blatant, but the more seductive and duplicitous beasts who struck him down: the Alicorn Sisters.

By claiming the sunrise and sunset with their unholy arts, they have taken away the life's work of many. By stealing ancient relics in order to bind Discord, they have forced us to trade torment for blasphemy. By towering above us in their gaudy and chimerical perfection, mingling all three tribes at once, they are no less obscene than the mismatched fiend they cast down.

For Equestria to truly be free, for us to live as the Thrice-Blessed Mare decrees, and for the Three Tribes to coexist in harmony... Celestia and Luna must be dethroned. The Earth Ponies tend the ground. The Pegasi shepherd the skies. We must return the stewardship of the heavens above to the Unicorns, and restore the balance. And we need your help to do so.

This missive was written with the juice of moon's-breath berries — these words will fade to nothing within minutes now that you have exposed them to light. All that will remain will be the knowledge that you have the chance to make a difference. An opportunity to set things right. If you are willing to accept this sacred calling, follow the road down Canterlot Mountain to the lowlands, and enter the blessed forest by the eastern path come moonrise tonight. We will await you there.

We have much to discuss.

One Month Before The Vanishing

Personal Correspondence, from Vanilla Custard to Chancellor Puddinghead

Dear Puddinghead,

I’m not coming home, so don’t bother asking me to.

You told me we’re living in a great new homeland. You said we’re free from the monsters and free to live happy lives. You said everypony can follow their Cutie Marks in peace. But now I know those were all lies.

Nothing is any better now than it was in the old country. We’re still being exploited, only now instead of Pegasi and Unicorns, the ones doing the exploiting are false idols with wings AND horns. Unnatural things that will never die, never go back to the good earth.

You collect goods and gold from hardworking, honest Earth Ponies and give it to the Alicorns. You watch the Princesses take the Unicorns’ purpose away and leave them lazy and corrupt. You let them stunt the conquering reach of the Pegasi so they take out their aggression on us. You’ve fallen from the true path. There isn’t peace among the Three Tribes — we’ve just all been enslaved together!

Just because I’m your foal, it doesn’t mean I will let you lead me astray. The Thrice-Blessed Mare will smile on me in life, and guide me wisely, and accept me when my time comes. If you don’t change your ways, that will never happen for you. For you, there’ll just be nothing.

There is a rite on the night of the New Moon, in the eastern pasture-lands. If you want to be a part of my life, then cast off your shoes and trappings and join us there. Honour the Dam of your Dam, skyclad under the stars. If you show up, we can be a family again.

If you don’t, consider this goodbye.

Vanilla

• • • • •

Personal Correspondence, from King Sombra to Princess Luna

My beloved Princess of the Night,

I composed this reply the very moment I received your missive. This flame-sending is truly a blessing — it allows us to stay in touch instantly, even when we are apart! I have learned so much amazing magic from you, my dear.

I am so pleased to hear that you laid down the law with your elder sister. Power only respects power, and now that you have displayed yours, I am sure Celestia will back down. She doesn’t understand you. She doesn’t understand us. Her precious light blinds her. She could never know the secrets and pleasures of the shadows as we have.

Your latest gift just arrived — a thousand thanks, my darling. You are helping me transform my Empire into a worthy testament to the beauty and splendour of the night. The mysteries of the Crystal Heart are within my grasp, I can feel it. Your love and devotion have shown me the way. Soon its power will be mine, and the whole world will come to know the majesty of the night!

We’re so close, my love. I just need a few more. Perhaps double this last shipment? You’ve been so generous, so caring. I know I can trust you to see this through.

To the nameless depths with any who do not recognize your worth, beloved. They mean nothing. As far as I am concerned, you are the only Princess that Equestria needs.

When next the Black Moon would rise, let it lie — your day-loving sister will not notice if you leave it to slumber and spend those dark, delightful days by my side. Stay with me then, my Princess of the Night. I cannot bear our constant partings much longer. Stay with me. We will bask in the wonders of the dark together until the crescent calls.

Yours, ever faithful,

Sombra

• • • • •

Gardenia Glow’s notebook

REMINDER — Young Lady Glory’s new dress will be ready on the sixth of the month. Tell new seamstress about what House Scintilla’s heir did then. She’ll tell everypony.

