Bound by Moonlight

Chapters

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Despair
Acceptance

Denial

Steps, only steps, sounding in what would otherwise be silence, made therefore to seem all the louder against this absence. Likewise each rhythmic hoof-fall shattered with motion what should have been still, nothing else stirring to join them. They never faltered from their regular tempo, clicking sharply as gilded metal striking against polished marble, echoing great distances in all directions.

Princess Celestia’s movements were slow, sensing no need to be rushed, but at the same time they lacked all leisure. This was nothing new; after all there are few moments when any sovereign is granted the liberty to drift without focus. As such the royal image remained as a timeless and infinitely resistant pure white wall, entirely blemishless: a stoic’s visage. Yet beyond this exterior the picture was quite different, just visible beneath the immediate surface. She moved with an air of consideration simply because she was caught in considering, her strides not wanting of direction but somehow lacking, like her body and mind were well out of sync.

The princess’ world was one of scale and grandeur, easily vast enough to look brutalist in its aspect, yet everywhere covered with a thick veneer of regal complexity. Great domes and vaulted ceilings floated high above supported beneath by the regimented ranks of classically styled pillars, all channelling an ancient permanence. Light poured in on all sides through tall unmasked windows, alighting on flowing pennants hung in amongst the hall’s eves, gleaming in imperial crimson and royal purple. Like all others within the palace walls the room was bright, airy and open, too open. Ultimately it felt empty, its spaciousness more a void than a decadence, crushingly present like the pull of a vacuum. What furniture there was, although plush beyond measure, did little to alleviate this. In every space it was scant, dwarfed by its surroundings, but that in of itself was not the issue. No amount of chairs, rugs or scatter cushions (no matter how liberally applied) could fill in the gaps, and in any case she had no need of more. Those that there already were seemed like they had been there forever (mostly because they had) and that was the problem: nothing felt truly hers. Few places differed from this trend, her own consciously little room being one in this bare minority.

Celestia’s ears flicked and twitched, almost startled by every harsh impact her gilded shoes made against the ground, whilst simultaneously sifting the underlying quiet for something more. Although she was by no means on her own she still found nothing, her own breathing maybe, but nothing more. The fact that there was as always a considerable number of the Solar Guard in attendance gave this lack a loaded quality. It was as if everything stopped at her approach, even breath cut short and held, demanding her command even when she had none to give. They cared for her and she loved them in return, along with all besides, but still she hated the pressure which came from doing this with a crown. It was an ever-present barrier, it was a lonely circlet.

The princess left one hallway and entered another, equally aglow with her charge’s light, receiving a salute from the new room’s sentries with a nod. She made her features into a warm smile, reminding herself that it was unfair to falsely blame them for anything, they being innocent of anything that beset her. They were however in equal measure no cure either. Though it was true that they tended to her safety and more than that, this could not be easily separated from the fact that they were oath bound to do so. Like the great many others which inhabited the palace therefore, or those who flocked there as a hoard each day with petitions (to command or be commanded), it was difficult to trust the intentions behind each pleasant face. These thoughts were unpleasant; making her guilty in tacitly thinking the worst of every one of her subjects, but then again it would always be the sovereign’s place to defensively doubt. For the most well-known mare on Equis, who was regularly visited by swarms of those she served, it made for an isolated existence.

Celestia succeeded in stifling a sigh, being well versed at concealing herself after an age of practice. ‘Force-feeding yourself a potent mix of soul searching and self-reproach is hardly likely to improve your mood’ she concluded wordlessly to herself. ‘It’s just been a long week, so get back to the task at hoof and stop being so doom and gloom.’

It had been a long week, or rather it had seemed like one, lacking in any time to escape from the repetitive rigmarole of court life. In fact in this it was just another “long” week in a long series, making up a “long” couple of months. Now it was finally over, at least for a little while, and as her more than sensible mind suggested the potential distraction of her present focus was exactly what she needed.

There was at least one who the princess could confide in, who she could trust without question and who would always be there. Luna was to Celestia akin to a solid rock or foundation, somepony she loved as family but who equally bore the weight of a crown like her, allowing some otherwise impossible understanding. The older alicorn’s reliance in this regard was however a guilty one, her dependence on her younger sibling for so much seeming simply wrong, taken without permission or right and asking so much. Still at that moment she could not deny that she needed the balm of her sister’s company, to be freed to chat and laugh and smile without the need of a mask. This need was magnified as the two had not seen much of each other for some time, with the business of court keeping Celestia far too occupied and then leaving her entirely drained by the end of her day. At the best of times it often felt like the two of them inhabited very different worlds by the necessity of their duties, but of late it felt like she had been ignoring the largely nocturnal alicorn; yet another thing for her to feel guilty for.

Celestia was coming to the end of the last entry hall; approaching a final ornate double doorway which led into the throne room, and she hoped the end of her search. Her day had felt “long” but now it was actually stretching beyond its regular limits, it being well past the time that the moon should have taken the stage in the sky. Luna however had not materialised, not being in her room (another tiny bastion in the enormity of palace’s confines), leading the Sun on an intrigued and as yet unsuccessful quest to find her.

As the Princess of the Sun reached the throne room’s door she sensed an aura of magic on its other side, perhaps a little more prominent than usual but still recognisable, bringing with it an overstated sense of relief. Celestia’s mind switched track to considering all that she had to say, foremost of which were a fair few apologies, beginning happily as she opened the portal: ‘Hey Lulu!’ Nopony returned the greeting and in fact nopony appeared at all, leaving the alabaster alicorn confused as she strode further in. Still the aura persisted though from somewhere deeper within the chamber, somewhere unseen at its shadowy back. ‘Lulu?’

The air seemed dirty, thick with chalk dust along with the dual scents of old tomes and fresh ink, this fustiness giving the room an age even beyond its more than considerable real one. This was largely unsurprising bearing in mind the place was a library, a tall circle of blackboards having been floated to its centre, dominating the reading space at its nexus. Within these dusty palisades was set a single round table, itself covered in an avalanche of paper, parchment and books, at which sat the building’s latest resident.

Twilight Sparkle was seated in a high-backed chair, in a violet corona of her own magic, her face buried in the latest in a long series of dense tomes. All at the same time she telekinetically flicked through the pages in front of her, whilst simultaneously elsewhere a pen and several sticks of chalk worked in tandem to rationalise her thoughts. Together these created a haze of dancing lights all around, like a swarm of purple fireflies, giving her setting a serene air despite the evident chaos of her study. This was broken in an instant as she finally closed her present book, unintentionally slamming its covers shut with more force than she intended, sending a sharp *crack!* about the room. The sudden noise succeeded in fracturing her focus, drawing her back into the world of the living where she just about managed not to drop everything in her telekinetic grip.

Returned to reality Twilight found herself crushed beneath the weight of timeless hours, a wide yawn consuming her face. She was forced to stretch; her form working out kinks she had not realised had formed throughout her being, slumping back down deeper in her seat immediately after. A second broad yawn forced itself across her features as her gaze wandered wearily between the shelves, eventually reaching a distant window and the fresh surprise of a darkened night sky beyond. The light of her magic was in fact she realised the only illumination in evidence, clouds veiling the outside ether, darkness within having pounced unnoticed all around. This was however by a long way not the first time that her inquisitiveness had gotten the better of her timekeeping, and she moved quickly to spark up the room’s candles, swiftly spreading a cosy orange glow.

With a degree of effort the lavender unicorn rose to her hooves, indulging in a further elongated stretch as she did so. In spite of her various aches however, actual tiredness was not her companion, nor had it been for the last week or so in fact, none of which was exactly fair. On her arrival in Ponyville (not that long ago) she had been able to diagnose this restlessness as symptomatic of her abrupt change in scene: new home, new acquaintances, new daily routine, etcetera. But this initial unsureness had swiftly vanished. In truth she probably preferred Golden Oak far better than her abode back in Canterlot, if for nothing else than for the greater age of much of the library’s collections. At the same time although her studies in friendship were still young, she had grown quickly close to the five case studies found by fate on arrival. In the light of this obvious evidence therefore she had sensibly scrapped her first hypothesis and instead determined that something else was (for want of a better term) “bugging her”. A good deal of mind sifting and a fair few ventures into self-psychoanalysis later and she had reached a fresh if unclear new conclusion: she seemed to have Princess Luna on her mind.

