If Chance Will Have Me Queen
A full moon hung low in the sky, tinted a distinctive shade of orange-red. The ponies of Equestria named it, rather fittingly, the blood moon.
Parents often told their foals that whilst the blood moon was out, monsters would come from Tartarus and gobble them up, so they better stay inside and hope for the morning sun to come, for none were safe under it’s insidious light. It was a silly myth borne out superstition.
If anything, monsters should fear the night, for it belonged to only one.
Princess Luna gazed over the crevasse of the hill upon the small town from her wicked chariot, illuminated in the unnatural light of her sickly moon.
“There, that is our quarry,” she spoke softly, but her tone was ice. The light wind caused her cape to flap. Her cold eyes never leaving the confines of the village, her focus centrally upon what lay before her.
“We shall descend immediately, your Highness,” grunted the foremost guard at the head of the carriage pack. He shifted his body weight downwards, pulling on the cords at the side of the chariot. The other guards followed his example. Soon the town became ever clearer to the Lunar Princess’s piercing eyes. Below, the streets were dark, even for a village at night.
It was but a small farming village, five hundred inhabitants at most, living together in their idealistic thatched roofed houses, amongst their cobbled streets and makeshift stands to sell their wares. But this night it was all but empty, no sound of the work pony’s hooves against cobble, no foals playing merrily amongst the fallen leaves of Autumn. The doors were barred, and the windows nailed shut.
The silence of the night was deafening.
Even the shadows did not stir. If fear had a smell, this place was drenched in it, basking in its horrid odour. The dreams she tasted upon her tongue were bitter and foul, agony permeated throughout every strata of the town. It was the taste of magic most foul. A deep, hateful, spell, to a regular unicorn unrecognisable, but Luna’s deeper understanding of all that was arcane allowed her to pierce the veil of the mortal realm. The magic she perceived was like inky tentacles that dug deep within the town’s psyche, smothering the harmonic magic within its twisted, vile grip. Her senses told her that whatever was the source of this conundrum lay just beyond the precipice of the hamlet. The Warden of the Night frowned deeply.
This would not do.
The sudden descent, mingled with her attire, created the image a giant predatory bat descending from on high, her two teal eyes twinkling in the orange glow of her moon.
No, this night belonged to no monsters.
For when the blood moon hung…
The Princess of the Night hunted.
The hill overlooking the town was low-lying between the crevasse of two larger peaks. Facing its frontal side, a fearsome jagged maw was present, curved like a smile, etched into the side of the hill and saturated by darkness that prevented all but the most vigilant from seeing within.
Luna left her guards outside. They were unnecessary for the task at hoof. They would secure the borough and reassure the scared villagers that their Princess would end their plight.
Their true princess.
One who did not cower from the dark but embraced and commanded it.
The entrance to the cave was damp and utterly excluded from the light of the outside world. The hollow had the appearance of being dug into the hillside as if by some great beast. It reeked of the ick smell of moist decay, not too dissimilar to the scent of rotting mushrooms. The rocks that acted as her path were slippery, covered in a thick layer of moss that grew in dark places of the world. It made traversing the increasingly narrow fissure perilous. The only sound within was the steady drip of an unseen water source falling intermediately against the limestone floor. The rotten smell grew acuter the further she traversed inward, until a distinct clearing became apparent.
The opening was a large space roughly spherical in shape with a coned ceiling. It was quintessentially bare otherwise. The only notable feature was a single shaft of light that pervaded the void. The rocks of the ceiling parted oddly, forming in such a way to form a makeshift window. The sun could never enter a place like this, only the brightest of moonlight, which gleamed upon the enclave floor. A little respite from the utter gloomy nothingness of the lair, even in the foulest of places one could still find a degree of fairness, if one looked for it.
The floor though did not share the same qualities as the rest of the hovel with rags and dusty books strewn about its surface intermixed with metal trinkets, empty cases and shattered glasses. Ripped pages decorated the floor as if it were some primitive carpet, some of which detailed eloquently written cursive writing, others illustrated unintelligible scrawl, ink splayed violently to and fro.
