Tidally Locked

Chapters

One: Treasonous Behavior?
Two: She Had Wanted a Maverick
Three: Different as Night and Day
Four: Local Color
Five: Nightfall
Six: A Tiny Errand
Prologue: An Unset Sun / Unbroken Night

One: Treasonous Behavior?

Sun beat down upon the city. Canterlot sat in the middle of Corona, and the meridiem sun seemed to aim directly at Rarity. The gazebo, sunhat, seersucker dress, and subtle atmospheric magic tried to dull the heat, but they could only diminish it, not erase it completely. Rarity took another sip of her iced tea, fanned herself again.

Queen Celestia finally arrived. “Hello, Lady Rarity. Forgive my tardiness.”

Rarity stood up, bowed dutifully. “No, no, Your Highness, I know you have many duties to attend to. I would never begrudge a few minutes alone with this gorgeous view.”

The Queen nodded to her attendants, and they trotted off.

Rarity settled herself. To be summoned by the Queen herself, and to be alone, with no prying eyes or attendants there. Such privacy never boded well in politics.

“You wanted to speak to me in private, Your Highness?”

“I did.” The Queen picked up the iced tea that had been waiting for her. “Tell me, Lady Rarity, have you ever been to the Nightscape?”

Rarity set her tea down. The Queen already knew the answer to that, which meant that she had asked only to see Rarity’s reaction. Rarity had already erred by setting down her drink, announcing her surprise and broadcasting her need to consider the answer.

“No, Your Highness, I’ve never been. Most ponies don’t travel between the empires, unless business requires them to.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

Another rhetorical question. The Queen wanted to test Rarity again, not know her opinion.

“I suppose there are lots of reasons. Political, cultural, logistical.”

“If you had to sum it up, pick just one factor, which would it be?”

An oddly specific request. It had an air of sincerity to it, but the Queen masked all her speech that way.

“I suppose, that if I had to pick a single factor, it would be the cultural differences,” Rarity said. “The Nightscape is a very alien place, full of strange things and bizarre practices. I hear they eat cave plants and fluorescent bugs, that they walk around naked, that they keep bats and owls as pets instead of proper animals like cats and dogs.”

“Do you ever wonder if such exaggerations are accurate? If they are merely fear-mongering and xenophobia?”

So that was it. The Queen had noticed Rarity’s bills and motions in parliament, advocating closer ties with the Nightscape. She had been summoned here to gather evidence of treason, to weed out a dissenter and find an excuse to exile her.

“Sometimes, I do wonder if all the things we were taught in school are accurate. But I’ve never been there myself, and the Corona Empire is my only home.”

Rarity took a sip of her tea, looked over the rim of her glass at the Queen. Celestia’s sunhat and prismatic mane shadowed her features slightly. Yet a hint of concern and age poked through her usual regal facade. It seemed a trap, and Rarity could not walk into it.

“I’ve noticed that you have introduced quite a few bills lately that promote fraternization and cohabitation with the Nightscape. Perhaps something more than mere treaty, or subtle exploitation.” Celestia leaned forward, and the brim of her hat cast a shadow over Rarity’s face. “Perhaps something beyond even alliance. Something akin to integration, to a merger.”

Rarity set her tea down. “Your Highness, I only have the best interests of the Empire at heart. The Nightscape is merely another resource to exploit, especially given our past history with them.”

Celestia sat back in her chair. “You know, I trained you quite well. If anyone besides me were sitting across from you, you might have fooled them. Your facade of disdain and condescension masks your true motives quite well.”

Rarity sighed. “Well I tried. I’ll pack my things, prepare for exile. I hear there’s a town on the border that is not too bad.”

Celestia chuckled. Not a chuckle of condescension, or of victory, but one of sympathy. “You misunderstand me, my little pony. I do not intend to exile you, or punish you. In fact, your treasonous behavior has made me think.” Celestia closed her eyes. “I still remember the first time you asked, back during our first lesson, why the planet was divided in two, so long ago.”

“You told me it was because you and your sister had disagreed about something important. That the two of you vowed never to speak to each other again, to draw a line across the planet and leave each other to rule alone.”

“Yes, you remember too. And you asked me ‘what could be so important that you never talked to your sister again?’ You always were such a bright young filly.” Celestia opened her eyes. “Ever since then, I’ve watched you grow up, resist all the things I tried to teach you. I’ve watched you secretly disdain the idea of division, and to undermine the disconnect between the Nightscape and the Corona Empire.”

Celestia's smile shifted slightly, became harder and more forced. Only someone like Rarity, who had known the Queen for so long, could have noticed the change. “I need you to deliver something to Queen Luna.”

Rarity gagged on her tea. Only the most deep-seated training and diplomatic habit prevented her from spitting her drink onto the table. “Are you serious?” Rarity sputtered, all formality and tact forgotten. “It has been more than a thousand years! A thousand years teetering upon cold war, and you want me to deliver a message to Queen Luna? So it was exile after all? A declaration of war, and I am the messenger to be shot?”

Celestia shook her head. “No, no. The fact that you could have been right only makes me that much more ashamed.” Celestia reached into her dress, pulled out a parchment scroll. “Here is the message I want you to deliver. I’ll seal it right in front of you, so you know there is no subterfuge. I want you to take it to Queen Luna, guard it with your life.”

Celestia handed the scroll over, and Rarity silently opened it. Rarity put a hoof to her mouth, blinked back a tear. “Are you serious? Is this serious?”

“There has been nothing more serious.” Celestia sighed, long and deep. The lines on her face deepened, if only for a moment. “I knew taking you as my personal student, all those years ago...I knew it would lead to some great change. From that first question, I think I knew what it was. I needed someone to push me towards it, because I was too weak to admit it to myself. Even now...” Celestia closed her eyes, and a tear poked out.

“Say no more, Your Highness. I’ll begin preparations immediately.”

Celestia opened her eyes. “Thank you, my faithful student.” She pulled out her royal seal from a pocket, and picked up the candle in the center of the table. “It will be a journey, to the capital of the Nightscape. The city of Everfree may not be that far away, but I imagine that there will be obstacles other than distance. Perhaps those cultural differences you mentioned—” she paused “—the ones I have created, perhaps those will be the bigger obstacle.” She stamped the parchment shut, handed it back to Rarity.

Rarity stared down at the parchment. “What if Queen Luna says ‘no’?”

“It is her right, after everything we have done to each other... after everything I have done to her.” Celestia stood up. “I suppose I will have earned such a rebuke.” Celestia turned to leave. “Good luck, my faithful student.