Twilight turned about, moving to interrogate the first of the blackboards, whilst levitating the largest stack of her notes to her side. Annoyingly, although she had seemingly struck upon the cause of her “off-ness”, she was still none the wiser as to exactly why. She was therefore left with only the one present course of action: to research everything that she could dig up on the Princess of the Night, both an easy and not so easy feat in a repository of Golden Oak’s scale. This explained her body’s weariness, the anarchy of her working surroundings and the loss of the day outside. She had gleaned all she could from the stacks, considering history, mythology and a myriad of other topics of vague relevance to the dark alicorn, searching for her every mention, although in truth they were few. Logically her answer had to be somewhere in amongst all this work, she just had to find it.

So, let’s take stock of what you’ve actually got.

‘Okay’ she nodded definitively, on her mind’s command approaching the first of the backboards with an air of mission. ‘Princess Luna: younger sister to Princess Celestia, obviously’ she began, taking in the sea of white scibbles. ‘Her official title is Princess of the Night, responsible for, again obviously, running Equestria during the night-time and dreams. Erm… she’s an alicorn’ the lavender unicorn attempted, without any real confidence in the observation.

We’re preferably looking for something you didn’t already know, or isn’t glaringly obvious!

‘Erm…’ Twilight paused, skimming through the rest of the board’s contents, finding only further empty details about the other mare. These went so far as to make approximations at height, which even she could accept was a tad on the creepily obsessive side. Still the point of alicornhood had struck some chord within her. Like Celestia Luna was basically ancient and equally likewise hardly betrayed it in her form. There was something different about the two of them however. Whereas the older sister bore with her a timelessness, very much the permanent mother figure both to her kingdom and her faithful student, the younger’s age and experience seemed to loom larger in her comparatively youthful form. It was like Twilight was for some reason comparing the navy alicorn’s years to her own and in them finding a more than sizeable difference, like a separating void.

Perhaps making a note of your responses to these stimuli would be helpful?

The unicorn added the thought to a list of secondary avenues for investigation she had pre-emptively begun, moving on to the next in the line of boards. This one’s focus was on the topic most prominent in all she had read: the princess’ long banishment. Although this was well discussed however, there was a striking lack of consensus on the subject, for the most part being purely theoretical conjecture based in the considerable mythology built up around the event. For example: nopony could agree on what exactly had happened to the Lunar Princess, debates ranging from the physical manifestation of jealousy to possession by some unknown monster in explaining her nightmare form. Their one uniting feature though was an accusatory tone, blaming Luna by various degrees for whatever had happened, an image hard to square with that of the recently returned alicorn fallen at her sister’s hooves.

Maybe that’s it: you feel responsible because you had a hoof in bringing her back; you want to help her.

‘Maybe.’ True the scene of Luna collapsed and tearful (forced on repeat in her mind’s eye) was unpleasant, catching sorely against an emotional nerve, but at the same time its associated thoughts were surreal. Despite knowing that she was far beyond anypony’s gaze, Twilight still found herself reprimanding her own grandiose illusions: that the Princess of the Night was in any need of help from a mere student. A sense of inadequacy rose up from nowhere within her, accompanied by the return of the gulf there seemed to be between them.

Attempting evasion and to keep her focus the lavender unicorn moved on, but immediately faltered to a confused halt. Initially her chalky writing followed dutifully in the wake of the preceding boards, getting a third of a way down in neat columns before the author’s concentration obviously shifted elsewhere and turned to sketching. Twilight was no artist but her magic, evidently working from her subconscious, had filled in any gaps in her aptitude, depicting clearly what had been on constant replay in her head. The tall slender form of Princess Luna stood in an exploding corona of energy, set in a confident upright pose a second before it had vanished into soft regretful tears. Even in facsimile the alicorn’s gaze, in the star-studded frame of its owner’s ethereal mane, absorbed its viewer. In the depths of Luna’s irises everything stopped, forced to an unsure pause with baited breath, as time stilled at the edge of some unseen chasm.

A sharp gasp split the settled silence, followed immediately after by a quick series of short laboured inhales. Their owner had sat straight up on reflex, further hunching over into a defensive ball, her wings unfurled and curled up about her like a cocoon. She held herself tight, her crossed forehooves clutched to her sides, gradually willing her breathing back under control. Darkness pervaded within and without, her vision like her being forced suddenly and violently awake before receding back into the shadows. Beyond the embrace of the quilt the cold air pinched at her, the discarded sheets losing their residual warmth as she remained in stillness.

For some time she lingered as this statue, channelling an absence which unfortunately had not preceded her. Eventually however, once sure that nopony beyond her had stirred, she let her eyelids slowly open. The world was dark, its forms veiled and fluid, consisting more of what she remembered was present than what she could actually see. Against this her horn quietly ignited, enwrapping the curtains she knew covered the room’s one window in a silvery aura, teasing a crack in them open. Light did not pour in, rather it trickled, the midnight sky of the world outside masked by clouds. This was a small mercy; in that moment her being preferred the gentle shade to the bludgeon of any revealing brightness.

You can’t hide from me.

Almost timidly she swung her hind legs from the bed, unsteadily finding her hoofing in a moonlit puddle. She rose and then moved in tiny increments, feeling like a trespasser, seeking to disturb nothing in the settled realm of the room. In this way she crossed a few barely visible steps, the chill of the night air biting through her fur alongside the icy grip of something more. In every movement she felt scrutinised, closely pursued, something stalking her just at the edges of her sight as her muted hoof-falls stopped before a wall length mirror.

I’ll always find you, no matter how far you run.

The being which met her in the looking glass was a tired one, drained and without lustre. A darkened face stared back out at her, deep furrows knotted in her frowning brows, silently judging her mirrored image. The ethereal fields of her mane were likewise lacking, caught in alien lifelessness and devoid of her stars. Without them she looked ashen, navy form faded to black. ‘No, I’m better now, all that there was, is behind me.’

Behind you maybe, but still here.

Although she wished it otherwise the shadow of a visage in the polished surface was a familiar one, loaded down with a weight of guilty memories. ‘No! That’s not me anymore; you’re not me anymore!’ In defiance to her whispered hissing however, a set of fangs grinned out from the pooling blackness above her twin’s shoulder, glowing at the back of the mirror. ‘I don’t need you and I will not be your puppet! Begone!’

You’re not fooling anypony you know: neither yourself or your sister, and most definitely not her. You’re damaged, broken, and I fill in the gaps; I make you whole. Your edges are still fractured though and all they can do is wound. How long until you inevitably hurt her, if of course you haven’t done so already?

‘No! Please… please just begone…’

Anger

‘How could you?! Traitor!’

The Sun was aglow, a white heat rolling through every inch of her frame, all taught sinews and too tight flesh. Within she burned, a bellowing furnace ignited at her core and consuming all besides in its inferno. Without, this inner chaos erupted violently to the surface, drawing her visage back into a contorted snarl, whilst the rest of her being became an aggressively coiled spring, awaiting release. It hurt; it all hurt so much, blistering her every inch as a mass of scars. Most of all though these fires licked against her heart, scourged, leaving it leaden as if physically ruptured and now a dead weight.

‘I thought of everypony you were the one, the only one, I could trust, and yet you’ve turned your back on your duty, Equestria and me! For what? Pride, ambition, or something darker? Why?!’

The world was dark and fractured, showered in fragments of shattered glass and fallen masonry, a black sun raised in the sky like a gaping hole. Everything was cast into darkness, tinged lustreless in shadows. In this non-light only a maw of bared fangs could glimmer, glinting as they cackled at her. Above these jaws two azure orbs similarly shone out with stolen light, flames dancing behind a nocturnal predator’s slashed pupils. Its eyes were hungry harbingers, in the same way the room’s desolation was, in looking devouring, sucking all brightness from their world. They were cold set against her fire, screaming an intrinsic threat against all of creation; a creation over which she watched and safeguarded, which it was her purpose to protect.

‘Traitor!’

About the Sun six stars whirled in orbit, bleeding their stained lights into their sovereign. Her flames bloomed brighter, stoked by each of these beams, becoming a pure torch of angry energy. Fetterless it broke forth in a single merciless ray, tearing like lightening through the air, instantly poisoned by the thick scent of ozone. It struck hard, whiting out its dark target and all else in a single explosive pulse. When this dissipated only a plume of slowly settling dust was left in its place, deathly quiet replacing the preceding roar.

