Under the Dark

Canterlot.

The seat of the Equestrian government is a truly enigmatic place. More eloquent than the tiny hamlet of Ponyville that rests below its sweeping spires, Canterlot remains not so far removed to make a country pony feel unwelcome. She is as cosmopolitan as the labyrinthine street corners of posh Manehattan, yet chic and couture in her own subtle way. Less lusty than the golden, burlesque temples of Los Pegasus to which ponies looking to make a quick bit pray, but she commands a far deeper respect than mere money can buy. Lady Canterlot is a dowager who’s had her share of the limelight. She feels no need to boast, and welcomes all her nation’s children in equal measure.

But not every night under Canterlot’s skies is a quiet one. On a certain such evening, basked in the pale glow of Luna’s radiance, a torch remains burning in the city’s highest tower. These are the private apartments of the crown princess of the sun, who persists this night beyond her hour.

* * * * *

“Eight hours?” Princess Luna gazed at the proclamation inscribed upon the parchment before her eyes in abject shock. “You cannot be serious!”

Celestia, eldest sister and matriarch of the Equestrian nation, lay wearily upon an embroidered rug before a crackling hearth. Her hour past for the day, she wanted little more than to lay her head upon the first satin pillow she could find and pass into blissful unconsciousness, until her internal alarm lock reminded her of her morning duties. Sleeplessness breeds grumpiness, but she retained the decorum to wait for the servant tasked with replacing the linens to beat a hasty retreat before levitating her heavy tiara from her forehead and rubbing the throb from her temples in a rather unprincesslike way.

“Luna,” She chastised gently, eyes closed. “You mustn’t speak that way around the servants. It frightens them.” Celestia heard her younger sister taking in a sharp breath, but cut her off. “And no, I did not mean to say that you frighten them. I’d hoped we’d be past that by now. I meant that they see in us souls above question - ageless rulers whom they trust in implicitly. We must maintain an air of cooperation in their eyes.”

Luna spun the parchment about in her magic and thrust it in the face of her elder. “You call this ‘cooperation’, my sister? A proclamation intended to reduce the number of moonlight hours each day from twelve to a mere eight?” Luna cast the paper aside before Celestia could raise complaint with having it shoved at her. “To what do I owe this one-sided decree? Are there insufficient sleep masks to distribute amongst the populace?”

Celestia sighed, recalling that there were still times where she felt the need to handle ‘kid-sister’ with appropriately-sized gloves. “It is not a proclamation, merely a proposed stratagem, and of course I planned to bring it to your attention before simply taking action upon it. The fact is, as time goes on and our nation expands, so too does our population. More hours of the day means more time for crops to grow, and more light by which we ponies, who are not blessed with nightvision by nature, can be productive.”

Luna harumphed, her starry locks fluttering sharply with an annoyed tilt of her head. “And what of bat ponies? Their sight, by contrast to other tribes, is weaker by day. Is it proper to deny them equal time to ‘be productive’?”

“Bat ponies represent a small minority of the population, Luna--”

“Then discrimination is the order of the day, is it!?”

Celestia was on her hooves in an instant. She loomed over her sister and toughened her expression, though she kept her cool. “You know that’s not what I mean, Sister. Bat ponies are citizens of Equestria just like any other tribe, and I respect them as much as I do a pegasus or an Earth pony. But as princesses, you and I are sworn to make our decisions based upon what is best for the majority of our population. I have no intention of ending the night - it is both a wrong and foolish thing to do. But bat ponies represent a miniscule percentage of our population, and nearly all of them who come of age enter into your employ as a guard or soldier. They are not famers, not historians, not firefighters nor school teachers. In their primary vocation they will remain as effective as ever despite the lessening of the night hours, whereas the multitude of other ponies who toil under our skies will benefit greatly from extended time by which to function.”

“What to you plan to do about sleep, then?” Luna seethed. “Are our citizens to work themselves to the bone and never seek respite?”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Everypony knows how important day and night cycles are to all of us, as living things. But this is a minor shift. Night cycles will still exist, and the average pony only requires eight hours of sleep a night to begin with. There will still be sufficient time.”

Luna had her brow narrowed for so long that it was beginning to hurt. With a flurry of her feathery wings she pranced about the room, talking with her posture. “Do you believe that’s all ponies do at night? Sleep? That everypony in Equestria takes perfectly to their rest at the falling of the moon and stays that way precisely until the cock crows? Do you suspect that ponies are only active during daylight hours? What of the species of animals and plants that thrive at night? What of the inspiration of a moonlit lagoon, to fuel the minds of our greatest thinkers and the hearts of our greatest artists?”