NOTE — Candle Glow is working for Young Lady Glory’s second cousin Sunbeam of House Majesty. Who is her Dam? Sunbeam is too young to have a grown filly already, even one Glow-born. Maybe Gossip that she’s Celestia’s? Possible double benefit there if we can pin down real Dam and apply pressure. Let Young Lady know about this.

REMINDER — Seashell has some Earth business on the New Moon, and Brome will be busy then, too. Reschedule Young Lady’s meeting, and call in different hoofmaiden to prepare Young Lady’s bath on those nights.

REMINDER — Check on moon's-breath bushes, press more ripe berries in the dark-room. Double-check curtains.

IMPORTANT — Northwind visits in three days. Have that herbal wing balm ready by then. He’ll want a massage after his long flight. Ask him about wars, Pegasi love talking about wars. And get mane done before then, too. Older Pegasi like a short mane. No perfume, though. Rainwater rinse, maybe? He’d like that for sure.

NOTE — House Nebula is inviting Princesses to the next ball. Luna won’t come because she’s never available in the evenings. Gossip to the Lady’s maid that Luna doesn’t want to come? Sunbeam isn’t invited because of the thing with the Young Lord last fall. Gossip to Candle Glow that Celestia took her place on the guest list?

V. IMPORTANT — Zebra diplomats in Canterlot next week. Find out who they are staying with, and who is serving them. Can’t let things go smoothly.

REMINDER — Minister of Agriculture visiting the House soon. Get favourite tea. Keep cat away — allergies. Listen for reactions to pressure from Pegasi.

• • • • •

The private journal of Princess Celestia

Luna and I had a fight tonight.

We almost never speak these days, and I finally found out why:

She has a lover.

She said he’s the ruler of the Empire in the North — has she really been there every time I’ve looked for her and failed to find her? It would take up nearly her every waking hour just making the trips, even with magic!

The servants have been worried, too. She’d made so much progress, but now she’s been scarier than ever! I almost didn’t find out about it, too. The poor maids have been so frightened that they haven’t said a word. I had to corner one and demand answers, and even then she panicked so badly that it took nearly an hour to get her to calm down and confess her fears.

And then there’s the matter of the mines. I’ve gotten reports of whole veins of crystal being dug out by night crews, but none of the storehouses or laboratories have gotten any extra deliveries. Has Luna been trading with the Empire without telling me?

I tried to ask her those questions, and more. It was so rare for us to meet up that I had to rush things. I pressed her. I had to try and understand. And she—

She screamed at me. She used the Royal Canterlot Voice, roaring as loud as a Dragon. She said I envied her. She said I wanted to take her stallion away. Her magic blazed so hard that it actually knocked me over! She took off after that. I got up and followed her.

She flew to the greenhouse. She hovered above it, and shouted again. She kept using the Voice — her words echoed off the towers. She told me that the night belongs to her. She told me to stay out of her business.

And then she blasted the greenhouse to smithereens.

I can see the smouldering ruins from my window now, as I write this by hornlight. All I can smell is the stink of burnt night-blooms.

What should I do? We’d almost recovered after Discord, and now everything’s coming apart. The courtiers have been squabbling so much lately, the Pegasi are invoking laws that date back centuries, it seems like every farming town is up in arms over something, and now this.

I was so focused on Luna that I’ve let Equestria slip into this terrible state. If I keep trying to fix things with the Unicorns and Pegasi and Earth Ponies now, will Luna get worse? She’s never around, and it would take so much time to follow her to the Empire. How can we mend things? This distance between us hurts so much. What if I can’t be a good sister and a good Princess at the same time?

No. I have to try. I’ll send a messenger to find out more about the Empire and its King. I’ll sleep less, and find the time to keep an eye on Luna. I’ll see to all these crises and settle them as best I can. I have to. Everypony’s depending on me.

I can’t let them down.

• • • • •

Personal Correspondence, from Senator Gale to General Firefly

Hail, General Firefly.

According to my research, the Praetor was right. The Lex Pluvia was never rescinded, only left unenforced. After the Demon’s attack, we have every right to invoke it once more. It’s obvious that Equestria is not as clear-skied as it had seemed after the defeat of the Windigos. Dangers remain, and we can’t become complacent.