Princess Celestia awoke in the silence as it swiftly fell all around. She herself was the loudest thing in existence, her body heaving as it recognised its own exhaustion, until then wholly deaf to it. Her frame ached, both joints and muscles overstretched in kind. In a word she felt empty, her all thrown blindly at something veiled by a red mist, from which she was now emerging. Wreckage of one form or another lay all around, the throne room distorted beyond its former glory, every surface given a coating of crystal shards. These glittered in the light of the night sky, shining through a vast hole broken behind the thrones themselves, one toppled whilst the other stood alone. Everywhere else was marred by blackened scorch lines, evidence of the magical melee which had ensued, the floor pockmarked by similar craters.

The solar sovereign’s gaze panned upward, meeting the moon set uncontested in the ether, new darkened patches almost forming a face on its surface. ‘Lulu… I-I’m…’

*Thump!*

An exasperated huff followed immediately in the wake of the base note of face hitting open pages. Both noises echoed noticeably, magnified in the emptiness of the library’s stacks. A lone lavender unicorn left her head sunk in the tome on the desk before her, bringing her hooves up to rub her temples, attempting to massage her ailing brain within. Twilight compartmentalised, it was very much her modus operandi, identifying and segregating problems so as to mount a concerted attack against them. At the same time this gave everything in her life its place. In this way she had never met an insurmountable foe, her dependably analytical mind able to best anything thrown at her. Everything that was until now. Having suffered a defeat (though majorly put out by this she was mare enough to admit that she had failed) she had decided to change strategy, for once taking up some of Rainbow’s advice: to ‘just ignore the problem and let it handle itself’. This too however so far had not worked, distraction seeming ever just out of reach, much to her exponentially flaring annoyance.

‘Why the buck can’t I get her out of my head?!’ Her words went to nopony beyond herself, the question having by now become a more than tiresome one. Quite literally countless (or at least lost) days mulling it over had achieved exactly squat, only really managing to make the query seem staled, her mind left inescapably hanging as a result. In this state it took her a minute to notice her own uncharacteristic vulgarity, in spite of her solitude turning pink and catching her mouth with a hoof in response, ever the self-conscious pupil. This quickly departed however, lost to her unrelenting inner aggravation. ‘For buc… goodness' sake!’

Thumping the table before her, she rose abruptly to her hooves in the same instant. Rather than succumbing to pacing (another thing that she had recently fallen into doing far too often) she instead managed to resist this urge and made directly for the nearest bookshelf. She levitated a basket of disordered tomes to her side, the action as much as her definitive strides in reality an act, aiming to trick her mind. Reordering the few removed books, turned to reorganising a whole stack, becoming a whole row and quickly half of Golden Oak Library’s contents was afloat in the air.

What do you think Luna’s doing now?

‘Damn it!’

*Thud!*

As one every single book in flight crashed back to earth, falling in the face of a rank of images which accompanied her inner voice’s innocent question. Foremost as always amongst them was the Princess of the Night resplendent in a corona of residual energy, her mane whipped by the gusts of a dissipating blast, windswept and totally absorbing.

*Thud, thud, thud*

Twilight slammed her head three times in slow succession against the corner of a set of shelves, reduced to trying this blunt approach at exorcism. Unsurprisingly it did not work. The worst parts of this were one: she felt powerless, and two: she felt stupid, neither of which the unicorn was particularly accustomed to, let alone the underlying alien feelings which constituted the greatest distraction.

Well and truly fed up, her gaze departed, drifting outward through the panes of the library’s front windows. The small scene which met her on the other side was one of two walking together in line, an orange earth mare and a cyan pegasus (choosing uncharacteristically to relinquish the use of her much treasured wings), both well known to their unseen viewer. Occasionally it could seem like every second word that either AJ or Rainbow spoke was something about one another, always in constant obsessive competition. They were therefore quick to boast of success, throw down a fresh challenge or crack a joke at their adversary’s expense. Even now the pair of them were obviously trying to push each other’s buttons, in the midst of a rapid verbal dual, but each time they made a successful strike both rather than one of them burst into laughter.

Maybe this is a friendship thing then?

‘Maybe…’

‘I banish you!’

A huge blast broke outward in the dust, throwing up a thick wall of greyish debris and cracking open a deep crater, just one more in a landscape already littered with holes. Drowning out any explosive noise though, there was a roar; low, sharp and guttural as it bellowed forth from the depths of the clouds. Wordless the booming voice was only violence and hatred, being cast beyond all else, seeking to force its weight of loathing onto any and all who might hear it. Nopony did however, all its bloody intent falling flat before the mark. As the chaotic veil began to drift away it came to an end, its source emerging through these curtains of floating rock in a hardened silence.

The shadowy figure (almost jet black save for the lone crescent emblazoned on its flank, and therefore next to invisible against the background of the ether) walked in sharp movements, driven, although it was unclear where in the featurelessness it aimed for. Its hoof-falls were consciously heavy, stomping their way across the already jagged surface, leaving imprints in their wake so as to claim something for their own. There was no other target but the ground for its searing rage and so it was forced to pretend, lashing out with armoured hooves as if the rocks it fractured were in fact bone and the dampness painted across its face was blood…

Blood?

It paused at this realisation, cocking its head to one side, intrigued. In stopping its momentum continued, carrying a few drops of water away from the corners of its azure eyes. Its fangs flashed, its face forming drawn back in a growl. No blood, no satisfying crimson spatters to decorate its visage, but only staining weakness and remnants to blemish it. It shook itself, shivering, and then it charged, relentless as if in flight with eyelids screwed tightly shut. Again its roar was long and loud, but again equally the surrounding void simply swallowed it all, bringing it to an abrupt hollow stop.

A sphere met its waking vision, warm and welcoming in a mix of crystal blues and lush greens, striking it within with a needy desire. Silver crackled from its horn, devouring everything in a brilliant flash. Nothing happened; it remained exactly where it was. Its wings extended wide, leaping aloft in a single downward beat, making for its target. All stopped as it slammed headlong into an invisible barrier, reduced to a heavy freefall back to the ground. Landing roughly on its back, hot pain spiking through its frame, it could only stare back at all that was denied it. ‘I banish you!’1

Author's Note

References:
1) Coriolanus by William Shakespeare (Act 3, Scene 3, Line 121)

Bargaining

‘So, to review: all forces of the Lunar Guard agree to continue their assigned duties’ the voice of an elderly bespectacled stallion droned, in part reading from the extensive parchment levitated before him. ‘This shall entail the maintenance of night-time patrols and their garrisons in Tartarus, speaking of which: said facility and its inmates will remain as their charge…’

‘On the condition that our sovereign be returned with immediacy after the term of her “prescribed” banishment’ a gruffer voice butted in. Like the preceding unicorn it broke in on, its speaker was beginning to show his age, oak coloured fur starting to grey at its edges. In contrast however the night pegasus held himself (even though seated) in a primed stance, his static armoured form coiled and defensive. ‘We shall not neglect our oaths just so long as the Princess of the Sun does not forget hers. We also repeat the demand that we want our opinions of this matter to remain on record: that we condemn in the strongest terms the extrajudicial prosecution of our royal mistress, and that it is only for our loyalty to Equestria and to her to whom we are forsworn that we do not press our objections… “further”.’

Murmurs of agreement went around one half of the council table, it and its furniture dominating much of the darkened chamber, its curtains closed for the benefit of the nocturnal one’s present. They made up one side of the room’s number, set apart in the segments of their armoured shells, the bat-like wings at their sides and their predatory eyes, more feline than equine in appearance. Most wore fur in some manner of greyish camouflage, above this and their steely carapace clothed in navy tunics emblazoned with a crescent moon in silver. Their counterparts sat opposite sported less imposing attire, mostly dressed in some form of poorly fitting suit, with golden pins denoting their title and office set in their lapels. These obvious courtiers equally carried themselves differently, adopting either a slumped nonchalance or hunched timidity in the face of their glaring military opposites.

Only their eldest defied this trend, his teal eyes behind his spectacles conveying only blank, refusing to be bullied and at the same time not needing to try and exert his own dominance. ‘Yes yes this has all been put into the record commander, which shall be binding to all signatories and their associated parties’ he continued, politically letting the interruption slide. ‘Is there anything further that anypony feels has not been fully elucidated or needs raising, clarifying or changing?’ Receiving only silence in reply he concluded: ‘then I invite you all to make your mark against our accord.’