“It’s funny, even after all this, after everything I’ve taught you and learned from you... part of me still wants you to fail. Part of me wants my sister to say no, so that I can continue blaming her for everything that has happened.”

Celestia stood there, silent, for a long time. She had stopped in the middle of leaving, and her hoof hung in the air as she thought. “I hope that you can succeed, despite everything I have done to set up your failure. All the lies and propaganda weaving a web of mistrust around you.” Celestia turned back to look at Rarity. “All those scars of prejudice I left on you. But if anyone can overcome it, you can.”

Two: She Had Wanted a Maverick

“Have any of your, uh, troops, ever been to the Nightscape?” Rarity asked.

Captain Cadenza missed a half-step, but only a trained diplomat could have noticed. “And start a war? No, milady. Nopony under my command has ever been to the Nightscape in an official capacity.”

Rarity smiled to herself. These military types always made it so easy to find the right questions. “And what about in a non-official capacity?”

The captain paused at that. She looked around the hallway, turned discretely to Rarity. “Permission to speak freely, milady?”

“Granted.”

“And there will be no repercussion for what I am about to tell you?”

“Most certainly not.”

“Well, with that in mind, there was one time. A minor incident, not really worth writing up. The cadets in question were not on the clock nor in uniform, so I decided to go easy on them.”

Rarity nodded. “Go on.”

“One of our cadets had heard a rumor about Nightscapist fungale. Never had it, but it’s an ale made from phosphorescent cave mushrooms. Glows bright green, contains a kick, so the stories go.

“The cadet was blabbing about the stuff to their company all day. He would not shut up about it. Finally, one of the other soldiers had enough of them. She said, ‘if this stuff was so great, why not go get some?’

“The cadet said if they were closer to the border, he would. There was some petty name-calling, perhaps some tribalist slurs, I can’t really say for sure. Eventually, the cadet dared Specialist Dash to go get some.”

Rarity nodded again. “And I suppose she followed through?”

Captain Cadenza turned around and continued walking. “That she did. She signed off for leave and everything, so she was on her own time. Went missing for a few days, and when she came back she had a full keg of the stuff with her. I believe she made a respectable profit selling shots of it.” The captain sighed. “Of course, the chislers didn’t save me any.”

“And where is she?”

“Right this way.”

They continued walking, taking a few twists and turns through the barracks. They passed a few soldiers along the way, and Rarity tried her best to salute the ones who saluted her. Or perhaps they saluted the captain, and she was caught in the crossfire.

“Here we are. You may want to step back a bit.” The captain knocked on the door, opened it at a distance, and pushed Rarity back.

The moment the door opened, a grenade clanked onto the floor. Cadenza pulled off her helmet and covered the grenade in a single smooth motion.

A blur streak shot out from behind the door. Cadenza kicked upward, and her hoof nicked the edge of the blur, just enough to skew its flightpath and send it spiraling into the door on the opposite end of the hallway.

“Shut up out there, Dash!” the occupant on the other side of the door shouted.

Rarity clung to the wall, her dress bundled in her hooves, her legs raised awkwardly, like a mouse had just skittered across the floor. Or perhaps something slightly larger and deadlier than a mouse.

A blue pegasus in their off-duty gear sat upside-down against the door. “C’mon, cap! You didn’t even try to hide your hoofsteps coming up the hallway! At least fly over.”

Cadenza ruffled her feathers. “And that was a sloppy tackle, spec. Now get up, we’re on official business today.”

Dash looked over at Rarity, and then spun onto her feet. “Milady.” She saluted.

Rarity finally unwound her body. “At ease,” she muttered. Something about all this struck her as lacking in protocol, but she stood up, tried to do the correct routine. She bowed, though her hindlegs and one foreleg hitched in the middle of the motion. “Dame Rarity of Canterlot, MP.”

“Specialist Rainbow Dash of Cloudsdale.”

“You have quite a unique relationship with your soldiers,” Rarity said.

The captain shrugged. “Blame nepotism.”

Rainbow Dash turned to Cadenza. “So what’m I in for?”

The captain gestured to Rarity. “I’ll let the MP explain things to you. Looks like this one might be above my security clearance.” Cadenza turned to Rarity and saluted. “Milady. I’ll leave you in Specialist Dash’s capable hooves.” She retrieved her helmet, tipped the practice grenade out of it, and kicked Dash on her way past. “Clean that up. And bring me back some fungale this time, you cheapskate.”

Dash raised an eyebrow at that. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

Rarity straightened her collar, smoothed her dress. “If you don’t mind, specialist, I think we should discuss this in private.”

Rainbow Dash laughed in a very annoying way. It possessed a shrill, scratchy quality, yet also had a bit of bass to it. Rainbow Dash had been laughing for several minutes now, and so Rarity had become quite familiar with her giggles and guffaws.

“Are you quite finished?”

Rainbow Dash stood up. “So let me get this straight? You have a note from Queen Celestia that we need to deliver to Queen Luna?”

“Yes.”

“The same Queen Luna and Queen Celestia that threw a hissy fit and divided the planet in half a thousand years ago?”

“Well, I don’t know how accurate—”

“And you think that if we bring this note over, the two of them will magically be friends again, and then they’ll make up and create some kind of crazy world that has night and day in the same spot?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it so crassly, but yes.”

Rainbow Dash leaned on a hoof. “I always thought you diplomatic types were dense, but I guess I was wrong. S’more like dense and naive.” She chuckled. “Maybe with some romance too.”

“I will admit that we cannot accurately predict Queen Luna’s reaction, but isn’t the chance to change the world for the better a worthy goal?”

“How can you be sure it will change for the better? Maybe the hissy fit and dividing things up was for the better, and we’re changing it worse.”

“I cannot believe that conflict ever made the world better, especially on such a large scale.”

Rainbow Dash shrugged. “So, when are we disembarking?”

“You want to go?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Despite all of that debate?”

“Orders are orders. Besides, gives me an excuse to pick up some more fungale on the way. They’ve been watching my leave since the last time.”

“Well, I appreciate your compliance, specialist. Of course, I will make certain that our mission is kept confidential, and that you are well-compensated for the ensuing danger.”

Rainbow Dash snickered. It sounded completely unlike her other laughs, sandy and brusque. It grated in an entirely different way. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“You don’t consider this a dangerous assignment?”

Rainbow Dash closed her eyes and shrugged again. “I think, when you get right down to it, the Nightscape and our dear Empire aren’t that different. And maybe, most ponies don’t care if you change the world one way or the other.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Rarity hated talking to the soldiery. Their blunt honesty and sarcastic condescension always made her feel ill-informed, even though she knew it to be a facade.