The Unicorns see only themselves, and the Earth Ponies’ toil keeps them distracted. If we have to maintain a vigil while also managing the rains and snows, it’s only fair that we demand a proper tithe. The rapacity that some of our number showed before the Hearth’s Warming was counterproductive, but that doesn’t mean we should labour without reward.

If the farmers and gardeners among the Earth Ponies and the vintners and herbalists among the Unicorns can’t grasp the simple idea of honest pay for honest work, then let a dry spell teach them the value of a raindrop.

I know you have trained some of the tribe’s best warriors, Firefly — put them to use now in helping us keep Equestria safe from its enemies. Before the next moon, I want to see golden grounder wheat piled high on our silver clouds.

Fly swift and true, friend.

Gale

One Day After the Vanishing

A sermon to the faithful by Brome the Exile

I beseech You, O Dam of my Dam, grant me a measure of Your perfect voice as I address Your faithful.

You who stand before me, skyclad and unshod. Who have turned away from the corrupt dominion of the unholy Princesses to give yourselves to a pure and higher power. You who stand shoulder to shoulder with kith and kin and newfound friends alike. Who strive to honour the destinies Marked upon your hides with trust and piety. You who work and struggle, who toil and endure. You who know hardship and loss, triumph and prosperity.

You are true Ponies.

The Princesses have power beyond any mortal Pony’s. They do not know toil.

They are ageless, lurking outside the cycle of years. They do not know urgency.

They were given their ranks unearned, propped up like figureheads. They do not know merit.

We, the faithful, will not submit to such unnatural, blasphemous, decadent creatures. We will not let them make a mockery of the three tribes as one with their deformed bodies.

We, the true Ponies, will stand united in faith, and speak with one clear voice:

You are stronger than any of us, Princesses, but you are not stronger than all of us.

And your vain shows of power amount to nothing without the bounty granted to us by the Thrice-Blessed Mare.

So say we all!

• • • • •

The secret diary of Princess Luna

It’s all my fault.

All those Ponies. A whole Empire, gone! So much fear and pain. And all those things. Those things he showed me. Why did I look? If I hadn’t looked, they’d still be here. The Empire would still be here. It’s all my fault.

I skipped Night Court. It’s almost time for dawn now, but I can’t close my eyes. Every time I close my eyes I see it again. What I saw, and what he showed me after. Why did I look?

Why did I look at his dreams?

I was such a foal. Such a dull-witted, stupid-eyed, lovestruck foal. To think that he’d ever—

But, maybe I could have changed him. If we hadn’t confronted him, if he hadn’t been forced to act. Things could have turned out differently. There was more to him, there had to be. More than what I saw. More than the nightmares he put in my head.

I can’t stand it, Diary! How can I show my face in the light ever again? I can’t sleep. The dreams wake me. I can’t eat. I can hear them whispering behind my back. See them staring. Measuring me. Comparing me to her.

Why did they laugh? I could have endured it if they’d screamed, if they’d been afraid like they’ve always been. Why did he make me see that? Why mocking and whispering and laughing? Why would he choose that? Why? What did he see in me, to know how that would hurt? We spoke so much. He knew me so well. Is it true, then? Am I just an embarrassment to them? To her? Are their shows of fear just humouring me? Is she laughing at me right now?

WHY DID I LOOK?

• • • • •

The journal of Smart Cookie

The Chancellor hasn’t been to the Town Hall in five days, now.

Nothing hurts like a family crisis, I know that. Vanilla galloping off to join those uncivilized folk in the fields was a terrible blow. I know.

But somepony has to keep things running smoothly, and it’s been me these days. It’s been me again. First the founding, and now this. Puddinghead’s not the only no-show, either. Half the town is cavorting in the fields, unshod and unclothed, hollering prayers in the Old Way. The Mare didn’t do all that much to see off the Windigos, I noticed. Strange they think She’ll help now.

Of course, it’s no better among the other tribes, I’d wager. I hear tell of plots and schemes in the palaces, of families feuding on the mountaintop. The rains are late again, because the weather-keepers want tributes. Didn’t we leave all that behind in the old country? I’ll never forget the Hearth’s Warming. It was the moment I was born for, I’ve no doubt. What the three of us achieved can’t already be crumbling. There’s no way!