At the nominal head of proceedings Celestia sat, watching two duplicates of the now long debated document begin their circuit around the gathering, accompanied by both inks and quills. In truth she had steadily lost all focus she had maybe originally had at the start of the meeting, retreating ever further back as it went on. Bearing in mind how it had begun, as toxic verbal salvoes and anger being fired across the table (largely shot from the ranks of the Lunar Guard’s corner), this was probably a blessing. She after all had no reasonable defence to set against them, they having all the vindication in the world behind their cutting criticisms, whilst, though paling in comparison to her inner voice’s condemnation, their words stung at her. She was wrong, they were right and that was it, their scowls painful in their reminder of what she had done to incur them. She had ignored what was before her, making any wrong which had come of it her doing alone, with no right to punish the one she had in so grand a fashion.

For now though her focus was elsewhere, caught up in the empty chair at the other end of the table. Its presence had been one of the heavier stipulations insisted by her sister’s soldiers in order to bring them to negotiation, so how could she have possibly refused? The threat of rebellion in their ranks had been a very real one, flaring almost as soon as news of the banishment spread, which if looking for a silver lining in everything highlighted their loyalty. In any case getting them here and averting a civil war had been the most important thing, even if the Sun had found the price of achieving this next to unbearable.

The uninhabited seat in no uncertain terms screamed at her, as if a ghost remained in the void it represented. She was her younger self and in its place a younger little sister sat, both of them bored to tears in training for court life. They shared a look, each rolling their eyes in unison; meanwhile all around unhearing bureaucrats debated the intricacies of petitioning and etiquette for their education. She pulled a face, forcing the other sibling to suppress a giggle. Quickly this descended into a competition, each trying to force the other into laughter, whilst simultaneously trying to avoid detection. Soon together they failed, falling into uncontrollable giggling, only spurred further as disapproving glowers fell upon them.

In reality two documents finally reached the end of their circle, deposited before Celestia, their last required signatory. All else was fluid, her name and seal joining those others already set down on the sheets. What followed were polite exchanges in departure, unavoidably awkward as all had been to some degree at each other’s’ throats not so long ago. One night mare stood out, shooting fiery daggers back over her shoulder from her crimson irises, then everypony was gone and the Sun was set alone with her thoughts.

How could you?

Slowly Celestia got to her hooves and even slower she crossed the empty room, coming to a stop next to the furniture which had been haunting her. ‘I had to, it was…’

Did you, did you really?

‘Yes, she…’

Really? So there was no other path open to you then, nothing else you could have done?

The princess let out a sigh, reaching out a tentative hoof to the vacant chair’s back, but in the end recoiling just at the last moment. She instead turned and moved on, feeling the call of her solar charge beyond the chamber’s windows. In a golden glow she raised the heavy blinds, letting in the tide of tired rays held at their back. Outside, far beyond the palace’s walls, Canterlot was in the midst of winding down, most of the capital’s inhabitants making their way homeward in anticipation of the coming evening. ‘I did it for them, all of them, just as I always have and always must. They are all my responsibility and I only acted to protect them.’

But what of Luna, were you not supposed to be her protector too? Who pray tell was supposedly the older sister?

A gold gilding of magic pulsed back into Celestia’s horn, the innocuousness of the action masking the feat she performed. Foregoing the ceremony of her balcony stage, she quietly bedded her sun down below the horizon, drawing up the moon to take its place. ‘I didn’t mean to okay! I was tired and surprised, we fought and I saw red. I was angry and it just happened, I…’

No answer cut in on the princess’ silent thoughts, merely they just petered out, no interjection required to pierce the emptiness of her excuses. Her view was filled with a moon in full bloom, as both unmissable prison and monument high in the sky, glaring down into her. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’

A tightly scrunched ball of paper sailed through the air in a neat and well perfected arc, propelled by a spark of purple magic to land in an overflowing waste basket. Briefly it joined the mountain of its equally crumpled kin before tumbling from the peak of their unstable mound, falling to the floor, littered with a great many more similar discards. Maintaining its momentum and still in motion it managed to roll all the way back to its starting position, finally stopped as it bumped into a chair leg, on which sat the one who had originally thrown it away.

Seated at her bedroom’s desk Twilight slumped, her head kept upright by a stabilising forehoof, looking down on a fresh blank sheet of parchment before her. She was by now onto her second quill, the first having given out from overwork, a collection of inkwells also set to one side, drained almost to empty. For all this obvious work it was slightly depressing to have no fruits to show for her labours, but then again she took some consolation from the fact that she was trying to juggle a superabundance of variables. She had been and was still attempting to make a list, her general coping mechanism for life’s hurdles, the tactic having served her well previously against a plethora of foes. This one however was proving most resistant to being reduced to stages, to be confidently followed and checked off in turn. She remained determined though, having convinced herself that the issue had to be overcome, if for no other reason to free up the space it was occupying in her mind.

The problem is trying to produce some structure applicable to any possible social situation.

Taking a deep breath the lavender unicorn took up her pen once more, set to working as she thought aloud. ‘Okay, starting again: stage one, or rather stage zero. Zero, for now, remains a floating and unknown variable, consisting of our next meeting, at least until a means of engineering one can be established. Zero is therefore the prime mover, setting in motion further stages, but also covers all preparation which can be made in the meantime.’ The only part of this which made it to the page was a large starting nought.

To reiterate: this needs to be closer to a rubric than vague pontification, otherwise it won’t help.

‘Zero is about first real impressions then, which must necessarily be flawless, requiring that I conduct myself at all times impeccably in turn until then. This is essential because, as previously stated, I don’t know when I’ll next see her.’

So in short you need to act and look perfect all the time. No pressure!

‘After this then stage one: small talk…’

Which you’re so good at after all!

‘…to break the proverbial ice.’ Twilight frowned. It was true small talk really was not her forte, always seeming clumsy and forced to say the least. Her brain was simply not very adept at slipping into a passive role and making empty enquiries; it just felt wrong. Making a mental note that stage one would require further pre-emptive practice, she continued: ‘and then stage two… erm…’

Friendship… somehow.

Here was where the plan fell down, stumbling a few more paces further in a couple of previous incarnations, but always inevitably succumbing. From the outset it was hard to try and convert the objective of “friendship” into a workable equation, but as she had continued to ponder the issue she had begun to question whether this was even the end her weirdly on edge psyche wanted. When dispatched to Ponyville and ordered in no uncertain terms to make friends she had not felt nearly as stressed about the idea, summing it all up with but a single tick box to be completed. Equally absent at that time was the need that she now had. Although then she had been preoccupied with the prospect of Nightmare Moon’s return the difference was still stark, unhelpfully so.

Let me out.

A shadowy figure stalled in its path, scrabbling to retain its hoofing in the loose dirt of the lunar surface, gripping its guts as its back arched. ‘Now now, play nice’ it grimaced through obvious pain, clutching its sides tighter in falling to its haunches on the cusp of a small crater. Its words evidently went unheard however, being forced to keel forward, any further resistance cut off by coughing.

Let me out!

Viscous bile rose up from within, coursing its way through the creature’s throat, acid scourging every inch as it went. The figure shook violently as it retched into the hole, armoured adornments thrown away from its form in the process, silver segments cascading into the newly formed pool of muck.

Luna awoke spluttering on the lip of a crater, black liquid churning not far below. Her every nerve ending screeched, made infinitely sensitive in their long absence, making her almost a stranger in her own stinging being. With a forehoof she wiped her sored mouth, holding herself in a tightened grip as she tried to regulate her ragged breathing, attempting reassurance. ‘Is… is that it?’

‘Not quite my dear, not quite.’ Below the exiled Princess of the Night the fluid in the base of the crater surged together, coagulating in a single mass, looking like liquid shadow. It pooled beneath the shell of a discarded helm, forming a face within as it was raised upward, the rest of it picking up other pieces of armour as if donning them in turn. Quickly an inky creature took the murky puddle’s place, in a flash leaping from the pit, with wings in a flap landing it gently on the other side. It took a seat, shooting a fanged grin to its alicorn opposite across the void. ‘To elucidate a little further on your needless question however’ it began, ‘I’m still very much here; I wouldn’t desert you so readily.’

The former princess’ realm was an empty one, grey and featureless, devoid of anything or anypony save for the mere unwanted facsimile staring her down. ‘Haven’t you already done enough damage, why can’t you just leave me be?’

‘Now why would I possibly want to do that, and why for that matter would you want to be rid of me?’