“Maybe you’ll see for yourself on the way.” Rainbow Dash opened one eye, and a smirk curled the corner of her mouth. “But I wonder... If you got your way, made everything...what’s the word... made everything come back together instead of being divided, what’d change? How would you change to adapt to it?”

Rarity paused for a moment. “I suppose that is something that can’t be known until it happens.”

Rainbow Dash closed her eye. “A very diplomatic answer.”

Rarity stood up. “Well, as long as I have your participation, then you are free to believe whatever you want. We shall leave in two days. Tell no one of this mission. I’ll make sure all the paperwork is in order. Pack lightly. We’re going to be walking most of the way, to avoid drawing attention to ourselves.”

“Aye aye, milady.” Rainbow Dash saluted without opening her eyes. “I’ll start building up a stockpile of sleep immediately.”

Rarity left the room, closed the door behind her. She had wanted a maverick.

Three: Different as Night and Day

Rarity had been on countless diplomatic trips. She had learned to pack light the first time she had to take two connecting trains to a port, take a boat to a meeting, and then go back home the next day.

But what does one take to a place they had never been before? An electric torch had been the first thing, and the small toiletries and amenities after that. Now she had lost her usual confidence in packing. Perhaps she should have consulted with Rainbow Dash more.

“So you’re really going to the Nightscape?”

“For the hundredth time, yes.”

“I heard they eat bugs over there.”

“Well, apparently they drink fungus.” Rarity picked up her sleep mask, then thought better of it.

“Are you going to eat bugs and drink fungus?”

“Well, I suppose I will have to eat and drink whatever the local cuisine is, so perhaps.”

Sweetie Belle wrinkled her nose. “Why would anyone ever want to go there? It sounds horrible.”

“Well, you’ve never been there, so how would you know?”

Rarity focused on her bags. Sweetie Belle almost certainly had taken the opportunity to roll her eyes in that infuriating way she did, and Rarity did not want even a glimpse of it.

“How are you even going to see where you’re going?”

“Well, the moonlight should take care of that.”

Rarity folded up her blanket, pushed it into her saddlebag. The flap of cloth almost covered up Sweetie’s sigh.

“I know you have to go there because of your job, but it seems like a gross waste of time.”

“The residents of the Nightscape are ponies just like us, Sweetie.”

“Obviously not, since they eat bugs and fungus.” Sweetie Belle said. “Plus, I heard all of them have fangs and glowing eyes, like a bat.”

“I mean, they want the same sorts of things we do. To spend time with friends, to watch the sun—er, moon rise. To eat good food, whatever it may be.”

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes, and retracted her head. “Maybe those night ponies think the same thing about us, how gross our coats look and how weird our eyes are.”

“That’s enough.” Rarity finally looked up from her bags. Sweetie Belle sat on the bed, nonchalantly flipping through a magazine. “This is just like when the school called me in because you were bullying other students. Being different doesn’t make one inferior. Our differences give us opportunities to learn from each other.”

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes, even more infuriatingly now that she knew Rarity could see it. “Whatever. Did you ever think that maybe ponies don’t like things that are different? DT and Silver are my best friends because we all like the same stuff, not because we’re all different.”

“But the three of you aren’t identical.”

“Yea, but we’re not that different. It’s not like we’re a bat pony and a normal pony hangin’ out. Didn’t you ever hear that old cliché? Different as night and day. Gee, it’s almost like they got that from somewhere.”

“Be that as it may—”

“And it’s not like you even hang out with anypony who is that different from you either.” Sweetie Belle idly flipped another page. “I mean, who’re your main friends? Your coworkers? You hang out with Ms. Cheerilee a lot, and she’s a teacher for a private school. You hang out with nobility and go to fancy parties.”

“Now see here, young lady!”

“Look, it’s not like I’m not happy for you. Being the first semi-official diplomat to the Nightscape? You’re basically in the history books now. And you’re gonna be, like, super famous and important, if nothing goes wrong. And I know that you’ve gotta keep up appearances and everything, make it look like you’re doing this to be charitable and help everyone, instead of just advancing your career.”

Sweetie Belle finally looked up from her magazine. “But I know you better than that. And if you wanna keep up appearances, fine, but just don’t treat me like some kind of foal. I know how the world works.”

Rarity took a deep breath. She brought to mind her diplomatic training. Sweetie Belle was just in her rebellious teenage years, and she was trying to needle and provoke. All the parenting books Rarity had read said as much.

“That deep breath means you know I’m right.” Sweetie turned back to her magazine.

Rarity pursed her lips. Sometimes she regretted teaching Sweetie Belle all the various ins and outs she knew of body language, negotiation, deception, and counter-deception. Those parenting books had not prepared her for this.

“Sweetie, I know you’re at a delicate age. So it is important for you to understand how important this is.”

“So you don’t deny it.”

Rarity felt a burning temptation to kick Sweetie Belle out of her room, but that would only prove the little monster’s point.

“Sometimes, Sweetie Belle, I regret teaching you all my tricks of the trade.”

“Subject change.” Sweetie Belle flicked another page. She only had the magazine as a prop, a way to needle Rarity more by appearing aloof. Rarity knew this, of course, yet the prop still did its job.

Rarity sighed. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I am partially motivated by what this will do to my career. But perhaps I am also partially motivated by the good it will do for our society. Sometimes ponies can have multiple motivations for things.”

Sweetie looked up from her magazine. “Do you really think Queen Luna will accept that letter gracefully? Or even nicely? Or at all?”

“If she does not, then that is her right.”

Sweetie tossed the magazine onto the bed. “Ohhh! I get it now. Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?”

“Pardon me?”

“You’re hoping Luna will kick you out, that way you get all the credit without having anything change.” Sweetie nodded. “Pretty sneaky, sis.”

“Don’t be preposterous, Sweetie! I would never root against the plans of my country or its ruler.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Sweetie hopped off the bed. “Well, have fun in the Nightscape, I guess. Be sure to hug lots of bats while you’re there.”

Rarity turned back to her suitcase. Finally, I can finish packing in peace. Surely Sweetie Belle had been trying to needle her, nothing more. The accusation and implication had been intended to incense her, not to reflect the truth. Surely.

Rarity returned to her packing.

Four: Local Color

“Why are we walking the whole way there?”

“I told you already, at least five times.”

“But the reason was stupid. I could just carry you there.”

Rarity turned to Rainbow Dash. “And how well did that work out last time? Every pony in your entire regiment knew where you had gone.”

Dash shrugged. “Yeah, but I wanted ‘em to know. Make sure they knew, so when I got back everyone would know what a punk Rich is.”