There is business to tend to. We have traders due back from the North. Puddinghead will be at the next Town Hall, even if I have to kick in Sweet Cream Estate’s doors and make it happen myself. Mark me, I won’t see the snows return. Not like this.

There is strength in Earth Ponies that’s older and deeper than some showy superstitions. We just need to remember it’s there.

• • • • •

The private journal of Princess Celestia

I’m so tired.

There were more than a dozen traders, nobles and messengers in the Empire when it was banished. More than a dozen of our subjects, gone forever. Half of them, sent there by me. We returned so quickly, nopony even knows yet. How will I tell them? I don’t even know how many Crystal Ponies there were. Did any escape at all? Did I lose control of the situation so badly that an entire race was eradicated?

I should have put the pieces together sooner. I should have figured it out. It’s been three weeks since I slept. The alertness enchantment stopped working days ago. I have to use a sleepness-nights curse now, instead. But I can’t stop. Every moment I take for myself, the problems pile up higher and higher. I’m writing this on the move, while a minister speaks to me. I’m nodding, and I don’t even know what he’s saying. He doesn’t sound upset, so it’s just business as usual, I guess. I’m so tired. But I can’t sleep. I can’t waste that kind of time. Not now. Not with everything falling apart around me. Not with a whole allied nation destroyed overnight. And I still have to compose an official statement.

I’m terrified of nodding off, because if I do I’ll see that awful vision again. I can’t stop thinking about it. All those judging eyes, all those weeping foals. And Luna. Luna. Did that hex of Sombra’s do more than show me horrors? Did it predict the future?

We are so much stronger than other Ponies, but I’m starting to feel so empty inside. My strength is running out. I need to rest, but I can’t. What if I let them down? What if it all comes true? I have to raise the Sun. I have to rule Equestria. I have to keep everypony calm. After what happened, Luna’s so hurt she won’t even come out of her room. She’s raising the Moon from her own window. Star Swirl’s so weak and sad ever since Clover died — it’s like he’s aged decades in barely a year. King Bullion and his family are caught up in the House disputes.

There is nopony else. If I fail, everything that happens after will be my fault.

There have to be stronger insomnia curses than this one. I’ll look in the Witches’ Grimoire if I have to. I can stand it. No matter how much it hurts. Too much is at stake to complain about burning eyes and chattering teeth.

I can’t fail. I can’t. I can’t—

• • • • •

Praetor Northwind’s memoirs

I bled alongside Hurricane today, for the first time in years.

It was no Griffon Conflict. Just a messy little skirmish with some Earthen farmers who tried to cheat us of our rightful wages. Nopony slain. They had tools, and each was strong as three Pegasi, but they weren’t warriors. Ponies don’t take to combat. Our spirits long for peace. Real martial skill takes training. In the clouds, we hone our foals like bronze, shaping and sharpening them from dull to deadly. It was a decisive victory, even if the fight was a small one. It was a message, not a massacre.

A pitchfork scraped my side deeply enough to need a storm-cauter; how I’d missed the sizzle and the sear of a new scar! The healing pain that tells me I am still alive.

Hurricane fought well, as he always has — his fame is well deserved. We didn’t speak much, warfare has a way of stilling the tongue. But I could see the gleam in his eyes, as he saw it in mine. We’d been too long without a war.

I was uneasy over the secret creepings that Brome and Glory favoured in this scheme, but their efforts are laying down kindling, dry and fresh and ready for a strike from above.

I needed this, even more than I’d thought. I needed to feel the thunder of battle again. I didn’t truly realize how badly I’d missed it until I felt the wound. The worry and fear that had plagued me are gone. I’m alive again. Reborn. And the war is only just beginning!

Perhaps I’ll pay young Glory’s maid a visit, after all.

• • • • •

Personal Correspondence, from Princess Platinum to Glory of House Galaxy

Our Dear Cousin,

We wanted to correspond to express Our appreciation for your timely warning about the upstart House whose ambitious scion shall remain nameless here. If nopony is pursuing one’s title and powerbase then one is in a most unenviable state to be sure, but such naked scheming is absolutely unacceptable. There are protocols to be followed!

