As the Moon Rose Over an Open Field
The long grass of the meadow rustled in the cool night wind, rolling like a sea of shimmering blades and stalks. Crickets chirped quietly, and somewhere in the nearby woods, an owl hooted. A lone tree, a towering white oak, stood in the middle of the field, leaves and branches brushing together and rustling as well. A few clouds scudded across the sky, briefly obscuring the half moon and the twinkling stars.
The stars. They shone above Equestria like a billion tiny jewels, of all colors, some brighter than others. A sparkling tapestry, that Princess Luna had intricately woven this night, as she had every night before and after her banishment.
And speaking of the Princess…
Unbeknownst to each other, there were two ponies awake tonight, in this meadow. The elder, Princess Luna, lay beneath the lone oak, watching the patterns in the leaves and the grass with a solemn expression on her face. The younger, a world-weary traveler, walked through the sea of motion not far away, eyes and ears sweeping between the sky and the ground in an attempt to take everything in—sight and sound and touch and smell, an entire world of Night.
Quietly, and unaware of the elder’s presence, the younger pony drew near the tree. Then the wind shifted, and the princess looked to her right, and saw that she was not alone. Smoothly, elegantly, she got to her hooves, starting to walk away.
Her movement, however, had not gone unnoticed. Before she had gone far, someone called out to her. The voice was clear and calm, and not loud, as sound carried easily over the quiet swishing of the grass.
“Princess Luna, wait.” She stopped then, and turned to look at the traveler. “I did not mean to disturb you. If you desire solitude, then I will not intrude.”
There was a pause. The two ponies simply looked at one another, both still, simply looking. Waiting. Finally, the princess walked back underneath the tree, and settled down again. She turned her troubled gaze to the empty field ahead of her, and said nothing. After a moment, the traveler walked on, silent save the sound of hoofsteps and the whispering of grass. The princess watched the traveler go, the seconds stretching out.
“Wait.” It was Luna’s voice this time, and the traveler stopped just as she had, looking inquisitively back at her. “I am… lonely. I would appreciate some company, if you would care to join me.”
The traveler turned back, and walked to the princess’s side, lying down next to her. Again there was silence, but this time it was more peaceful. The wind blew through their manes, and flapped at the cloak on the traveler’s back. Eventually, Princess Luna spoke again.
“What is your name, friend? I feel I have been… neglectful in not inquiring. You know me, after all.” The other pony chuckled, and replied with a name: Horizon.
The princess nodded. There was another pause, shorter this time. “Is something distressing you, Princess? You seem sorrowed.”
“The weight of a crown is heavy,” she replied. She seemed distant, as if she were deep in thought.
“What makes it heavy tonight, your highness?” The inquiry was returned by a long glance, as though the princess were trying to decide whether or not Horizon was worthy of the sought answer. She turned her gaze back ahead, and after a few heartbeats, spoke.
“So much has changed… this is not the Equestria I knew. In a thousand years, more than just ponies change. From the moon, I was too far away to see it—the forests that have grown, and those that have died; the streams that have widened to rivers and changed their courses; the familiar boulders that have weathered away. Villages have burned, and cities have taken over ancient wilderness. Avalanches have blocked roads, and cave roofs have crumbled to create great valleys. This land is no longer my home, and I am powerless to stop the world’s motion.”
She sighed. “No matter where I go, the world has moved on without me. And I am growing to love the new land, but I will always miss what I knew. What I had, and the years I lost. I was a fool to become Nightmare Moon, and to try and fix my problems in such a violent manner. Celestia, of course, played her part in my fall, but ultimately I was to blame for my own actions. And I lost so, so much because of that.”
A tear glistened in the corner of the princess’s eye, and Horizon moved closer, pressing against her side. “My world… my kingdom… my home… is gone. I will never be able to regain it. And every night, I pour my sorrow and loss into my craft: the sky. And every night, a part of Canterlot Castle wakes—my guards, and my personal staff—while the rest of Equestria hurries home, to sleep until the dawn. So every night, I know that I am safe in the fact that precious few will ever see my pain, as I paint it in bright bold colors across the biggest surface I can find!”
Princess Luna started to sob. Horizon leaned into her, but said nothing, perhaps aware that what the princess needed most now was simply a listening ear. After a moment, the princess regained herself, and was able to speak again.
“It is not all sadness, and I know that it is not unseen. Some nights are shining with joy, or shadowed with peace. I try to put peace into all of my work, and Mother Nature certainly does her part in keeping it. And there will always be slumber parties, and astronomers, and stargazers, and all sorts of performances, and camping trips. Ponies are diurnal by nature, but many other creatures are not. But I cannot help but feel lonely sometimes. Everything I knew is gone—even my sister has changed in the time I was away.”
At this, the princess fell silent at last. They sat there for a while, and after a few minutes, Horizon spoke as well. It was an equally long tale, with its share of joy and pain, and all that the traveler had lost. The two ponies lay in the grass, beneath the tree, surrounded by the wind, under the clouds and the stars, until the moon neared the horizon and the princess had to go back to her marble castle. They spoke of mystery, and shadows, and light, and journeys, of blood, and dust, and loneliness. Most of all, they spoke of loss. And so two wayward souls became very close friends, and they stayed that way for the rest of Horizon’s life. There was a new star in the sky the night that the princess had to say goodbye for the last time, and it glitters there still: at the very edge of the earth, just to the north of where the moon appears when it is raised each night.