Just beyond the light a dirty, torn, white shawl. Around it was an empty lantern alongside meaningless finery, jewels, necklaces, and bracelets alike. However, amongst the inconsequential items, a small chalice sat upon a rock, an indeterminable liquid brew bubbled within. Luna wince slightly in distaste as she gazed upon it, her nose scrunching. Her own magica essence seemed to dull slightly the further she advanced near its inconspicuous placement. The black magic was strongest here, Luna had found the nexus of dark energy apparently.
Princess Luna emerged into the light, basking in the power of her moon, her full glory apparent, her fury righteous and her power unconquered. Whatever capability such a thing held still paled under the the might of the full moon. Dark magic was but a perversion of the essence of the night and thus wholly inadequate to challenge it. Luna awaited her foe.
The white shawl moved.
“Something wicked this way comes,” croaked a weary voice, distorted but not enough that its feminine tone was lost upon Luna. It sounded more exasperated then indignant.
Luna was silent as the hooded figure moved its elongated head back and forth, the dull moonlight unable to pierce the darkness yet. The closer she stepped through, the clearer the creature became. She once again fought back the urge to recoil.
To describe it as hideous was an affront to dialectal, little words within the common tongue could be used to describe such a malformed, putrid and diminished creature that the divines had given such an unwise birth. Its body was bipedal though the way it patted the floor indicated that it’s hind legs were not strong enough alone to support its laborious weight. Its legs and arms were bent like a mongrel dog, but each appendage ended with a hideous bird like a claw, half a hoof large. Pieces of feather and fur matted horribly together as if sown by an inexperienced seamstress. The hair stopped short of the trunk of the body, where pale, almost translucent skin, floppily hung between grey rags that barely covered its mass. The collar bones horrendously protruded out along its upper chest, as if broken, while the chest itself was compressed and gaunt.
Each breath it took was a haunting laboured groan. Its neck was elongated and serpentine in nature. The shawl covered the head down to the shoulders. The face was by far the most difficult to comprehend, visibly bird-like but the snout bore the appearance of a malformed wolf. Extended rows of jagged teeth jutted out over the top of the mouth, clearly suffering from overbite. The eyes were large, forward facing and completely glassy.
It was blind.
The little moonlight reflected within them. It became apparent to Luna that the instinctive patting of the ground was an attempt to garner the Its bearings.
“So, you are the Witch that the village folk whisper of?” spoke the Princess of the Moon measuredly, only barely hiding her repulsion from her voice.
“Aye,” it chortled, grinning horribly. “And so, the Moon has come.” The Witch's head bobbed aimlessly towards Luna, halting briefly to look at her with dead eyes as if it could still see. “Fair you are, yet a foulness it hides beneath.”
“We hath cometh to sojourn thine abhorrent plague of our subjects.”
“Of course, oh of course,” it laughed, it was a wicked hollow laugh, shrill and evil. “I admit my fault. Though, late is the hour of your arrival, what for?” It tapped its chin curiously.
“A kingdom requires diligent governance, we have many matters to attend to” replied Luna testily feeling affronted by the implied accusation of negligence.
“Hmm, no doubt!” it said harshly. It laughed again, thick snot pulsating from its horrid nostrils, it took a moment to calm once more, though the knowing grin of Cheshire proportions lingered. It shuffled to the side, wobbling slightly. Luna matched its movements, carefully watching its claws. They shone like sharpened blades in the twinkling moonlight, a looming menace if ever there was one. “And do they appreciate such governance?” Luna flinched somewhat, a sudden wave of bitterness overcame her. She almost spoke rashly before she caught herself.
“We do not see the relevance?”
“Alas it has everything to do with it,” it whispered coarsely, the creature’s head snapped up violently. It’s horrid glassy eyes meeting Luna’s again, the temptation to look away was prodigious, but the Moon Princess would not falter against some mere beast. Her blood was strong and her courage fast, she would not be cowed by meaningless words! She quickly found her fortitude again.