‘Why? Why?!’ Luna’s tone swiftly became angered shouts, falling an easy victim to her adversary’s nonchalance. ‘You mean aside from attacking Tia, threatening the whole realm, getting me banished, and in return giving nothing which was promised! You’re right, how could I possibly desire to be rid of you?!’

‘If I might interject’ the thing came in calmly, entirely unconcerned by its opposite’s outburst, ‘I offered you power and together we had it in swathes. As far as anything else is concerned, you have nopony to blame but yourself for your lack. If you had shut your pretty little mouth for a bit, I wouldn’t have hesitated, Sunbutt could have been dealt with and we wouldn’t have ended up here. Your nerve failed you, not me. We could have had it all were it not for your cowardice!’

‘Why stay then? If I’m the weak link here, why not just take your leave and go? Just go!’ Luna yelled back, force however blunted as her desperation was there audibly beneath her rage. ‘Just go!’

‘What sort of a friend would I be if I did that; leaving you in your hour of greatest need.’ The creature remained flippant, pleading mock hurt at the accusations levelled against it, then turning to sniggering.

‘Buck off!’

‘Oh come on now, it’s a bit late in the day to be discovering your fighting spirit you know! Besides, how exactly were you planning on being rid of me? I am after all a part of you.’

‘That’s not true…’

‘The best parts I might add.’

‘No!’

‘Well what do you bring to the table hmmm? I bring you strength and power, I excise your weakness! Am I not therefore your only worthwhile characteristics? Your one saving grace might be your ambition, though in truth it would’ve starved without me, without my will to give it flight to soar!’

‘No!’ Luna repeated her interjection, raising her angry voice still louder, adding further: ‘you are not any part of me!’

‘Denial won’t get you anywhere, so how about we try a little honesty with one another? We’re both adults and certainly close enough to be truthful.’

‘No…’

‘Yes. Don’t try and tell me that I haven’t always been there, because I know I have, and you know it too, no matter what you might tell yourself.’ The twinned creature’s azure eyes flashed, scar-like pupils narrowing thinner, like a predator’s drinking in an approaching kill. ‘As I’ve already said I’m there in your ambition, but more than that I’m there in your jealousy, your constant want to be more than the Sun’s shadow. But what are you other than a shadow? I’m there in every intrinsically darkened part of your being. Even now I’m in your loathing!’

‘Enough!’ Luna screamed, voice rolling away in a shock wave, carrying before it a plume of dust in all directions. In the same moment her horn ignited with silvery flames, instantly hurling it away as an arc of pulsating light. Only a smouldering crater remained where her demon had been sat taunting her, grey dirt scorched stark black. She waited a moment and then a moment more, hopin
g against hope to be gifted with silence.

Nice try, but I’m still very much here. I’ll always be here.

Despair

The harsh rays of the noontime sun fell heavily on the imperial capital of Canterlot, seemingly focusing them solely upon the citadel at the city’s heart, leaving its pure white walls aflame. Amongst the palace’s many bejewelled turrets a single tower stood out prominent, therefore left most exposed to this siege. From its side a balcony jutted out, a stage high above the court and courtyards far below, tall glass doors leading to the realm within. Across this podium the light beams charged, battering against its closed panes, demanding that they yield to their entrance. Inside however thick curtains stood firm against the assault, holding the breach mostly firm, save for the tiniest crack at their centre. Although small however, this was still enough to be a noisy invasion, at full tilt striking the bed set central in the chamber and the lone occupant enwrapped by its covers.

Celestia huffed as she rolled onto her back, feeling the lash of her charge’s burning fingers. Her tired eyes fluttered open in increments, pierced by stark white with each movement, blinking away dancing stars. She was too hot, proof that her being had laid corpse-like and still. Despite this she had been denied sleep, again, her mind’s tumult chaotic in antithesis to her form. She could not however raise the will to summon up her magic and seal the fissure in the curtains’ veils, nor move any further than throwing off her copious sheets. Instead she remained sunk on the mattress, caught and pinned under the sun’s glow, but unmoving to save herself from it.

The princess’ gaze was her only part which felt remotely capable of action, therefore letting it rove, exploring a world already too well known. The bedroom was not truly a mess, but rather unkempt, much like the sovereign herself. On each side of her, stood on the pair of her bedside tables, a pile of tea trays loomed, formed from the remnants of many a solitary meal. An equally crazy totem formation had grown to cover her desk, rolled parchments spilling from the surface’s edge in a dense mound, their crimson seals unbroken. Everywhere else was simply lacking, left to slip beneath the usual standards of its grandeur, gold embellishments unpolished and lacking lustre. Her royal jewellery was in this state scattered, dropped and left unceremoniously before her dressing mirror, unworn for some time.

It’s been a week, one bucking week in an eternity of others still to pass, so get up and get over it!

The week had been “long” from its inception, only seeming to stretch all the further the longer it went on. Quickly it had grown to be infinite, as but one in an unending gauntlet of others. Like a mere foal, retreat had been her only response, from which she had yet to return in spite of the ever growing calls for her to do so. Each day the regular hoard of courtiers and petitioners came clamouring at her door, demanding an audience only to be turned away by her gold clad sentries, for whose loyal vigilance she was ever more grateful.

You can’t just remain here like this, eventually you’re going to have to return and the longer you leave it the harder it’s going to get.

‘But why bother?’ Celestia thought back. ‘What’s the point?’ The already ancient alicorn had no illusions, she was well aware of her own foalishness, but in this she felt trapped. The more she dwelt on her crime the more heinous it became, the more its weight of guilt pressed against her heart and the less she wanted to bear the crown, feeling unfit for the commanding circlet. At the same time her inner self was right: the longer she remained immobile the worse she in turn felt, adding the abandonment of her subjects to her list of failures. In this way she was caught; one self-reproach cyclically begetting others, descending in a viscous spiral. It struck at her every drawn out day, each time she was forced to fulfil her sister’s duty in her stead in raising the moon, always cutting deep like a fresh wound from which there was no escape.

The carved portal of an oaken doorway swung open in a violet corona. A figure followed in her magic’s wake, form disguised under a long trailing cloak and pointed hat, bells affixed to its rim frantically jingling in transit. She made no pause on the threshold, not waiting to hear the door’s closure at her back, set on a straight path through the maze of the library’s shelves. Swiftly she whisked her way between their ranks, making for the very back of their number, her steps switching to clicking as they hit a snaking staircase.

Twilight came to a halt as she finally reached the sanctuary of her bedroom, its curtains unhelpfully open and bathing the space in the moon’s pale light, as if the lunar body were gazing directly in at her window. In a flash of purple magic she drew them sharply closed, whilst at the same time roughly throwing off the pieces of her costume, letting her horn be the only illumination in place of anything else. A blue and star festooned cape, a matching hat with its further ringing adornments and a false beard each flew off in turn, collectively landing in a careless heap. Foregoing any further interruption, she threw herself towards the bed, collapsing into it before burrowing deeper to drown in its quilted recesses.

The lavender unicorn let out a sigh, burying her head in the pillows, further huffing ineffectually into them. Ostensibly the evening had been a resounding success, yet for some reason it felt far from it. The crumpled remains of her “checklist” (which had in fact morphed into an extremely complex flow diagram of stages, with a multitude of different colour-coded lists to fit its various different sections) was testament to this, part filled in but eventually left screwed up in one of her cape’s many pockets. She felt down, not crushingly so but still oppressively, not truly sad but nonetheless without. From this she drew back, very much needing the safe haven of her familiar cocoon of blankets.

There’s no reason for your melancholy. For all intents and purposes it went really well; the practicalities of your extensive written plan notwithstanding.

Her mind’s words were both rational and correct, yet despite these usually reassuring facets they had little impact. Nightmare Night had indeed been a success in a variety of ways, both big and small, most focused squarely on the evening’s patron: the Lunar Princess herself. Its beginning had been shaky, her detailed research into authenticating an effective likeness of Starswirl the Bearded falling on the deaf ears of her uncomprehending audience. This reaction (or lack of it) had initially put a major dampener on her spirits, a tad more than a little bit disappointed. Then however, Luna had made her surprise appearance, the event excising all encroaching shadows from the unicorn, even whilst most others in contrast timidly cowered.