“This is a delicate diplomatic mission. Attention is the last thing we want.”

“Whatever you say, milady. They make all the recruits march for days, pegasus or not. I was just concerned about your delicate constitution.”

Rarity pursed her lips. “You needn’t be concerned about me, specialist. Just keep an ear to the ground and make sure no one is following us.”

Rarity looked up at the sky again. They had been walking for a while. The bright blue of the sky had started to dull about an hour ago. The clouds had started first, going from white to pink a few shades at a time.

Rarity had seen pictures of dusk and night before, of course. They had shown them all the time in her days at grade school, the perfect example of how strange and backwards the Nightscape was. The softer colors had sent a shiver up her spine, the first time. A perversion of the sky, like it had rotted and grown moldy.

Rarity shook her head. She had grown past that propaganda a long time ago.

“Finally, something other than sand.”

Rarity looked up. A modest sign—barely even a placard—clung rustily to a squat fence. It declared “Welcome t Eclipston!”, far more proudly than it deserved.

“Eclipston?”

“Means we’re halfway there.” Rainbow stretched her neck and unkinked her wings. “Sounds like a good place to take a break, if you ask me.”

Rarity opened her mouth to protest, but a thought interrupted her. “Perhaps. Let’s find some place with a bit of, well, local charm.”

The town barely qualified as such. Buildings pockmarked the landscape, all built in the same squat, square style. The fence holding the town’s sign quickly gave up on encircling the place, even though that job possessed no real challenge. Shrubbery poked at the edges of the various foundations, and a few gnarled attempts at trees sprouted here and there.

Rarity reflexively looked to the center of the town, where the sundial should be. But instead of a proper sundial, a battered mechanical clock sat in a…well “tower” was an overstatement.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Rainbow Dash muttered. She trotted off to the second-largest building in town. Another excessively proud sign across the front declared “In ”.

“Well, I suppose they don’t have a large tourism industry here,” Rarity said to herself.

The interior of the inn possessed the same qualities as the town; words like ‘rustic’ and ‘quaint’ came to mind. Unlike the exterior, everything had been immaculately cleaned, and recently.

Two hooves in the door, and Rarity’s vision filled with pink.

“Hi! Welcome ta Eclipston, ‘n’ ta Eclipston’s best inn!” The pink pony bounced up and down. “What can I put ya two down for?”

“Food and a bed,” Dash said.

“Just one bed?” The innkeeper’s eyes widened. “Oh my goodness, are you two sleeping together? Are you on vacation? Is this yer honeymoon?” She gasped. “Oh, let me get ya the finest we have! I’ve been savin’ some of my private—”

“Thank you, but no.” Rarity waved a hoof at Dash. “We are most certainly not in a relationship, or on vacation, and I most definitely want my own bed.”

The innkeeper paused in mid-air, then drifted to the ground. “Oh, right, sorry. Got a bit carried away there. Two meals ‘n’ two beds, comin’ right up! Have a seat, ‘n’ if you need anythin’ at all, just call for Pinkie Pie!” She bounced into the presumable kitchen. “Pumpkin, hurry up, we got two guests!”

Rarity sat down at a well-worn wooden table on a worn-down wooden stool. “I suppose menus are out of the realm of possibility.”

Rainbow snickered. “Ya think?”

“You know, you have been awfully sarcastic and snarky throughout our trip so far, specialist. I am beginning to suspect that you are not taking our diplomatic assignment seriously.”

“Why, what would make you think that?” She turned to the door Pinkie had hopped through. “Pinkie Pie, I want something hard to go with the food!”

“Okie dokie!” a muffled voice from the kitchen answered.

“Drinking on the job? What makes you think—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, milady. It’s not like we’re on some secret mission.”

Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “Even if we were on some sort of secret mission, you are still on duty.”

“Am I?” Rainbow lifted up a flap on her uniform. A clock had been sewn into it, one of those newer, digital timepieces that lacked the elegance and subtlety of a proper sundial, all red lights and numbers and electricity instead of shadows and angles. “Cuz according to this, it’s way past duty hours, and we’re definitely not on a secret mission or anything, are we?”

Rarity pursed her lips. “I suppose not.”

Clanks and thunks and bumps echoed from the kitchen. After a few minutes, Pinkie Pie emerged, balancing two plates on her back and holding a drink tray in her mouth.

“Alright, there ya go! The finest pancakes ‘n’ the finest wine in Eclipston!”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Pancakes? At this hour?”

“Anytime is a great time for a pancakes!”

Rainbow Dash grunted agreement, her mouth already full.

Rarity took a bite, and if not for her diplomatic instincts, she might have let out several letters, mostly Ms and Os.

“Well, this is certainly scrumptious!”

Rainbow Dash grunted agreement, her mouth even more full.

Pinkie Pie pulled up a chair. “Sooooo, if you don’t mind me asking, what brings y’all here? We don’t get visitors ta Eclipston too often, especially ones so fancy.”

Rarity glanced at her clothes. A matched seersucker skirt and blouse, striped white and aquamarine. She glanced at Pinkie Pie’s apron. It looked pink at first glance, but might have been red once. A pocket had fallen off and been sewn back on. Even the sandy gold of Rainbow’s uniform looked garish and overblown by comparison.

Pinkie Pie leaned in conspiratorially, covered her mouth playfully. “It’s a secret, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes.”

“Is it ‘n important secret? Maybe a dangerous secret?”

“Perhaps.”

Pinkie Pie clapped her hooves, rapidly and lightly, and a small chortle escaped her lips. “Oooh, I love secrets! There’s, like, no secrets in Eclipston. Everyone knows about that rusty clock ‘n’ the boggarts down the road ‘n’ that gnarled oak tree with the hollow branch. Life needs a few surprises ‘n’ secrets ta stay interestin’.”

Pinkie Pie leaned in again. “Ya know, we don’t get very many visitors from Corona, ‘n’ even fewer couples.”

“We are most certainly not—”

“Right, right, I know.” Pinkie waggled a hoof. “I’ve heard the stories. All the couples from Corona talk about how…” Pinkie looked left and right. “Well, you know, they don’t like, well, matched pairin’s in the Empire.”

“What?”

“S’alright, I know ya have ta play dumb, what with the spies ‘n’ all lurkin’ everywhere.” Pinkie shrugged. “I’m just sayin’, if ya two feel like savin’ some money, ya could get the one bed. It’s not like the Empire c’n stop ya out here.”

Rarity glanced at Rainbow Dash, who had started snickering through her mouthful of pancake.