“You shall cease your foul activities post-haste. We shall be mercifully swift in the execution of your punishment in return. Prolonging the inevitable shall make it only more so…arduous for thine self.” She let the threat linger in the air, to solidify her malicious intent.
“Is that what you have come for. To threaten and postulate yourself? To convince those that serve you that you remain a gracious and wise lord? Oh, what folly!” It waved a claw dismissively in Luna’s direction. “Stop this grandiosity, it ill suits you.” The creature paused. “It is a feature more befitting of your sister.” Luna immediately stiffened, which cause the creature to howl in mirth before degrading into rough coughs and pained sputtering.
“We shall not be belittled by some warped fiend!” roared Luna. A few loose rocks fell from the ceiling. The creature’s grin faded somewhat into a lopsided scowl. Luna’s patience grew ever thinner, the desire to call upon her magic and strike at the vermin grew increasingly difficult to control.
“A fiend!” it hissed. “Perhaps I should educate you towards the truth, hmmm?” it inquired, as it shuffled forward to the light, Luna stepped back into the dark. “Is that what you desire? Or has that crown grown so fat on thine head that you perceive only thine own hubris.” It pointed its mangled finger accusatorily. Luna’s wings flared in anger. “Beholden to your ambition, you would claim all that there is, yet I fear your will is but a slave to thine own darkness, just as I am.” It flared its frontal paws in a sweeping motion to indicate towards its body. Luna’s composure faltered, her very body shook with anger, to be spoken of in such a manner by the this…this thing.
“What even for do you speak?”
“We know why you come,” she spoke abjectly, as if speaking of something as mundane as the weather. “I know…I know, down here in the dark.” A tense silence lingered between them, the only sound being the low groans emanating from the creature. It shifted its weight to its side, slowly writhing towards Luna. The creature’s maw opened and closed several times, words lost before they could even be spoken. The creature hummed and mumbled. Eventually, the quiet whisper of a voice finally broke the silence.
“You cannot deny it, you hear them too, the little whispers,” the Witch hissed, barely audible to the ear. “That’s how it starts, the fear that turns those you trust against you. Gratitude always turns to envy and then hatred. For they hate what they possibly cannot understand. But why do I preach to the already converted, hmmm? You only have look at what you see within yourself.”
“We do not know of what you speak, these are but the ramblings of the incoherent, we are not alike, to compare my majesty to such a fallen travesty as yourself is laughable.”
“Careful now princess, for the greater heights to which your hubris rises, evermore deep shall be your fall…”
“Our fall? We must admit for a monster you have provided us the quaintest amusements” mocked Luna. “Alas all things must come to an end. We have a duty to fulfill.” Her horn hummed with her magic. The building of a spell that would sever the foul being from nape to chops, she had yet to try out her newest piece of morbid art on a living being.
“Do you wish to know of your own providence?” the Witch asked suddenly, empty eyes never far from leaving Luna’s gaze. Luna paused, her spell receded slightly, she admitted privately to herself that she had be taken aback by such a proposal, if only temporarily. Luna allowed herself a small laugh, amongst these fairy tales and pathetic mewling’s of the clearly insane, at least she took solace in the ridiculousness of those claiming a knowledge of the wheel of fortune. Such claims belonged amongst the idiocracy of fools and beggars. “In the dark, it is easier to see the flickers of fate. It would be this one’s privilege to enlighten thee.” It shifted in faux-bow before the Night Princess.
“Gypsy prophecy is of little worth to us, your supposed clairvoyance is nothing more than a parlour trick,” Luna spat.
“Oh, I know, my magic is of little consequence to thee, ha. However, is there no curiosity within thee to see beyond the veil of the present?” The Witch seemed to pause for a moment. A flash of some emotion passed over her face, sadness, regret or was it reverie for what was no lost. “You are a burning star in the abyss, as clear the bluest sky. I believe fate would have me show you the precipice of the brushstrokes of reality. Even if it is no more than gypsy magic, what harm would bartering a few words with me entail, hmmm?”