For Twilight in memory the rest of the celebrations had passed in a rapid blur, undulating in crash dives between soaring elation and aching sadness, both interspersed with a fair amount of abject panic. On an admittedly petty level (but one her mind now seemed fixated) Luna had recognised her costume, the navy alicorn’s compliments despite their slight nature bringing a hot blush to her cheeks even now. In turn in antithesis to everypony else’s reaction to the “traditional Canterlot voice” she had found the princess’ failures in etiquette kind of cute in a weird way. These feelings however became their opposite, changing to pained sympathy at the alicorn’s flight and then growing worse on finding her on the cusp of tears before the statue of her nightmarish likeness. Twilight was well versed in feelings of social inadequacy, but the image of the other mare again collapsed and tearful struck her far deeper than simple sympathy. There had been a need, an all-consuming need, to do something, to fix the beautiful features creased by sadness. After this only more of the same, even dipping to become akin to anger at others continued fearful judgements (even Fluttershy’s), as if they grazed her core as much as Luna’s. Then finally there was a smile and the faintest happiness in understanding.

For the rest of Nightmare Night there was only joy, the younger unicorn celebrating in each and every further smile which graced the princess’ lips. From there on in there was little else until the present, as if her mind had recorded nothing beyond, deeming it all in contrast unimportant. But then it abruptly petered out, fading in Luna’s departure with a final warming, but in Twilight’s eyes far too short, embrace. An afterglow of events had for a while remained, setting her elatedly skipping homewards beneath the stars, all shining as if for only her. By the threshold though it was gone, dissipated, leaving her (in her own mind greedily and therefore guiltily) only wanting more. More of what was not clear, but simply more nonetheless.

The objective of your list was friendship, and in that you undoubtedly succeeded.

Twilight could not help but feel foalish in the face of these rational words. Still though she felt how she did, depressingly so, down without a clear way out. Drained on a variety of levels she drifted off into sleep, curling the covers tighter about herself, her subconscious forgettably in its final waking moments imagining she was in fact held in Luna’s wings.

‘Will I never be rid of you?’

All around, a world still strange to the one who sat surrounded by it, even the most basic of features seeming stark. The gnarled trunks of ancient trees stood tall around a clearing broken in their number, their tops swaying lightly in a breeze. This said same wind played across Luna’s fur, but here its touch seemed far rougher, sending its chill deep into her bones. High in the night-time sky mere slivers of her charge’s light broke through a thick cloud cover, doing nothing but cast the princess in shadows, crushed beneath a statue’s silhouetted form. A stony visage glowered down from above, solid, strong and stern, a monument whose subject she knew more intimately than anypony: her nightmare. In marked contrast her own face felt cold, cheeks streaked by the icy trails of tears, the weak antithesis to that of her opposing unmarred opponent.

This was not the first time by a stretch that the Princess of the Night had succumbed to crying since her return. Her tears had been guilty ones when faced down by the Sun and the Elements of Harmony incarnate, becoming only joyous in her sister’s embrace, after so long their hug alone going some way in curing her many wounds. These had flowed freer as time went on, pooling droplets accompanying her eyes in each reacquainted memory, everything illuminated by the fog lamps of still tender senses. Then there was pain again in loss, struck by a line-up of half familiar faces. In this respect the well overdue reunion with her Lunar Guard had been the hardest, many of their number bearing the features of those she had once known and called friends, by now long gone. As in all things what similarities which remained only made the differences far worse.

A shiver arced up Luna’s spine, her fur bristling. It was strange. She had for so long been alone in absence, but now when her exile was over and she was comparatively subsumed by company she still was trapped in loneliness. The evening so far passed had been an effective proof of the distance there stood between her and everypony else. She was an other, in whose presence all cowered, set apart in stuff even as basic as speech. As far as the world was concerned she remained in the twisted form of the demonic statue which overshadowed her, the monument’s very existence hammering this point home.

The navy alicorn brought a forehoof to her face, wiping away the darker patches beneath her eyes. She had once wished that she could go back and change each one of her many glaring mistakes, but such foalish fantasies had been eaten up by the emptiness of her lunar prison. Now however she just wanted to change herself; in a word she wanted to be better. She wanted back the love of her subjects, that tiny spark which she had cast aside in want of more, to be there as she always should have been and trusted in that duty. She wanted the Sun to know and see all this, and therefore through it to know that she was sorry. Although the older sister had already accepted her apologies, the other alicorn making her own needless confessions in return, if she could recapture some sliver of Tia’s pride then maybe she could accept them herself. More than everything else however, at the front of her mind another stood out for whom she wanted to be different.

When she had finally emerged from the depths of her long inhabited pit, taking her first tentative steps out from the darkness, the first thing to meet Luna’s gaze had been a pair of gleaming violet eyes. To her surprise they had not been Tia’s, instead belonging to a young lavender unicorn, the unknown mare carrying herself with a neatened prettiness and an unprepared smile. Weeks of conversations, rediscovering her lost world from within the palace walls, had then brought her a name: Twilight Sparkle. Initial intrigue already perked by her sister’s pupil (not least of all by the fact that her alicorn counterpart had chosen to take on another personal student at all), it had only been furthered the more she learned. It was for this perhaps that she had bowed to advice and made her first public appearance at Ponyville’s Nightmare Night, going against much of her better judgement.

The princess rose to her hooves, reaching out a forelimb to her twin as if she were testing its reality. Despite what others tended to read in her form, Luna was by no means as young as she looked. In her earlier years, before everything changed, there had been a few who she had let in to varying degrees, so she was aware that her interest in the other mare was probably just passing fancy, very much stoked by a millennia without. Still though, an allure was there. That evening as her carriage descended from the heavens it had been only Twilight who had not cowered away in fright. Even as she had failed miserably to garner anything other than further terror for her efforts, the unicorn had remained at her side, only seeming to want to help, although such kindness was probably just born of pity.

Luna’s head bowed, her forehoof falling back to the floor, fresh tears pricking at the corner of her vision. She wanted to be more; she wanted to elicit more, but the monument before her towered as a testament to what had happened the last time she indulged similar desires. It was like she was trapped on the wrong side of the glass, able to see and sense yet never grasp what lay so close on the other side. The feeling hurt like a wound. ‘Will I never be rid of you?’

‘Princess Luna?’

The sharp crunch of hooves on gravel from somewhere behind drew away the alicorn’s attention, turning her on the spot. Two violet eyes met Luna across the clearing, shining only timidly with a concerned light. Simultaneously their viewer was both touched and pained, drinking in the support they willingly gave, yet hating that she marred their viewer with anything but happiness.

Acceptance

Steps, only steps, sounding as two distinct sets within a multitude of rhythmic others following respectively behind. The first of the pair walked a steady pace, consciously slowed, calm and collected as they strolled to the click of their golden shoes. The second meanwhile was far more erratic, not quite able to keep in step, every so often breaking into a swifter trot to keep up. All other hooves meanwhile were as one, evidently trying as individuals to make themselves quieter, but prevented from anything close to muteness by their armoured forms.

Celestia let her movements remain slowed. There had and would always be the need to rush, torn constantly between the various palace departments or otherwise called to some crisis elsewhere, but for now her time was her own. When she had first got up the will to dig herself out from the mausoleum she had made of her bedroom everything, including her being, had been in antithesis. The world had been the court chamber, caught in only chaos as quite literal mountains of business were worked through, nopony besides herself seeming to have been able to make a single decision in her absence. Atop the throne she had simply sat, deliberated and commanded, nothing more, working merely mechanically and on instinct. Only when her bodyguards had stepped in (although in truth she could not remember having ordered them to do so) had this come to a halt, their commander reminding her of business elsewhere, whilst the rest formed a shield between herself and all others from their gold clad ranks.

The Sun in pausing to let the one at her side keep up a little easier, brought a forehoof to the royal jewellery yoked about her neck. It was not that she did not care, more in fact the opposite. She wanted to fix everything; for all in her realm to be gifted happiness. In of itself such a burden was immense, yet she had always born it, until a final straw had broken her back. The need for her to go on was hard to square with the guilt that she could not mend the one thing she was most desperate to.

But go on you must.

From the original chaos of court a picket of sentries (noticeably more so than normal, but again not on her order) had been her guides, and the princess had followed, drifting. Incapable of or not up to much more, she had let herself be led, more a mark of inattentiveness than trust. This path had eventually brought Celestia to one of the citadel’s many auditoriums, its seats filled with a mass of smiling colts and fillies, each one a hopeful entrant to her School for Gifted Unicorns. All her subjects were her children, she cared for them as any mother would, and in return their happy expressions made her feel like a guilty parent.

A small shape bumped into the Sun’s side, drawing her eyes downward, greeted by a lavender face tinged in embarrassed pink.