“None of that is going away--”

“But it is going away,” Luna insisted. “You just said it yourself. ‘The average pony only requires eight hours of sleep a night to begin with.’ So they must now either spend part of their sleep cycle in daylight, thus ruining your plans of ‘productivity’, or they must sacrifice the beauty and joy a warm summer night can bring, or the crackling of a hearth before a snowy backdrop in darkness.”

Celestia gritted her teeth, but did not open her mouth to show it. Swallowing, she smacked a pile of papers on a desk across the room with her magic, shuffling but not scattering them. “Do you know what’s begun to happen in our country, Sister?” She accused. “I suppose you don’t because the daily reports aren’t brought to you, but are you aware that as our population expands, so does hunger? So does poverty? So does want? Magic can only do so much, Luna. Each year we have a surplus of nothing, and though it is slight, each year grows a deficit of materials. Our output is starting to fall behind our needs. Something must be done to stop this before it becomes so ingrained of a problem that it changes our very society for the worse. Do you think I like the idea of shortening the night?”

Luna blew on her bangs and looked droll. “Do you not?”

Celestia finally gave herself over to a sneer, her voice raising beyond decorum. “This is not a personal competition between us, Luna! The day and the night are not our playthings - they are not a game of one-upmanship between you and I! They do not represent us, we represent them, and it is our duty to use them in the most responsible way we can!” Celestia paused to rein herself in. “And if you are going to ask me which I find more important between the coziness and introspection of the night versus food in a foal’s belly, well...I believe I have made it clear which one I would choose, though I lament the loss of either.”

Luna said nothing. With a dirty scowl maring her stygian complexion, she made a show of staring forlornly out the window, as though the entire horizon were about to stretch from a hangpony’s noose.

Celestia softened. “Luna...if I didn’t care about the night, would I have bothered to raise the moon every single day for a thousand years on my own? Raising the moon was never easy for me and it never will be because it is not my sphere of influence, but you are no more the princess of the night than I am princess of the day. We are the trusted servants - the scions of our heavenly bodies. Can you truly look all of our subjects in the eye and tell them we have chosen not to address the deficit that seeks to harm their way of life?”

Luna’s jaw was working, as though she were chewing on tough leather. “There must be other ways. We ought to explore--”

“There are no other ways, my sister,” Celestia insisted, “not any short of forcing our citizens into specific vocations or putting them on strict rations with no end in sight for all of their days. This is the best way to deal with the problem without severely impacting everypony’s way of life.” The crown princess managed a reassuring smile. “Is it truly so bad? Look at it this way. You would have more time off, no?”

Luna’s eyes lanced out to stab her sister from afar, their respective lids narrowing. “For you to say something like that to me, Sister, after you have experienced a night in my slippers and you now know firsthand the importance of my work...for you to think I can be placated with an idea such as altering the very cycles of nature around us simply so I can sleep a few extra hours each day--”

“--that’s not what I--”

“ENOUGH!” Luna shouted, her magic hurling an inkwell into a stone wall where it shattered completely. “I believe you when you say that you believe you have our citizen’s best interests in mind, but you have not thought this through entirely. There has to be another way, and until you are willing to sit down with me and seek it out, I will listen to no more prattle!”

Celestia’s ears flattened. She bowed her head, her expression one of loss. “...then you leave me no choice, my sister. I love you dearly, but I am the elder sister. I am the crown princess. Every day we argue over this is another day lost, and I already have the support of the counselors and officials. If you are able to find another way, I promise that as your sister I will listen; for even though you won’t acknowledge it, I honestly do not want to do this. But in the meantime...I must ask you to raise the moon four hours later in the day from now on. Please don’t--”

Luna raised a brow. “Please do not what, Sister?”

Celestia choked off the sentiment. “Nothing. I have said what I needed to say.”

“Please do not what, Sister?” Luna repeated.

“Luna--”

“I know that look in your eye,” Luna accused, staring down her taller sister for all she could manage. “It’s fear. There has been only one time in all my days I can remember you being afraid of what I would do. You think that because this decision has to do with lessening my sphere of influence, that I will resort to the evils of Nightmare Moon to prevent it, don’t you.”