Your alarum helped Our Father to quash the plans of said upstarts before they could make any measurable progress. Again, We thank you.

Be that as it may, the request you made in tandem with your warning is simply untenable. We have seen no evidence of instability from the Princesses, and the Sun and Moon continue to rise and set in keeping with the Grand Almanac.

You come from a long line of Dawnbringers and Dusk-keepers, Young Lady Glory, and we do not write only of your esteemed Uncle. The Crown honours the sacrifice of all of your forebears, living and passed on. Even the last Primarch to lead a Council, who stepped aside to welcome Star Swirl's august assistance and who now serves Our interests as a diplomat in the North, is also of your House. It is out of respect for the sufferings of your kin that We must deny your request.

Until there is some concrete sign of incapacity from Celestia and Luna, We cannot condone the reformation of the Councils of Dawn and Dusk, and the hazard they present to the best and brightest of Unicorns.

Please understand, We act with the wellbeing and safety of all Unicornkind at heart. But rest assured, if ever the sad necessity should return, We shall look no further than your House for the next Council Primarch.

With warmest regards to you and your House,

Princess Platinum of House Majesty

• • • • •

Never-Rest Hex, Witches’ Grimoire

From sunny roads to Moon-lit ways, you’ll find no scrap of mercy.

With restless nights and woeful days, I spitefully do curse thee.

Steal not a blink but stay awake, bear witness to your pain,

Until fair recompense you make, you’ll never sleep again.

Three Days Before Nightmare Night

The diary of Glory of House Galaxy

Is this what I wanted?

Northwind and Brome assure me that things are proceeding as intended. They say these are the birthing pains of a better world for us all.

At first it was exciting — scheming behind the scenes, gathering gossip, playing Houses against one another to turns things our way — but little by little this has all become something more than a game. Something worrisome and stressful. Everypony is so tense, now. The air is charged, as though the Pegasi are withholding a storm. Nopony speaks casually, every step and move is measured. Every idle chat is a duel. Gardenia Glow’s so busy maneuvering that she’s scarcely ever in. I’m only getting my hair done three times a week, and I can hardly trust a stranger to do it, now can I?

The latest gossip says a whole kingdom in the North has been blasted off the face of the world. Was that because of us? Did somepony resort to forbidden war-magic because of all these plans within plans and schemes within schemes? Nopony seems to have any details, and it’s frustrating. And even worse, the loss of the Canterlotter diplomats present made several weeks of scheming fall right onto the rubbish tip.

I just wanted to follow my Cutie Mark, Diary! I was born to serve on a Council. I know it in my soul! That’s all I’ve ever longed for. My entire education and upbringing groomed me and prepared me to take my rightful place.

My Uncle and the Princesses are to blame for all this mistrust and chaos and politicking. If they hadn’t gone and changed everything, if things had stayed normal and right and good, I could be raising the Sun right now. Perhaps even that beastly Discord came calling because they gathered so much personal magic. Why, for all we know, Celestia and Luna could have called forth the Windigos themselves, to send us scampering forth under their hooves! It would have been meagre fare as far as schemes go, compared to the webs we’ve woven trying to oust them.

Yes. It’s clear. Laying things out for you has helped, Diary. We can’t stop now, even if I do have to let my favourite baker go because he’s the cousin of House Nebula’s heir. Everything we’re going through now is the Princesses’ fault, and unless we bring them down, they will never see punishment for it.

I must simply endure, for the greater good.

• • • • •

The private journal of Princess Celestia

Luna’s stopped coming out of her room at all, now.

She refuses food, and screams insults and accusations through the door whenever a hoofmaiden tries to beg her to reconsider. I know she’s suffering, but she’s also so angry — raging at our subjects, at me, and at herself.

I can’t stop thinking about what Sombra’s hex showed me. The magic is holding, keeping me awake even now, but I still see it sometimes. My mind wanders, and it’s like it’s happening again. Luna goes mad, and nothing I say can stop it. She tries to do something terrible, and I —

It’s three hours of afternoon court later, now, and I still feel anxious even thinking about it. No matter what she did, I could never do that. I just couldn’t. Could I? I’m shaking as I walk to another late lunch that will taste like ashes because of the magic sizzling in my nerves. I couldn’t. Not even to save every other Pony in the world. Never.

