A tale from the ocean, the earth, and the sky

An emerald eye with a jet black iris piqued, half an inch across, looked outward into the endless black vacuum that was her night sky. The mare would call herself an artist, but one so talented that her art wasn’t limited to a pastel and canvas or the notes on sheet music. Her art transcended all, unmatched in it’s gloriousness, beauty, and maddening unending. Her art was alike her child, each star meticulously placed and crafted and thought of with only love, all of them of different sizes, color and intensity. When ever her eyes flicked upwards, she was reminded of who she was. The mother of stars, the guardian of the night, the creator of shadows. She was… whole. The mare wasn’t always this way. She remembered when she was once another mare entirely, one of fear and loathing, basking in no glory, no appreciation for her creation. But there is another memory, a time prior to that time. She was also another. Afraid, cowardly, but delightfully creative. The two were different, one was a foal, would have been afraid of it’s own shadow if there was a wall and light to cast it against. The second was closeting an ego and spite. When she taken her current form she decided to adopt a new name, as it was common for her to do so when she became something anew. Her first form was had a name, but so long had past she could never recall it, but for certain her last body held the name of Luna. She arrived at her new name upon taking her new form almost immediately. Mare of the night, controller of the moon, she dubbed herself: Nightmare Moon.

Despite being her creation she tired of the silence that came forth with the vacuum of space, longing for the sound of her hooves landing on the smooth stone tiles of her castle unjustly torn from her possession. The nightmare's eye moved slowly from star to star, tracing both constellations known and unknown to the Equestrians, and counted them. She amazed even herself at the quantity of stars that lined the skies, each a swirling mass of light and heat. Perhaps this is where she found her jealously originated from. Despite being hers, it was her sister’s destiny to control the lights, and not herself. All she held were the inhabitable masses of rock that orbits another slightly bigger rock. Her jealousy spiraled into everlasting hatred, of this she was self aware. Her moon's reflected the light of what was truly hers, and this order couldn’t be changed… or could it? It was her desire, to change that which had always been, to rid of the sun’s presence in the sight of all that dwell upon the surface of her planet, and cast the world in an eternal night, her glorious moon fixed permanently in the sky.

However her plan, her perfect vision, was obscured and blinded by action of her sister, befalling the creation intended for chaos. For her to be foiled by such trinkets enraged her, the mere act causing her silhouette to be plastered onto her moon, causing all who look upon it to feel fear and to avert their eyes. The monstrous tales created surrounding her by the populace weakened her, no longer being revered for the god she was, but the beast she is. Nevertheless, she no longer gained power from subjects and their admiration, but there remained one bastion of hope for the night mare. Her creation, the star, still orbited, blessing her frame with solar energies simply being given back to her, as was her recompense. She’d never gain enough power from the star to remove herself was this torturous imprisonment, but she would at least gain the means to allow it.

She had lived so long she no longer thought of days but years in their stead, as it passed to quickly she no longer processed the seconds, minutes or collection of hours that a day was made up of. But she knew that this year she could initiate the series of events that would lead to her freedom. She thought of a primitive metaphor, that of a large falling tree, and she’d be the axe that caused its felling. None would prevent its thunderous crash upon the forest floor, as none would be there to even witness it, or even be aware of it. By the time mortals or immortals stumble upon its rotted remains it would be too late to salvage even kindling!

Within a crater Nightmare Moon’s horn ebbed with power, and with a flash three shots were fired from her horn to the planet’s surface. To average observer it would appear as nothing more than a shooting star, a harmless streak across the night sky, when it reality she just used up a millennium's worth of power in a single use. To Griffonia, she awakened a monster beneath the stone and dirt. To the Minotaurs, she altered a single mind, undoing a web of trust and certainty present since the formation of their uncivilized rabble. Finally to Equestria, the home of her sister, she summoned a being from another reality which would undoubtedly be within the presence of Celestia enough to fulfill its purpose, an act which left her haggard and tired. She laughed at the irony, the spells mimicking her own birth in a way. First the Nightmare was awakened within her, leading to the gradual change and alteration of her mind, finally giving way to summon the Mare of the Night herself.

When she felt the connections form and link their inseparable bonds she abruptly fell onto her side, eyes fluttering shut as she became a somnambulist puppeteer, already her whispers sounding in the minds of her servants; She twitched, her jaw quivering out barely legible words to be read from the lips, pulling at their strings...