‘Sorry Princess…’ the filly attempted timidly, gaze falling likewise to the safer view of her own hooves, awkwardly shuffling.

Celestia shook her head with a warm smile on her lips, coaxing the young unicorn back up from the floor. ‘It’s fine Twilight, we’re almost there.’

They continued for a little further onward, making their way through the almost labyrinthine web of corridors which permeated the palace. Neither really felt the need of words, each simultaneously nervous and elated in their own way. A small distance behind them both, the unusually large contingent of the Solar Guard remained in attendance, drawing back enough to give privacy but still close. The soldiers collectively wore a blank slate of an aspect through their helms’ visors, features attempting to emulate their steely armour. Their sovereign however, herself (although not particularly of late) a master of concealment, saw through the disguise. They were concerned for their charge, something that was guiltily touching to her, appreciating better their presence.

Their steps stopped before one of the unending hallway’s many side doors, ornately carved and therefore nondescript like the rest. As it opened in a golden glow though, so too did the openness beyond it within. Tessellated panels formed one wall entirely of glass, leaving the turret room afloat as if set in the sky, whilst all others were formed of bookshelves reaching as high as the far off ceiling. A circling balcony ran around the space’s edge, interlinked by a bridge across its middle, marking the point between two floors which the enormous room actually straddled. Its little features however brought it back to earth: the long ruby drapes tucked at the window’s corners, a bed sat central, with further cosy furniture placed here and there, and even the books all around. Each of the tomes’ cracked spines, coloured in a rainbow of tones, spoke of care and use, lovingly chosen and preserved as opposed to decoratively placed. It was a palatial suite and library’s worth of knowledge essentially combined, yet in spite of this still managed to be homely and inviting.

The princess again looked down to her side, finding the lavender filly again shuffling in place, except this time in nervy anticipation as if about to receive a Hearth Warming’s Day present. Despite herself, Twilight took a tentative step forward, before glancing back over her shoulder. Continued smiles and an encouraging nod loosed the young unicorn into motion, skipping delightedly in exploration. The Sun meanwhile just beamed happily in at the threshold.

Not for the first time that day the Solar Princess was struck by déjà vu, accompanied by a disparate mixture of feelings. At the very least in her mind’s eye, there was a marked similarity between the purple form scampering about the bedroom and one dark navy not so long ago. The two were much of a muchness, an observation most obvious in Twilight’s quiet pride and celebrations in her earlier magical success, a near mirror image to Luna as she began to master her own powers. Familiarity was a reminder and therefore there was pain in it, but at the same time the memories were happy ones.

Celestia still had her regrets and for now they would remain, their weight her self-imposed punishment. This was no end however, and somehow she had to accept that, no matter how hard it was to do so. She would have to learn to live with it, if for no other reason for the sake of all those that relied on her. Although the feat seemed impossible, eventually she would have the chance to try and make amends. Until then though she would attempt to do so by proxy; lending herself to nurturing another so similar, so full of potential if given the chance to flourish. Perhaps through this she could be better; better as the older sister she had failed to be and maybe, just maybe, with that she could be content.

Well that was certainly eventful.

‘You can say that again.’

From on high the stars twinkled, shining their gentle light down on Canterlot. In many ways the evening was perfect, never a given bearing in mind the days which had preceded it, warmed and still. Closer inspection of the imperial capital would have revealed damaged blemishes in amongst its perfect buildings, but as things were nopony paid them any heed. The city and its inhabitants were understandably instead engrossed in celebration; a royal wedding was after all far from a regular event, not to mention salvation from an invasion by insectoid monsters believed to be long extinct. It was likely therefore that the various parties consuming many of the streets would continue long into the night. Things were no different inside the palace walls, a kaleidoscope of dancing colours blazing out through the great hall’s windows.

Set high above the streets below, on a pure white balcony stained technicolour by the world behind it; Twilight laid her head upon her forehooves. She let out a broad yawn, one that Rarity would have been sure to catch her on were she not beyond the prying eyes of the party within. “Eventful” was perhaps the nicest way she had yet heard the invasion of Equestria by love-sucking parasites described, but it was nonetheless fitting. Days of preparation and suspicion had begot a day of battle, in of itself a proverbial rollercoaster, leading into victory and therefore yet more preparation. All in all it had been “eventful”, for want of a better word. There had been fear, often raised up as sheer terror, she had seen her mentor falter and fall and her homeland brought to the brink of true catastrophe. For now therefore she was adrift, as if becalmed, tired and yet still on residual edge.

The lavender unicorn let her head stay rested on her forehooves, leant atop the balcony’s railing at its edge. Another weary yawn broke through her features. Tired was not the half of it, she was quite literally done, both mentally and physically. Even the silken nothingness of her dress felt heavy on her being, despite the pale pinkish garment’s minimalist construction, only embellished with a single star at its chest (a compromise with its extravagant creator who had wanted to adorn it with much more). There remained a great many questions left unanswered, subsumed in the motion blur of events, whilst at the same time impossibly through it all something was still nagging at the back of her mind. There was still somepony she had not yet got to see again, something which had brought her a great deal of foalish excitement in the prospect of visiting the imperial capital, as yet unfulfilled. ‘Well, at least everything came through in the end…’

‘Good evening Twilight Sparkle.’

Eep!

Internally Twilight’s mind failed to articulate anything other than a tongue-tied squeak, instantly recognising the imperious tone which greeted her. Turning (or more correctly stumbling round unsure on the spot) her vision met the alicorn it expected, except clothed in the pale blues of an evening gown, rolling like soft clouds about her slender navy form. Faced with this the mere student found her outward tongue as lacking as her inner one. ‘Erm… oh I… hi… I mean good evening your highness.’ Mentally she face-hoofed at her own awkwardness.

Luna in contrast seemed to much better embody courtly etiquette, giving a smile and a bowed nod in return, but remaining on the cusp of entrance. For a moment more the princess lingered between worlds, neither here nor there, pause breaking the confidence of her air. ‘We are… I-I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle, but may I join you for a while?’

‘Erm…’ Again Twilight faltered, although this time as if startled by a mirror, surprised in the other’s comparative timidity. ‘Please, by all means your highness.’

As always, your eloquence is awe-inspiring!

In rediscovering her voice proper, so too did her mind, but it had only critique to level in its words. As ever she was her own most vocal critic. This was little helped as her heart in tandem had leapt up from her chest.

‘Thank you’ the princess simply replied, still in politeness, but with something else betrayed behind her tones. By her junior’s words she was granted motion, drawing to her side with a respectful distance between. Silence swiftly fell amongst the pair, both stood and looking out from their shared precipice.

Say something!

‘Were you at the reception earlier majesty?’ Twilight began, seeking to chase away the noise of quiet. ‘I didn’t see you earlier?’

Luna’s ears twitched at the question, but she did not turn to face her enquirer. ‘Please, the titles are unnecessary, just Luna is fine. I’d much prefer you call me that.’ The princess remained looking straight ahead, an uncharacteristic pink hue however just visible on her cheeks as she made her request. ‘In answer: no I wasn’t, more’s the pity, so the “Invasion of Canterlot” as it’s being called can be listed as something else I’ve missed.’ In this her blush became a darkened frown, regretful, to her viewer’s displeasure. ‘For now I fill in for Tia, at least until the end of the festivities. My sister wishes you a goodnight by the way.’ Then all was silent again, only broken by the background noise of celebrations from behind them.

Something more would be good! Speak!

‘Your night is beautiful.’

Oh bravo!

The navy alicorn thanked with a smile, although her azure eyes ignored her ether, rather focused on the revelry below it. ‘Thank you, it’s nice to have the chance to share it with everypony.’ There was once more the threat of loaded quiet between them, stretched by the minds of those trapped in it beyond its meagre reality, until Luna chose to continue unprovoked. ‘I… I should pre-emptively apologise for what I’m about to say, I don’t mean to cast more of a shadow than I normally do, but I feel it needs saying anyway. I’m sorry…’

‘For what?’ Twilight blurted, instantly regretting the interrupting slipup, the other mare’s solemn expression having spurred her to reaction.