Luna had little patience to exchange words with the damned, but some part of her was drawn to the creature like a cat in play with a captured mouse. A smug satisfaction grew over her. Let the Witch say what she would. Let her plead for leniency in what trite little way she could. No doubt this supposed ‘clairvoyance’ would be nothing more then some sombre piece of flattery and praise for the Lunar Princess. A sad tale told by a fool begging for a reprieve from almighty justice. Luna stood assured that such mercy was not forthcoming, but she was content to let the Witch think otherwise for a time. She let a smile tug at her lips. She let out what was the semblance of a imperious snort.
“Speak thy piece.”
The room grew, dark and for the fleeting moment, Luna felt her stomach churn. The light flicked, and for the first time since she had arrived her eyes struggled to adapt to the dark. The chalice bubbled, and a foul wind swept through the cave. The entire room had changed materially as if they were not within a damp cave within the side of a hill but within the bowels of Tartarus itself. The creature stood upon its hind legs, its full horrid glory displayed, briefly transcending its decrepit state to embody the consequence of what it was about to speak.
However whatever unease that came from such actions subsided just as quick and settled into almost something…familiar to Luna. Something both disturbing yet utterly comforting, horror entwined with a sense of belonging and purpose.
“I-I see a Queen!” the Witch stammered, her left claw outstretched, shaking furiously and pawing for some invisible item before her. “Her coat as black as night, her eyes like the void.” Luna recoiled as the witch’s voice grew in power, the shadows of the room seemed to coalesce around her. “As beautiful as she is terrible. She will shake the foundations of the very earth. Crowned in steel her greatness would consume the land, till naught but shadow remains.” The room’s darkness seemed to flicker and dance menacingly around the Princess. Surely this was some trick of the mind? Smoke and mirrors of some cheap sorcerer desperate to impress? “All would adore and fear her.”
“Then good tidings perhaps you do bear,” Luna replied somewhat sarcastically, not willing to dispense with her controlled demeanour. Yet, she could not deny the image that lay before her in her mind and the ever-smouldering fire of her desire that accompanied it.
The great warrior she was, enchanting and fierce, beloved and feared rightly amongst those lesser then her, as it rightly should have been. One that would put an end to the tyranny of the sun. Had she not felt it? In the whisper of a dream, it had been. Far from ever searching light, where none could see her deep and dark desires. She had no prick to spur her intent, but always lingered her vaulting ambition. Once more such thoughts crept ever so closely to the surface of her mind. They asked familiar questions. Had her sister not unjustly usurped the adoration Luna was due?
Had Celestia not disgraced her? Had she not hastened Luna’s enemies, dissuaded Luna’s friends and mocked Luna’s gains amongst her subjects? And for what reason? That she was the elder? The supposed wiser?
Where concern and intrigue had rested initially within the Lunar Princess, a bubbling rage and disquiet brewed.
Fie! Fie upon Celestia and all she had wrought against Luna, all the lies and deceit, all the insults masked as advice! All the belittling of her role! What Luna saw in her dark vision was more than justly an image of Celestia reaping what she sowed. The more her yearning grew, the more the beating of her heart followed. She could not quash her feelings. No matter how ashamed they had made her feel.
“Alas, heed me,” warned the Witch her tone weary and troublesome. She pointed threateningly at Luna. “She is as empty as her desires. Untamed ambition, greed, and envy are all she knows. Her cup will know no empty, for not even the entirety of the earth will finally make her happy.” The Witch scraped some dirt into her paw and symbolically lets its slip through the gaps in her claws. “For what she desires cannot be taken.” Though blind head sadly followed as the dirt crumpled to the floor and unfolded her talons to reveal nothing. She slammed the floor and rose herself upon her hind legs. Her full and terrible height in all its foul detail.
“She will cast down the light, and the sky will be dark as the infinity of the void!” Luna was enraptured, the warnings of the Witch but the small details of little worth in the face of victory. She could perceive it now. The image of the failing sun, the moon triumphant, the populace rejoice as their world is wrapped in an eternal lullaby. Let Celestia finally taste the indignity of being condemned to the pages of history, her and her petty ideals. And with the Night’s predicated ascendency the smouldering fire of her wants had now become a burning inferno.