“As if anypony, especially one of my impeccable taste and high station, could be romantically attracted to this, this…pancake-stuffed wad of sarcasm.”

Pinkie Pie sighed romantically. “Ah, young love is so nice ta see bloomin’, ‘specially in that stuffy old Empire.”

Rarity took another bite of her pancakes. She had never heard of any sort of mandate, de jure or otherwise, on the orientation or type of romantic intercourse allowed in her Empire. Perhaps in the military, but the official stance on that had been “don’t ask” for some time now.

Is this remote innkeeper merely deluded? Or do outsiders actually believe this? Is it some sort of propaganda spread by…?

Rarity bit her lip. She had done it again.

“Uhm, Pinkie Pie, perhaps you would answer a different sort of question for me?”

“Sure.”

“What do the people of Eclipston think of Corona?”

“Well, no offense meant, but y’all’re a bunch a stuffed shirts and laywers, from what I’ve seen.” Pinkie waved a hoof at Rainbow Dash. “I mean, y’all spend half your time ’n’ money on yer military, ’n’ it doesn’t even do anythin’.”

Dash finally swallowed, what seemed like a full pound of pancake and a worrying amount of wine. “Sounds right to me.”

“Specialist! Watch yourself.”

“Pfft. As if you get anything done up in parliament, shuffling papers and arguing all day.”

“We do not argue! We debate eloquently, defending our ideals and the ideals of our people.”

Rainbow Dash had already gotten back into the pancakes. “What about that time an MP took a swing at somebody?”

Rarity scoffed. “That only happened a few times. And the last time was decades ago.”

Pinkie Pie patted Rarity’s hoof. “Aw, don’t take it personal, sugarcube. It ain’t your fault. All that propaganda they feed ya in school, ’n’ all those crazy laws yer Queen used ta pass. It’s been like this since way before any of us was born.”

Pinkie Pie leaned back in her chair. “And besides, it’s not like the Nightscape is any better. All the stuff they have ta eat, and all the weird things they do ta their animals. They call ‘em loonies for a reason, after all.”

“Well, it is not as if Eclipston has it any better.”

“Sure don’t!” Pinkie Pie chuckled. “The last visitors we had before y’all showed up was months ago. Of course, we got a thrivin’ tourism industry if ya count tumbleweeds, but they can’t really strike up a decent conversation. All the bordertowns are the same as us, tho’, so at least we get some points for solidarity.”

Rarity glanced to the side. The inn remained empty. “What would you think if, purely hypothetically, the sun and the moon started to move again? Would it help everypony get along? Would it change things for the better? Would everypony stop being divided?”

Pinkie Pie laughed. “Oh wow! I never heard a question that crazy before! The sun and moon movin’ again? Like they did before the sisters threw their hissy fit?” Pinkie laughed again. “I bet everypony would start movin’ back and forth more, at the very least. Maybe we’d get some more customers.” She leaned back thoughtfully again. “As fer gettin’ along? Who can say? I suppose anythin’s possible. And a change that big, somethin’ big would be bound ta happen. But I can’t really say fer sure.”

Pinkie Pie scooted her chair over, planted an elbow on the table. “I’ll tell ya this much, tho’. It’d be real interestin’. And this place could stand ta be more interestin’. I’ve lived here my whole life, ’n’ I ain’t seen anythin’ interestin’ yet. Well, maybe that five-legged goat, but that was the exception. I guess we’re due fer somethin’ interestin’ ta happen sometime soon.” Pinkie pointed at her tail. It vibrated slightly, for a few moments. “It’s like rain, you can feel it comin’, but ya don’t know exactly when or why it’ll show up. And the way yer talkin’, maybe interestin’ is on it’s way sooner than I thought.”

Pinkie hopped out of her chair. “Anyhow, I’ve taken enough a yer time. Here’s yer keys. I put ya in the big room. Two separate beds, but they’re in easy reach of each other.” She winked slyly. “Just call for Pinkie Pie if ya need anythin’. Or Pound Cake, it’s almost time for her shift.” Pinkie hopped into the kitchen. “Pumpkin, finish up them dishes. I’m gonna go prep the lovebirds’ beds 'n' head out.”

Rarity took another bite of her pancakes. “Quite a bit of local color around here.” She turned to Rainbow Dash, who had taken a break from stuffing her face only because she had emptied her plate and glass.

“What do you think, specialist?”

“I mean, if you like her, go for it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said ‘local color’, and I’m guessing by her name that she’s the most colorful thing in this dirtpile by a few hues.”

“I meant the discussion, you crass hedonist.”

“Permission to speak freely?”

Rarity paused at that. If Rainbow Dash hasn’t been speaking freely until now, then what was ‘freely’? “Always.”

“I think you shouldn’t bother quizzing everyone we come across. It’s like I said when we first met: maybe you should think about how you’re going to react to the change first. If it even changes.”

“And how do you intend to react to the change we are trying to bring about? When it happens?”

“Still quizzing everyone.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “But, I wouldn’t have to go through a day’s hike for some decent pancakes or some fungale, so that’s a start.” She hunched over in her chair. “And, I’m not holdin’ my breath or anything, but it might be nice to not have officers breathing down my neck every minute I’m on duty, a bit less paperwork to fill out.” Rainbow returned to her allegedly casual slouch. “But who am I kiddin’? If some miracle happens and the empires make up, that’ll mean more paperwork.”

Rarity shook her head. “I think I’m ready for bed.”

“If you want to sample local color, I can hang around down here for a bit.”

“Specialist, shut up.”

Five: Nightfall

The path out of Eclipston remained dusty and barren for a long time. Only the sky changed, slowly progressing from dusky orange to nightly purple, before settling on a cloudless almost-black.

Rarity looked at every part of the path, every pebble and divot. The suggestion of path stretched on, and the desert looked a lot like Corona’s various border areas. But her gaze kept wandering up to the sky, the moon in particular.

“How did you sleep?” Dash asked.

“Fine, thank you. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, given the locale.”

Rarity waited for an off-color taunt or snarky remark.

Dash remained uncharacteristically quiet. “The next time we stop to sleep, it’ll be at nightplace.”

“And?”

“You keep looking at the sky. Keep trying to ignore it, and looking anyway.”

“…”

“Y’know, during training—not basic, either—there’s a section on the Nightscape. The first part is mostly reading and lectures. But then they do, whatsit called… “Nocturnal Immersion Therapy.” They take you to this big complex out in the boonies: a big building that mimics nightplace. You have to spend a week there, and any panic attacks or breakdowns , and they pull you out, give you an F, and send you along.”

“Do ponies fail it often?”