Luna held up a forehoof, finally turning to let their irises come to meet, apologetically begging to be allowed to go on. ‘I never got the chance to apologise before for my… other self, for threatening both you and your friends. So now I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry.’ The alicorn could not maintain their gaze, embarrassed back into looking out over the city. ‘Something else I’ve neglected to give you is my thanks.’ Although more than clunky, stumbled uncertainly over, the word’s solemnity still captured their audience. ‘From what I have heard you were one of the few, if not the only one beyond Tia, to remember my return. In this you likely knew more than most, recognised what I am… was, but you didn’t flee or turn your back. I want you to know that it meant a lot, and you have my gratitude for all you did to help me. Thank you.’

Twilight fell deeper into her stunned silence, entirely unprepared for the unexpected outpouring. Even her mind had chosen to shut up for the moment, wanting only to listen. She felt rooted in place, yet in want of motion, as if transfixed. On the one hoof she was aglow in the princess’ presence, appreciating the thanks far more than the sum of their simple words, whilst at the same time loathing the pained guilt written in the sovereign’s features. She wanted to move, to comfort, to fix, but she remained stilled.

‘What did you think of the wedding?’ Luna asked suddenly, her gaze dropping further to her hooves. ‘Of Cadence and your brother’s match I mean? It did after all kind of come out of the blue.’

An answer took a while to formulate, the question taking its already destabilised target off guard. ‘I don’t know, at first I was unsure about the whole thing, and then the Chrysalis issue further muddled things. “Out of the blue” is one term for it, in that I didn’t even know that they were together, but they’ve known each other for an age, mostly through me. I guess I just didn’t see it before and it’s going to take me a while to get used to it. Like I said though, they’ve known each other so long and at the same time they’re really similar, so it does make logical sense. That’s the way it’s supposed to be right?’

Luna gave a small, almost invisible, nod, but in this it was noticeable that her ears fell ever so slightly. Abruptly she turned about, vision still locked on the floor, making a few strides away to whence she had come.

What did you say!?

‘Luna?’ Twilight on instinct fell a single step in pursuit, her lone called out word thankfully halting the other mare in flight.

‘I-I’m sorry Twilight, I’m… I’m not very good at this.’ Even from behind it was clear that the princess’ cheeks were again burnt a cute shade of pink. ‘I… I have another confession to make.’ In saying this, the alicorn made a reluctant turn, adding: ‘do you know of my dreamwalking abilities?’

‘Yes.’ The student was well aware of the Princess of the Night’s power to enter other ponies’ dreams, if not satisfactorily so as far as her instinctive inquisitiveness was concerned. She had only learned so much from her unsuccessful studies, discovering this seemingly unique element of the dark alicorn’s powers, but little else besides. She remained ignorant of their extent or purpose for example. Concern however created her simple affirmation, reigning in her intrigue, not wanting to make any interruption.

‘I thought that you would, although it is kind of an open secret about me.’ The princess managed to raise herself to another brief smile. ‘Or rather it once was, as it would seem that most even basic knowledge of me and my place in Equestria has been generally lost to time.’ With this her image darkened once more. ‘But I digress, evasively to my shame.’ Despite her self-reproach she still shuffled awkwardly on the spot, still hesitating. ‘I’ve seen your dreams, principally those concerning… myself’ the alicorn finally admitted, this confession begetting a stream of further words after her timid start. ‘I’m truly sorry, I know I had absolutely no right to, but I… I didn’t want to overleap my limited responsibilities, or more importantly to break your trust but I-I… I like you, a lot, and I had to know what you thought of me in return…’

Twilight remained quiet as the princess trailed off; the other mare seeming shrunk despite her taller stature, with shoulders slumped. She was lost for what to say, and burned for it, feeling utterly incapable. The sight was a mirror, unpleasantly so, being herself well acquainted with the insecurity composed throughout its features. She hated more than anything being the cause, but equally her heart danced in what Luna said. In any case she did not know how to react, her body only taking a step towards the object of this confusion on impulse.

‘Please don’t hate me for it…’

This last little plea drew the lavender unicorn across the last few steps dividing them, bringing a supportive forehoof to her opposite’s shoulder. ‘I like you too…’

‘I know you do.’ The dark alicorn’s eyes remained low, stealing glances upward rather than letting their gazes truly meet. ‘Or rather, I know that you don’t. The Princess of the Night who holds sway in your thoughts and myself are two very different ponies. You make me a great many things I wish I was; a great many things I wish I could be for you.’ Luna winced; regret playing at the corners of her irises, averted vision set in the past. ‘But I’m not, I’m damaged, and I don’t want to hurt you, so…’

Moving fluidly without thought Twilight’s forehoof guided Luna’s muzzle to her own, bringing their lips to meet in turn. As far as kisses were concerned theirs was far from special, its unsure initiator being far too inexperienced, whilst the partner she had taken by surprise was long out of practice when it came to intimacy. Neither however felt the need to pull away, eyes at last lost in one another’s, initially wearing the said same expression of abject shock, cut with more than a small amount of fright. Gradually though this faded, lost as lids fluttered contentedly closed. Together their lips and eventually timid tongues found far greater wordless eloquence, although passion-fuelled whispering only cares and mutual reassurance. Like this they conversed, drifting away on what the other expressed and the promises they made in kind.

A cold chill worked its way again across her spine, as if some creature devoid of life exhaled icily at her back.

Poor little Lulu! Don’t cry; your tears will get you nowhere.

The first droplets of tears nonetheless fell, running their way down her cheeks whilst the world blurred, fluid beneath a blinked stream of water.

No matter how much you might try to convince yourself otherwise, you’re still the weak-willed little filly you’ve always been at heart, the same one, small and side-lined, which I saved.

The princess’ gaze had fallen to her hooves, shying from the mirror’s scene before her and all besides, in every way in her mind’s eye embodying the lonely creature she was accused of being.

I can save you again though, you know I can.

Cold, she felt so cold, the cool of the night’s air biting about her form. More than this however, its voice chilled her like a nightmare, except far too real as it whispered at her ear.

We both know I’m right, about this and so many other things. Surely you can remember all the fun we had, all you were with me to help and guide you. Look at me Lulu.

‘Luna?’

A fresh voice, seemingly quite close and yet still distant, stretching with a yawn as it threw off the mantle of sleep.

Come now, just look at me.

‘Luna?’

The other softer voice called to her once more, marginally louder this time, yet maintaining its comparative muteness. It made no demands, just quietly questioned in a concerned tone.

Look at me!

Luna’s eyes were startled to attention, drawn to her mirrored opposite, set still in the looking glass. Behind her the inky being leered over her at her left side, matched azure orbs glaring into her like daggers, feline pupils drawn thin as razorblades. Bestial, the thing gnashed the glittering serrations which overflowed its maw, hissing and spitting in the same way a cat might if trapped in a corner. In this it was a predator, it was demanding and it seethed with an innately threatening air, but at the same time there was desperation just below its jet black surface.

Let me back in!

Its snarls grew fiercer, snapping at the princess’ unprotected form, dark ichor dripping from its bared fangs. In an instant however this sharply drawn visage vanished, burst apart in a silent scream as another far different pierced through from its back. This new brighter aspect broke through the shadows, always illuminating in spite of its shaded background, or perhaps made more so surrounded by darkness. In a few short steps the lavender figure came to her side, matching strands of mane allowed to forego their usual orderliness in favour of being peacefully tousled. A new picture filled the reflective pane: an image of the two of them side by side, although for her all that really mattered in it was Twilight. In fact more precisely all that held her attentions were the unicorn’s deep violet irises, both orbs looking into her through the glass, holding onto her and comfortingly whispering without the need of words.

‘It’s okay, I’m here. It was just a bad dream.’

Maintaining their gaze, Twilight drew in closer to her partner, softly nuzzling against the taller alicorn’s neck. Her presence was a reassurance and it was an unconditional reminder, as much as being in turn a warming comfort.

‘I know and love who you really are, don’t forget that. Everything else is void. I love you.’

Luna in equally silent reply extended a wing, bringing it to tightly enfold the one beside her, drawing them both into a mutually protective cuddle. The alicorn let herself turn away and into the hug, nuzzling back whilst unthinkingly raising a forehoof to run lightly through her partner’s hair. Twilight followed in close mimicry, each guiding the other onward, matched in feathery caresses and stolen kisses until finally their lips met. Unbeknownst to either of them the pale light which had been trickling in at the veiled windows broke into a sudden torrent, the moon outside blossoming as its full face, leaving them both stood in a pool of silver. They remained blind to all beyond as likewise the princess’ stars burst back into life in a rolling wave across her mane and tail, one tinged just visibly purple new amongst their number. The room shimmered, shadows pushed away to its edges, the two of them together at its centre.