Please, make these thoughts stop. It’s not fair that I’ve stayed awake so long to escape these nightmares, only for them to slip into my mind anyway. Please, make it stop! Stop! I can’t! No matter what!

I can’t kill my sister. I can’t. Never! Never never never —

I have to go. It’s crowded in the grand hall, and looking back at these words, they look like the scrawlings of a madpony. Did I even write them? Perhaps I should tear out this page and burn it. If anypony saw this —

I have to go.

• • • • •

Gardenia Glow’s notebook

On a bed of clouds, a dozen castles’ height above Canterlot Mountain, everypony looks like teeming ants.

This is my first evening off in a fortnight, and I want to remember this feeling. Who knows how long it’s been since a Unicorn has seen a view like this? This cloud-walking spell I dug up dates back to ancient times. And more’s the pity.

Up here, looking down on it all — nobles, commoners, Princesses, paupers — you can see that nothing really matters in the end.

That came out wrong. It’s a warm thought, it really is. I can’t imagine how Pegasi manage to be so fearsome, with these views. Up here, you can see that all the squabbles and plots come out the same in the end. All these schemes won’t buy us one more day outside a tomb. We could be filling our lives with harmony and friendship. We could sing.

None of this is getting onto paper properly. Damn it all, not even looking over at him as he dozes is helping. It’s so clear in my head. In my heart. This feeling. I look down at our tiny little mountain, and nopony’s putting importance on anything important. Everypony’s rushing and scrambling to do nothing real. They’re working their hardest at hardly anything at all.

Heavens above, that was even worse. Just try to remember this, when you’re back down in less thin air. Remember this feeling. Remember looking down on it all, with his chest hot on your back. Down there, in the anthill. Remember, you silly lovestruck filly.

Remember.

• • • • •

Vanilla Custard’s Book of Gratitudes

O Dam of my Dam, O High-Kicking Filly, I thank You.

I thank You for opening my eyes to the decadence and blasphemy of my old life at Sweet Cream Estate. I know now that my comfort and ease came at too high a price.

I thank You for guiding me to Your faithful, who are like a new family to me. I have so many brothers and sisters, now. The young ones aren’t afraid to ask me for help at any hour of the day, and the elders all have so much advice to give me. So very much.

I thank You for giving me the strength to turn my back on blind, unhearing heretics like Puddinghead. Without You, I would still be in that fallen Pony’s home.

O Dam of my Dam, O Heavy-Bellied Mare, I thank You.

I thank You for Brome and her inspiring sermons. Whenever I begin to doubt, whenever I have uneasy questions, her words help keep me on Your sacred path. She has so much presence, sometimes it’s almost frightening.

I thank You for the songs and dances we share. Unclothed and unshod, as we should be, the exercise helps keep us all warm.

I thank You for our simple, natural fare at mealtimes. Who needs cakes and pies when Your great bounty is laid out before us, there for the grazing?

O Dam of my Dam, O Wise-Eyed Nag, I thank You.

• • • • •

Personal correspondence, from Star Swirl the Bearded to Whom it may Concern

It is said that some horrors are sights one cannot unsee.

It is true that bearing witness brings a burden under which some become crushed. It is true that terrible sights leave some blasted and hollowed, staring through the world into the nothingness beyond it. It is true that some bystanding Ponies suffer almost as badly as the victims they watch.

There is more to that phrase than the sufferings of the witnesses, however. Sights that cannot be unseen. For just as the unwitting and unwilling watcher cannot consent to what he sees, neither can the sight refuse to be seen. The damage is done.

I have seen so very much in my relatively short life. More than anypony else could have. I have arrogantly stepped beyond the reach of my years, and my hoofbeats upon history yet to be written have stirred and clouded the waters of the flowing river.

It is coming. The moment that swore me off further wanderings through time. The sight I cannot unsee.

Will it be as I saw it? Has the future been written? Or has the muddied river of time found a different course?

I am not the stallion who stepped hence and saw. I have not acted as I otherwise might have. Things have changed. But have I actually altered the course at all — or ensured that it comes to pass?

The Sisters have already seen so much. So much they can never unsee. And the worst may yet be to come.