“And where light falls, the eternal nightmare rises!
“But there can be no shadow without light.” Suddenly the room quieted, the crawling shadows that had caressed her, now retreated, recoiling at her very presence. Luna looked around bemused, the darkness subsided, and a hollow, cold feeling encompassed her. “The connection shall be broken, and she shall fall, fall so deep that only when the stars come forth and bid the Night Queen aid shall she be free. To be judged by those who are of five charms worn and one crowned. She will be broken, humbled and repentant. Only then shall she beg for mercy, so it shall be!”
With those words the spell broke and the shadows faded into nothingness. Luna scowled, a bead of sweat ran down her forehead. She could little suppress her shock as the mare in black she had seen before her was encompassed by brightly coloured light, a crying neigh sounding the Night Queen’s defeat, till all that was left was but the taste of the alleged power envisaged. Within the window of her mind, after all that she had imagined, it disappeared leaving just…Luna. As she always had been.
With the sudden and unwelcome turn of the prophecy, Luna’s awe quickly turned into black anger, and her indignant pride overtook her once more.
“The light! Charms and crowns!” she mocked harshly. “Doubter,” she scoffed, her mouth teeth gritting furiously against each other. “Riddles and gibberish! We pay them no heed! Damned be you and all of which you speak of!”
“Heed my words not, and your destiny is all but sealed,” the Witch said forebodingly.
“Naïve fool, blind you are, but do you not perceive what greatness has stepped into your hovel this evening! I am the moon! The night is my domain!
“My destiny is mine alone for the taking, and it shall be mine, for I say it shall be so! I have waited long enough. The time for talking has ended, you have outlived your amusement to us. Damn thee should thy cry enough!” The fury within Luna bordered upon rabid, her face countered into a growl, her magic hissed menacingly, sparks illuminated her angered visage, her wings spread out menacingly, the darkness grew about, the moon light faded as it overlord drew upon its incredible energy.
“What you do tonight you shall only condemn you to your fate,” wheezed the Witch, forlorn as if Luna’s decision was but an inconvenience, solemn and long absent from care, her eyes glistened in the dark, reflecting the building up of magic upon Luna’s horn. “I do not wish you fortune Princess, for I foresee that you shall garner none of it. Strike me and be cursed!” A ragged laugh built within its throat, Luna’s eyes narrowed in a fury. Rage overcame her, a biting desires to lash out a strike down the vermin before her overwhelmed all other thoughts.
Her retribution was sudden and swift.
There was a brief pause, then the very edges of the cave illuminated in a bright aqua light before it faded again, and the deafening silence returned. Smoke rose to the ceiling.
Yet as Luna opened her eyes, there was nothing before her, only shadow and the markings where her bolt struck and split the chalice asunder and set flame to the pages upon the floor. Luna whipped around furiously but found nothing. Her foe had vanished, all that remained seemingly had been the faint memory of her words and the ashes of the rags of the beast. Luna let out several long-ragged breaths, before finally composing herself. She turned furiously towards the entrance, to leave as she had once entered. For a moment as she had exited the enclave, Luna though she could hear the faint echo of laughter.
Luna paid it no heed.
Rather she was content if not unshaken that her task was completed. The darkness had lifted, its foul magic dissipated and soon the sun would rise and cleanse the land. But the image of the crowned black queen illuminated in the pale moonlight lingered within the darkest recesses of her mind, a budding desire ignited within her, that such a thing may come to pass. This desire came in the form of whispers, speaking sweet words to spur her to taken action on her long held ambition. They were only whispers, easily dismissed to those inclined to do so.
Yet, as she left this foul place, she did not silence them.
Author's Note
After two years, it feels good to be writing again! A little story inspired by Macbeth. Specifically his scene with the witches. There's a couple of Shakespeare references in their.
I hope people enjoy it! Feel free to correct any grammar errors I've committed! I am quite rusty! 