“Not really. But most don’t take it, even though you go up in pay.”

“Have you taken this training?”

“Yea.”

“And did you pass it?”

“Yea.”

“Then I am afraid I don’t see your point.”

Rainbow Dash scratched the back of her neck. “Alright, let me put it this way. Did you ever read Nightfall?”

“No.”

“It’s about this far-off planet. They have six suns, so they never experience night.”

“Sounds rather familiar.”

“Right. Except these ponies never had night at all. They can’t walk a bit and find it. And they're all really afraid of the dark and super-claustrophobic. They build their houses so there’s no shadows, even.”

“I am afraid I still don’t—”

“I’m getting to that. In the middle of the book, after this crackpot, or not-crackpot… Well, they have an eclipse. The moon covers up the sun so it looks like night.”

“I am aware of what an eclipse is. I’ve read about them.”

“Yeah, but see, the ponies in the story don’t. They all go crazy, feral even. Mobs and cults and that kind of thing. And their records from survivors show that every few millenniums, their cities all burn up, probably because of other eclipses. Civilization collapses because they don’t know how to handle it, and it keeps happening over and over.”

Dash nudged her head toward the moon, without looking at it.

“It happens to everypony, when they cross over the first time. Sometimes it’s big, like panic attacks. Mostly it’s just small stuff, like how you keep looking up but trying not to.”

“If it’s mostly minor, what’s the issue?” Rarity asked.

“Because in Nightfall, it happens to everypony, all at once. It multiplies, gets everypony at the same time, whether they were expecting it or not.”

Rarity paused. “What happened to you, the first time?”

Dash stopped walking, scanned the horizon and either end of the path.

“I got…quiet,” she said. “I got bored. I spent a lot of time thinking. Or more like, I spent a lot of time alone with my thoughts. I spent a lot of time being…melancholic.”

Dash continued walking, and Rarity scurried to catch up.

They walked in silence for a while.

“So then, this book—Nightfall—how does it end?”

Rainbow Dash smirked. “It doesn’t seem like your kind of book.”

“Probably not.”

“Well, the original ends just like I told you. The scientists tell everyone about the eclipse, but nopony listens and civilization collapses.” Dash looked back at Rarity, and quickly added, “But, they wrote a longer version that has a new beginning and ending.”

“So how does that one end, then?”

“Well, I don’t really do spoilers,” Dash said. “I think it might be better if you read it for yourself.”

The next town Rarity and Rainbow Dash arrived at boasted a larger size and population than Eclipseton. Only in the most technical sense, perhaps a square yard more area and one more household worth of ponies. But bigger was still bigger.

The road had finally shifted from desert and pockmarks of shrubbery to bits of gnarled tree and clumps of crabgrass. The closer they got to the capital city, the more budget for public works showed itself. This town was just close enough to have government earth ponies stop in, perhaps as often as once a month. It was just like Corona, that way. Princess Celestia certainly tried to get every town and village and hamlet the help they needed, but the miles of desert they had crossed through on the way here showed the infeasibility of that task.

The town looked like Eclipston in other ways, although even sparse foliage made everything seem much newer and well-kempt.

“Finally,” Dash muttered. “Let’s find an inn and get some food.”

“I’m assuming this is still the sort of town where choice of inn is out of the question.”

“Yep. I guess you could walk around to the other side of the inn, that door might be another entrance.”

“Doubtful.”

They had entered the nightscape now, and so the landscape had been robbed of brighter colors. The innkeeper was a bat-pegasus. She sported the tufted ears and distinct pupils of all nightscapists, among other unattractive qualities. The bright pink of the last innkeeper had been replaced with a muted, dingy yellow, and the blue eyes had been swapped for a dusky purple.

“Can I help you?” The innkeeper asked.

“A room and some food,” Rainbow Dash said.

The innkeeper looked Rainbow Dash up and down. “Just the one bed?”

“Two, if you have em.” Rainbow leaned in. “And, I’m sure I don’t need to say, we’d prefer some privacy.”

The innkeeper nodded. Rarity could sense some disdain, some sort of disgust in the innkeeper’s actions and expression. Perhaps she felt like Rarity did, and the bright colors of these foreigners hurt her eyes. Perhaps the implied cover of being a couple had backfired, and it made the two of them look like degenerates.

The innkeeper pulled a key off the wall. “How long will you be staying?”

“Just a cycle. Got plenty more sightseein’ to do, ya know?”

The innkeeper leered at the money too. Freshly minted Nightscape crescents that Rarity had needed to requisition from a clandestine section of the government. The innkeeper took out a small scale and weighed them before finally handing the key to Dash.

The food had been fine. Simple, but tasty, like the food in Eclipston.

Rarity lay in her bed, staring at the room. Moonlight streamed in from the window. The moon had set, ticked along to the horizon just like the sun did in Corona. And just like in Corona, the difference between morning, highsun, and lowsun only had subtle differences. But the times of da—night had to have different names here. The moonlight spilled into the room, and it had such a bright, white quality that it almost reminded her of the sun. Or of a perversion of it.

A digital clock sat on the nightstand next to her, glaring eerily with its red numbers and dots. ‘2227,’ it declared. She should be exhausted right now; it had been a long day, and it was past her normal rest hours.

She closed her eyes. Like most Coronans, she wore a sleepmask to bed. She had not packed it, it had seemed so superfluous. But the moonlight poked her eyes just enough to open them again.

She got up, walked to the window, closed the blinds.

The room sunk into pitch-blackness immediately. She stumbled back to her bed, narrowly avoided Dash’s bed only because of the loud snores coming from it.

She nestled back into her covers, closed her eyes again.

That innkeeper had leered at her and Dash the entire dinner. Leered at them as they made their way up to this room. If other patrons had been there, would they have leered too? Leered with their ugly slitted pupils and tufted ears and leathery wings?

Rarity opened her eyes, though she still saw only blackness.

Do they feel the same way? Do they look at my immaculate, pristine coat, my round pupils, my untufted ears and think the same thing? Do I look disgusting to them?

Rarity turned to Rainbow Dash’s bed, and the blue of her coat peeked through the darkness, ever so slightly.

Was this all a mistake? If...when I succeed at repairing everything, it’ll be like this all the time. Nightscapists and Coronans living together, staring at each other every day. Leering at each other, judging each other...

“I’m not xenophobic.” Rarity whispered.

The room stayed silent. Rainbow’s snores hitched slightly and continued on.

It’s not my fault. It’s all just a cultural construct. I don’t mean to be xenophobic. I don’t mean to be... But that innkeeper did it to me, too. Is she to blame? It’s all just her culture, as well. I can’t blame her for it.