I swear to all that’s holy, if I only had the power I would spare them from it. But I haven’t. I cannot save them. Just as I could not save Clover. I am just a sad old magus, weighed down by boastful bells and shameful memories and sights I can never, ever unsee.

I implore you, the one who finds this — no matter the library wing and the spellbooks, no matter my legacy, remember this about Star Swirl the Bearded:

In the end, I was neither wise, nor powerful, nor quick-witted enough to save the ones I cared about the most.

Star Swirl

Six Hours After Nightmare Night

The diary of Glory of House Galaxy

Gardenia Glow is taking my dictation, Diary, so you must excuse the change in penmareship.

After what transpired today, my eyes are still too teary and dazzled to focus on a page. All I can see are the flickering after-images of what happened. It’s getting better, as is the ringing in my ears. Better than the sorry state of our pathetic plans, anyway.

Diary, I didn’t know!

None of us knew! How could we? We acted based upon what we had seen — the efforts the Princesses had publicly undertaken. From that, I’d guessed Princess Celestia had the magic of perhaps a dozen Unicorns. A match for a Council.

I was such an arrogant, witless foal to think that the stage-play was about me.

I had come to the Sisters’ woodland castle with a cadre of nobles, intent on expressing our lack of confidence in their rule. Instead, we bore witness to the battle.

The way Celestia wielded the Elements of Harmony, the magical scourging she endured from her mad Sister, the way she effortlessly cast aside night and summoned day, and the howl — the howl, Diary. Like the most terrible Demon in Tartarus!

Celestia does not carry the power of a dozen Unicorns. Neigh, not on her weakest day. She has unfathomable, incalculable, terrifying power. Power that struck me half-blind and half-deaf from a quarter-league away. All of the whispers are true. She really is an ageless titan. She truly does have magic greater than any other. At last I see why she didn’t make any real counter-moves to our politicking. We were not opposing players, but mere pieces on the board. Chips of painted wood she could brush aside with a casual sweep of her tail. Our conspiracy to claim her crown hasn’t failed, Diary.

It never began in the first place.

I don’t know what will become of us all. Of me. With Luna gone, Celestia will no doubt take stewardship over both night and day. My Mark’s desire is in the grip of an invincible immortal. My Uncle is nowhere to be found.

Perhaps I will study the heavens? Become an astrologer and oracle like Great Aunt Starflower?

It hardly matters. From this day forth, every House of Unicornkind knows that we sit in the shadow of a giant. Our grandest workings are but tapers before a bonfire.

On the morrow, if I am mended enough, I will speak to Princess Platinum. The word will have spread by then. It stings me deeply to speak these words, but things have to change and we need to accept it. The time of Unicorn rule is passed.

This is the dawning of a new age.

• • • • •

A testament by Brome Twice-Born

I have seen the light.

Through the darkness of my days, through the crucible of suffering, through doubt and shame and terror and grief, I have kept the faith and cleaved to the Old Ways. And now, the Thrice-Blessed Mare has rewarded my piety with revelation.

I reviled the Alicorns because I felt their power and beauty and perfection sought to vainly replicate the divinity of the Mare. No worldly creature could so blasphemously dare aspire to such perfection, I thought. Only now, in the light of revelation, do I understand:

Celestia IS the Thrice-Blessed Mare!

She came before us as a filly full of promise, and She cast aside foalish ways in earning her Mark and then defeating the profane and twisted games of the Demon, Discord.

She grew to be a strong and leaderly mare, and faced the challenges of ruling a nation like a single vast household while doing the labour of many without complaint. As a foal does not question the endless endurance of her mother, I did not question the apparent ease of Her travails.

And now, this sacred day, She knew wisdom and pain as a nag does, proving Herself worthy of the fruit of the sacred tree and seeing one She loved snatched away by the darkness of eternity.

She is the three-as-one, in life and in tribe, young and grown and old, winged and horned and puissant. Perfect and eternal.

I knew Her, then, when She purged the Dark Sister and became pure. I knew Her, when She shrieked Her grief to the brightening skies. That sound shook me to my very soul. It was the same wail I felt my heart issue when I saw what the Demon had made me do to my precious Sweetgrass. I found meaning in my agony in that moment, for it showed me that Celestia felt as deeply for Luna as I felt for my foal, yet She sacrificed Her Sister to protect us all. I knew Celestia then, and I loved Her, as I know and love the Mare.

