Equestrian Tales

Tears. Their cool wetness trickles down my cheeks, dampening my fur and reminding me once again of how weak I have become. Nightmare Moon would never have cried ...

No. Never again. Nightmare Moon is gone, and I am left alone. Again. Sure, Tia makes an effort to see that I am occupied with activities, but we both know it’s not the same. It will never be the same again, because she no longer trusts me.

Of course she still loves me, but, as one of those Friendship Reports from my sister’s, “prized pupil,” stated, “Losing a friend’s trust is the fastest way to lose a friend forever.” And I think that, even though “permanently” has now come to mean, “for a thousand years,” forever has stayed the same. Forever is forever. And now I have forever to spend with a sister who will never trust me, never fully forgive what I have done. Never truly understand, never forget, never be comfortable with me around, because she knows what I could become. What I did become. And now there is nothing left to do, nothing left for me to change what has happened or lessen the pain.

That was the only good thing about being in the moon—there was a way out. I always knew that I would be free after a thousand years; I was only banished permanently, not forever. But this… I can never undo.

The thought just sends me into another fit of sobbing. Oh that I had not made the mistakes I did!

And now, I think to myself, the saline turning the confines of my room into a blurry blue-purple-black haze, not only does my sister not trust me, but none of my subjects do either. How could they, after they saw me at my absolute worst? Brief flashes of memory form in the back of my mind; small fillies cowering, guards attacking, birds scattering in fear. No, there is no chance of forgiveness. I am trapped, quite literally, within a prison of my own making. I was better off on the moon—at least there I had Nightmare to keep me company. Now, I am truly, utterly alone.

I am interrupted from these thoughts that, I think shamefully, have become the norm, by a loud knocking on the door. A slight burst of what little magic I have left erases all traces of my inner turmoil from my face as I turn and call, “come in!” My voice is the exact mixture of cordial welcome and surprise that is proper on an occasion such as this. (I must admit, the spell came from Tia’s personal archives—apparently she used it extensively after… what happened.)

A young serving mare, cutie mark obscured by her maid’s uniform, timidly opens the door.

“Um,” she begins, then hesitates, quickly looking away, a blush rising to her cheeks, “um, I could come back another time.” Her eyes dart back to the room before hastily returning to the door.

I briefly wonder what the trouble could be. Was there a problem with the spell I used?

“No, it’s ok. Come in. Was there something you wanted to ask me?” I am sure my eyes betray my uneasiness—what could possibly have this mare so on edge? I don’t have anything inappropriate or distasteful in my room at the moment; though I have read a few books on such things to see what has changed in the past few years, I returned them to the library as soon as I was finished. Invisibly, of course.

Her eyes remain locked on the door as she answers, “Um, your majesty, you’re, you’re…” she trails off again, heightening my discomfort.

“Is there something wrong?” Thank goodness the spell is still in effect—that came off with just the right amount of concern, and none of the irrational and overwhelming panic that is filling my mind at the moment.

She dares one more glance at me before replying, “Princess, you’re not… clothed.”

That last part had been almost inaudible, but when I finally realized what she had said I had a momentarily fierce battle fighting down the laughter that was threatening to burst through my outward calm. Allowing a very Celestia-esque chuckle to escape, expressing a perfect rendition of benevolent amusement, I reassured her, “I think I can fix that.” while levitating over my normal accessories. Crown, shoes, and necklace straight and in their proper places, I double-check myself in the mirror before nudging the door further open with my magic.