Everypony else is going to feel the same way. When I deliver the letter, and the princesses finally make amends, will anypony be happy? Will they want the changes that happen? Was this whole mission a mistake?

“Rainbow Dash.”

“What?”

“Was this whole thing...is it a mistake?”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “You know, that’s really not the sort of question that you should ask in the middle of the night.”

“But was it?”

Rainbow Dash rolled around in bed, looked at Rarity. The whites of her eyes just barely poked through the darkness. “It happens to everyone, the first time. I told you it would.”

“What?”

“Darkness, nighttime, silence, moonlight. You’re taking it better than I thought. Better than most ponies. But don’t let all the ideas and thoughts in your head right now... Don’t take them too seriously. Don’t hang on to them. They’re not important, they won't stay there.”

“But the way that innkeeper was looking at us... The way I was looking at her!” Rarity bit her lip, felt tears forming at the edges of her eyes. “You were right. Sweetie Belle was right. Everypony was right. I’m just a racist pretending to be accepting, trying to make change to make myself important. I’m not—”

“Stop right there. Whatever that thought is, don’t finish it. You’re not yourself, the first time you experience nighttime. It gets in your head, makes you think things that you would never think otherwise. Don’t think about any of that stuff. Just go to sleep, get some rest.”

Rarity sat up. “No, you’re just saying that. And even if it is the nighttime, then so what? Is this what I’m doing? Trying to make everypony experience this?” She turned to the clock. ‘2249,’ it declared. She had started to cry now. “I wasn’t thinking about the welfare or the helping or the good of all ponykind. I didn’t want to make my mentor feel better. I just wanted it for myself, to seem...”

Rainbow Dash had climbed on top of Rarity’s bed without her noticing.

“Specialist, I’m a petty, selfish failure.”

Rainbow reached into her pocket, pulled out a small, single-dose pill packet. Rainbow sighed.

“They warned me a civvie might not be able to handle it. Not without any preparation. Eat this.”

“Why...?”

“It’ll help you sleep. It won’t make you forget all the stuff going through your head right now, but maybe that’s better than forgetting it all.”

Rarity swallowed the pill without resistance. Dash pulled a water bottle from another pocket. Rarity drank from that without protest.

“Specialist, am I going to die?”

“Well, not from standard-issue sleep aids, I hope.”

Rarity leaned back. Her eyes had already started to droop. Which was worse? The darkness or the perverse moonlight? Like any red-blooded Coronan, she owned a sundial, and that ugly digital clock made her eyes hurt. Or had her tears made things blurry?

Rainbow Dash waited, on top of Rarity, until Rarity’s eyes closed and her breathing slowed, became rhythmic and regular.

Dash returned to her bed, sat down, and watched Rarity sleep. Her eyes turned to the clock. She chuckled to herself. “You did better than some of the recruits, if it makes you feel any better.” She patted her pocket. “Don’t worry. I brought enough for a week’s worth of sleep cycles.”

Rainbow got into bed, covered herself up. The placebos had done their job, Rarity seemed to be sleeping soundly. She pointed herself at Rarity’s bed as she fell asleep, just in case.

Six: A Tiny Errand

Rarity stared at the sky again. Just like in Corona, the moon slowly traveled across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Then, when it got to one horizon, it traveled back the way it came. In Corona, the day divided into morning, meridiem, and lowsun. Westward and eastward referred to which direction the sun was going, and ponies traditionally took sleeptime on eastward days. One segment of the week was made up of two days, and seven segments together made a week.

It all made sense, all felt organized and clear. This nightplace had ruined Rarity’s internal clock. Almost every Coronan owned a sundial. They were as much for decoration and status as anything, since one learned to tell the general time based on position and direction of the sun. She felt awkward asking Dash for the time every few minutes, waiting for Dash to pull out that ugly digital clock…

Rarity shook her head.

“Are you ok?” Dash asked.

“I suppose I am not.” They had been walking for a long time. Long enough for scattered trees to become a forest, and for the wide road to narrow into a street barely large enough for a cart.

Rarity sighed. “I suppose there is no point in ignoring it any longer. I must apologize to you for my behavior last sleeptime.”

Dash simply shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. And I mean that.”

Rarity searched for an appropriate response, and nothing came to mind.

The path wound through the forest for a long time. Chirps and hisses and other sounds from the forest’s foreign fauna wafted across the pathway.

The path widened slowly again. The trees remained thick and the animals remained loud, but they started to creep away from the road, leaving grass and room to breathe on either side. A cart could have comfortably run into a ditch, now, instead of scraping against branches and leaves.

Finally, they reached an opening in the forest. A city stretched out before them, medium-sized, but still ringed on every side by the forest. Every building possessed a squat, low profile, a rustic architectural style dripping with folksy charm. Rarity noticed a castle poking above the branches in the distance. An elaborately carved sign had been nailed into a tree next to the path: “Moonville.”

Rainbow Dash clapped her hooves. “Finally. Moonville means we’re only one city over. I thought the Everfree would never end.” Rainbow turned to Rarity. “If you want to find an inn, go ahead. I think this is the first place we’ve stopped at with more than one choice.”

“And where exactly are you going?”

“I’ve got a tiny errand to run.”

Rarity narrowed her eyes. “Is it perhaps related to a certain alcoholic beverage?”

Dash shrugged. “It’s a small business deal. You can’t expect me to go to the Nightscape and not pick some up.”

“Specialist, you are on assignment!” Rarity glanced around, lowered her voice.

Rainbow Dash smiled. “If you’re concerned for your safety, milady, I can give you a whistle.”

“This is dereliction of duty,” Rarity whispered, as loudly as possible.

“It’ll only take a minute.” Rainbow Dash started walking. “Besides, a little sightseeing might be good for ya.”

Rarity had been raised in a household free of cursing, swears, and off-color language. “A proper lady doesn’t have any need for vulgarities,” her mother had always told her. So she scuttled after Dash, and in lieu of any cussing, she made a self-satisfied mental note to dock Dash’s pay.

Dash’s destination turned out to be a wide, low building near the outskirts of town, on the border between Moonville and Everfree Forest.

Rainbow Dash stepped through the glass double doors, and a sign inside declared “Welcome to MCC!”

“Moonville Community College,” Dash replied to Rarity’s tilted ear.

Rarity opened her mouth, to ask questions along the lines of “why in the world are you purchasing fungale at a college?” and “that must be illegal, are you stupid or just reckless?” But a pair of students turned the corner, and Rarity clamped her mouth shut.