Celestia has walked the Threefold Path in the ancient way. She has banished all darkness and impurity from Her soul with the sacrifice of Her own kin. She is a mother to all three tribes, heir to our strength and Pegasus swiftness and Unicorn magic. She is the Thrice-Blessed Mare made flesh.

I will spend the rest of my days preaching this revelation. I will hold sacred the longest night of the harvest season and the brightest day of high summer, to honour the immortal Princess. I will gather and teach my herd and cast them to the winds like maple seeds, to spread the gospel further. To the farthest reaches of Equestria and beyond, we will spread the faith. From the highest clouds to the lowest valley, She will be praised.

In Celestia’s name, so mote it be.

• • • • •

Praetor Northwind’s memoirs

Life is like a storm, my mother used to say. Sometimes you push with all your might, but the clouds don’t have a drop of rain to give. And sometimes you give a gentle flick of your wing, and there’s a downpour. You can never truly be sure, even of the most seemingly obvious things.

A few years ago I’d felt the weight of my winters like a coat of Earth Pony barding. I had felt like my good years were behind me, my battles fought, my legacy complete.

And yet, a few wing-flicks later, here I hover, and everything is different. Everything.

I have a good mare in my life, wingless though she be. I have hope for what lies ahead. And my fear — my accursed, shameful fear — is gone.

Our nation is secure, I know that now. It always was. We have lost a Princess to the thunder of civil war, and the loss of such a mighty creature is regrettable. But in that same conflict Celestia proved herself willing to do what must be done, and able to bring forth the power to do so.

She has defeated her own kind to safeguard the Three Tribes. Both Princesses faced the Demon Discord, but in a world gone mad it was hard to understand their prowess and courage. This was different. Celestia’s battle cry shattered glass for half a mile and shook rain from watchers’ clouds high above. She has been deemed worthy by an ancient weapon of awesome power. For the first time, I am willing to bow my head to a horned ruler. She is not like the soft King and Queen of the Unicorns. Everypony who bore witness could see it. She is like us.

She is blooded. She is mighty. She is glorious.

She is our Princess.

Epilogue: 362,564 Days After Nightmare Night

Personal Correspondence, from Princess Celestia to Princess Luna

Undelivered

My Dear Sister,

Sunset Shimmer is no longer my student.

I had such high hopes for her, but her temperament and impatience just weren’t suited to the lessons I tried to teach her. She wasn’t ready. If only I’d realized that sooner. But I suppose blindness to the problems of the Ponies closest to me has always been my problem, hasn’t it?

I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.

I’ve done my best over the years to give you good news to read. I know it hasn’t always worked out. I know I’ve been bitter and miserable sometimes. We’ve had so many ups and downs, so many crises and celebrations, and you’ve missed them all. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told you I miss you in these letters. How many times I’ve let you know that I remember you. The real you. Of course, you haven’t seen any of them.

The astrologers tell me you’ve been adjusting the stars more and more lately — they say that soon the entire night sky will be one big spell matrix.

They say that soon you will escape.

Are you still angry, after all these years? Have you been nursing a grudge for nine centuries and more? I can’t stop you if you are, Luna. You were more than a match for me then, and now I can’t use the Elements of Harmony to even the odds. They won’t heed my call anymore. Not for this.

It’s funny, but I don’t think I’ve ever told you that. Maybe I worried you’ve been watching me from up there, and you’d hurry your plans if you knew. Maybe I was just ashamed. All of Equestria has worshipped me for a dozen generations, but as long as we’re apart, as long as I’ve failed to save you, I know I’m not worthy of being the keeper of Harmony.

But I can’t let you run rampant, either. I can’t let that be your legacy forever. I have to give you a chance to let go of this hatred, for yourself if not for me. You don’t deserve to be a monster, Sister. And before you finish turning the stars to aid your escape, I will find a new student who can be the Pony I couldn’t. Who can prove herself worthy and banish the sickness from you.

There are more exams tomorrow. I’ll find the one. I have to. There won’t be time to try again if I don’t.

Love always,

Celie