“...we agreed never to utter that name again outside of historical significance,” Celestia muttered.

“But you’re afraid that’s what I’ll do,” Luna persisted. “That’s why you’re trying to ‘handle’ me so carefully. Once a villain, always a villain, yes?”

“No!!” Celestia choked. “That isn’t what I think at all! Luna you are NOT a villain! You were upset, very upset, and the nightmare power found you at just the right time. I love you, I know that it all wasn’t truly your fault, and I know you would never stoop to something like that of your own volition!”

Luna made for the door, her hooves echoing against the crackling of embers in the hearth. “I wish you did know me, my Sister. But clearly you do not. You are right - you are the crown princess, and that binds even me to following your commands when they are absolute. So I will do as you ask. But I will not agree with it, I will not like it, and I will be actively seeking a way to stop it--” she sniffed, blowing out a brazier by the door as she opened it, “--and whatever you may think, the way I choose to stop it will not involve trying to murder you or conquer the land for myself. Tch.”

“I...I know you wouldn’t...Luna…”

The chamber door closed on Celestia’s morose sigh.

* * * * *

Minutes later, Princess Luna found her gait gradually mutating into a skulking canter. Her pace increased with each conclusion she drew regarding the recent conversation with her sister, and every guard she passed in the halls gave her a wide berth.

“...doesn’t know me at all…” Luna muttered aloud. “...a thousand years raising the moon, a night doing my job, all the kind words she has had for me, and she doesn’t even try to understand my position. It is madness, altering our way of life on such a grandiose scale...clearly she has not considered possible alternatives...she would prefer to simply pass judgement against those ponies who depend on the night. Who can argue with the darling image of a hungry filly? What a very convenient shield to hide behind. What of the wide-eyed and innocent bat filly? What am I to tell her? That her inactive time increases, while those of the other tribes flourish? Not fair...not any of it fair…”

Luna gave her attendants the eye - a clear signal to begone from her private apartments when she made her appearance, tasks complete or not. Therein lay her observatory with the tall curtains drawn back, and her chambers were bathed in the pale light of her orb in the sky. She walked to the windows, closing her eyes and turning her face heavenward as though for a warm shower.

“...to think that I would simply call up the villainy of the nightmare power voluntarily, just because of one disagreement...insulting that she thinks so little of me…circumstances were different back then...”

Luna spread her wings, straining her primaries to their fullest span in a catlike stretch. She failed to stifle a yawn, and when her jaw finally came under her own power again, she noticed a presence - a tickling sensation in the back of her mind, as though someone had lit a candle there and was passing it back and forth under her brain. It was a feeling as unpleasant as cracked hooves on a chalkboard to her, and her eyes snapped open wide.

She had only felt such a thing one time before - the last time her sister had feared her.

Luna’s heartbeat tripled in the turning of a second. She whirled about, only to find that nearly half of her chambers were simply gone - blotted out from her sight, by a great wave of glistening, ichorous blackness that folded and jiggled upon itself like a mockery of pudding. It was thick like tar, reached clear to the tall ceiling, and emitted a scent Luna could only ever describe to historians as ‘evil’.

Terror gripped the night princess. The last time ‘it’ had come for her, the thing was less than half its present size - a mere oozing puddle that had caught her unawares. Now it wasn’t even bothering to conceal itself, and the sheer mass of it was horror enough.

“N-no...NO!!” Luna bowed her head and opened fire instantly, piercing the gloom with sizzling blasts of magic energy that burned holes in the very stone behind the blob. “You cannot be here! I am rid of you - you are no more!! Guards! GUARDS!!”

Muffled shouts rose instantly from the other side of the door followed by wicked bucking against the wood, but the mass coated the portal, blackening out the sounds and blows. The holes Luna had rent in it simply closed up. It began to unfold like a pie crust being laid out, but there was no end to the layers, and in seconds it filled so much of the room that Luna had naught but a tiny sphere against the window in which to maneuver.

The princess kicked wildly at the glass, shattering it with ease, and leapt to her escape, seeking to take wing. She was barely off the precipice when a great tendril of the void clamped around her midsection, plucking her easily out of the sky and dragging her towards her fate.

“No, NO!! Unhand me! Begone!! Sister!! Celestia!! SAVE--”

Without maw or mouth, the creature emitted a ghastly wail that remotely resembled the cackling laughter of the thousand-year-old Mare in the Moon.