She followed Dash on a winding path through the hallways. Like most schools, everything looked outdated and due for replacement, but well-kempt. Rarity could hear occasional laughter or snippets of lectures from the classrooms they passed. A few students and staff roamed the hallways. No one paid her any attention.

They arrived at a wooden door, with a piece of notebook paper taped to the front: “Professor Applejack, Head of Botany and Floral Research Dept.”

Rainbow Dash knocked loudly.

“Yes, yes, what is it?” A bat-earth-pony poked her head out the door. She had the usual tufted ears and slit pupils of nightscape ponies, and her orange coat possessed the same muted, grayish palette typical of bat ponies.

Her eyes widened. “Rainbow Dash? So, they did not court martial you after all.”

“Not yet. Mind if we come in?”

“Of course, of course, please step inside, my dears.”

The office looked typical of most academic offices; slightly too small, slightly too full, cozy, outdated. Books and scattered plant specimens lined shelves all around the room, and a window peeked out above the desk, letting moonlight flood in.

“My my, Rainbow Dash. I would not have expected a ruffian such as yourself to have such a sophisticated traveling companion.”

“Ruffian, eh? I’m not the one selling illegal—”

“Ill-mannered, crass ruffian, I might add,” Applejack said. She turned to Rarity. “It is quite rude to not introduce one’s friends, you know.”

“Oh, uh, right.” Rainbow Dash gestured at Rarity. “Lady Rarity, MP. Let me introduce AJ, professor and gray market liquor dealer.”

Applejack glowered at Rainbow Dash. She then turned and curtsied to Rarity, her waistcoat scrunching with the motion. “A pleasure, milady.”

Rarity returned the curtsy. “Likewise, a pleasure.” She made some mental notes about Applejack. The accent had a few hitches and affectations in it. A country belle’s accent, but not as natural as it seemed. The curtsy had been performed accurately, but not quite as fluidly as it could have been. And of course, all this fell into the context of Applejack’s two sources of income.

“I have a few more papers to grade, but we can take care of your presumable business transaction at my home afterwards.” Applejack gestured to the door. “Feel free to have a look around the campus while you’re waiting.”

A significant wait later, Applejack led Rarity and Rainbow to her home on the outskirts of town. A large farm with an aging plantation house in the center.

“Forgive me again for the wait, my dears. It is finals season, and I have a lot of papers left to grade. Best to get as many as possible out of the way, so the stack is smaller for tomorrow.” Applejack trotted up the well-worn path. On either side of them, fields stretched for several acres, cotton plants wafting in the moonlit breeze. Earth ponies trotted in between the lanes, carrying bulky equipment that Rarity did not recognize.

Rarity lacked extensive knowledge of agriculture. The mechanics seemed the same as Coronan farming. Most plants had to be meticulously maintained and cared for in order to grow at night. Even in Corona, not everyone had the time or ability to cast shadows or adjust temperature in order to make plants grow.

Finally, they arrived at the house. Rarity headed for the door, but Applejack waved her away. “No, no, my dear. Our destination is around the back.”

Another trek later, Rarity found herself in front of an aging, but well-maintained barn. Applejack swung the door open, and Rarity nearly vomited. The smell oozing out of the place reminded her of a particular time that Sweetie Belle and her friends had jimmied open her liquor cabinet, and the sticky aftermath thereof. It also reminded her of those potatoes she had forgotten to throw out. Or perhaps it reminded her of one of Opal’s less pleasant expulsions onto her couch. It had the same quality as fine wine: the longer she stood there, the more layers revealed themselves to her.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash both took a deep whiff of the odor. “Ah yes, coming along nicely,” Applejack murmured.

“Bracing,” Rainbow Dash agreed.

Applejack reached into a coat pocket, pulled out a finely embroidered handkerchief. “Here you are, dear. I will concede it takes some getting used to.”

Rarity took the handkerchief, held it delicately up to her nose, and followed Applejack and Rainbow inside.

There were ponies in here too, mixing and adjusting and checking on things. Barrels sat everywhere, stacked and sideways and in the middle of being filled. Rarity thought she imagined a green haze filling the air, or a green glow poking out of some of the barrels, but surely such a notion…

“Now, before we go any further, there is the delicate matter of payment.”

“Oh, yeah, about that. This time I actually do want delivery. Everypony threw a hissy fit about me carrying it over the border myself last time.”

Applejack nodded. “I did warn you about that.”

Dash shrugged. “Whatever. What’s it gonna run me?”

“Let’s say, forty.”

“Thirty.”

Applejack chuckled at that. “This isn’t a negotiation, shug. But since you’re a repeat customer, I’ll do it for thirty-eight.”

“Done.” Rainbow Dash reached into a zippered pocket, and pulled out a hooful of gold squares. Rarity noted a few words and a string of numbers stamped on each one before AJ took them.

It made sense, of a sort. Rainbow Dash lacked the connections to get crescents, and Coronan pounds must be useless in the Nightscape.

Applejack pulled out a loupe from a pocket, looked at a few of the ingots. “Excellent.” She waved a hoof around the room. “Feel free to pick it out yourself, they should all be clearly labelled.”

At last they emerged from the barn, and the smell of untainted air came as a surprise to Rarity. How long did we spend in there, that I adjusted to such a disgusting odor?

Applejack smiled. “In honor of our continued business transactions, and you not being court-martialed yet, I insist you spend the cycle here. And of course, we’ll have to sample some fungale before you leave.”

Rarity had not lowered the handkerchief from her nose. From another noble, such an invitation would be the pinnacle of familiarity. To decline such an invitation would be social suicide. But despite Applejack’s professorship, family business, and accent, Rarity still could not place her position in the social ladder. And did she owe such a courtesy to a Nightscapist? Did Applejack owe it to her? Did the Nightscape have the same delicate social rules as the Empire?

I’ve done it again.

Rainbow Dash turned to Rarity, raised an eyebrow.

Rarity curtsied. “We would be delighted. Such a show of hospitality from somepony we barely know is quite a mark of trust.”

Applejack smiled. “Excellent! Follow me to the house, and I shall have your rooms prepared.” She pulled a pocketwatch out of her waistcoat. “And impeccable timing at that. It is almost time for lunch.”

Prologue: An Unset Sun / Unbroken Night

Egos clash
A petty fight
An unset sun
Unbroken night

A landscape scarred
A culture marred
A weary traveler
A spark of life

A strange companion
A burning question
Prejudice and fear
Too deep to fathom

Bats and birds
Eggs and grass
Sand and seas
An empty flask

Night and day
Blue and gold
Wax and wane
'Til new is old