The Moon Victorious

by Forthwith

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Luna, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe
Length: 32533

Nightmare Moon is back from her thousand year exile, and Twilight Sparkle is utterly unprepared to triumph with magic or with words. The two join forces (not that Twilight has much of a choice) to ‘save’ Equestria from eternal night.

Twilight Sparkle, the Solar Regent, was frustrated. She’d never had a chance against Nightmare Moon, and now she had to live with the consequences of her failure and the moon goddess on the throne beside her.

Shining Armor, Captain of the Royal Guard, was frustrated. His liege was gone. His marefriend was somewhere doing something. His sister was showing all the early warning signs of one of her infamous breakdowns. Worst of all, everypony was keeping secrets.

Sweetie Drops, Equestrian special agent, was frustrated. Work kept piling up, and there seemed to be more and more monsters to fight every day. She needed help.

Cadance, the Crystal Princess, was frustrated. Being somepony’s snack was beneath her, but needs must.

Tempest Shadow, wanderer, was frustrated. Why did life always insist on kicking her while she was down? If it wanted to maintain even the pretext of fairness, her next destination would be her last.

Luna, the Lunar Diarch, was delighted. Everything had gone perfectly since her return from exile.

Published 2020-03-28 16:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-04-19 02:24:51 UTC

Prologue

Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters
Everfree Forest, Equestria
First Summer Moon 1, 1001 SE (Solar Era)

“Come on now, y’all,” Applejack said, or at least so Twilight thought. With how much of her focus was devoted to the magically inert Elements of Harmony, it could have been anypony – if she even remembered the mare’s name right to begin with. “She needs to concentrate.”

Perhaps a minute later, Twilight idly noted that her five personal distractions were gone. The thought slipped away as soon as it came.

“Just one spark,” Twilight mumbled to herself. According to the book, it only took a single spark to summon the sixth Element of Harmony. One little magical spark was all she required to restart the natural flow of magic through the Elements.

Twilight poked and prodded the inert stone spheres before her with her magic. She could see the dead, lifeless channels in them. They should be coursing with enough magic to strike down a goddess. These were the real artifacts, not some distraction Nightmare Moon placed here.

But nothing worked. Every attempt Twilight made was rebuffed as if the Elements themselves objected to her ministrations. It made no sense! There had to be a way to revive them. Why would the book say it was possible if somepony had never done it before? The book had to be right.

“I hope,” Twilight whimpered to herself. Her teeth bit down on her lip as a terrible feeling settled into her chest.

The oddly metallic sound of hooves on stone echoed through the crumbling ruins. For a moment, Twilight paused to think which of the ponies who came here with her uninvited wore horseshoes. Pegasi never did. The unicorn would never be caught dead in plain, simple horseshoes, so she was out. Twilight had gotten far too personal a look at the pink one’s bare hooves, so that meant it was the cook.

Twilight shook her head. No, both the earth ponies were cooks or something. It was the farmer-cook.

Something sounded wrong though. A frown worked its way onto Twilight’s face. Applejack – Twilight really hoped she remembered a name right for once in her life – was the one who’d cleared out the distractions. Why was she back?

Eyes widening, Twilight leapt to her hooves, ready for anything. The hoofsteps did sound wrong. They were coming from in front of her, not from the barely functional doors behind her.

“Nightmare Moon!”

The dark alicorn had come. She walked calmly forward as if she had not a care in the world, as if the instruments of her defeat were not in the hooves of her enemy.

She walked as if the instruments of her defeat were worthless lumps of stone.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Nightmare Moon calmly replied. To Twilight’s disbelief, she sounded almost respectful.

Twilight felt herself mentally trip. This was the mare who, not a day earlier, had cackled and proclaimed the night would last forever like a lunatic?

Nonetheless, Twilight summoned up her magic in an instant. She shaped and formed it into a teleport. Flight was her only option.

“Ow!” Horn stinging, Twilight flinched and shook her head. The remnants of the half-formed teleport Nightmare Moon had interrupted crumbled and dissociated into the background magic of Equestria.

“You’re kidding, right?” Nightmare Moon said. Her tone fell somewhere between taunting and amused.

Not rising to the provocation, Twilight did the only sane and rational thing she could when she only had one option and tried again. She put her all into casting as fast as possible. Her horn protested, but it would be worth–

Twilight’s scream pierced the night. She collapsed to her knees. Her head fell downward as she tried to hide her horn away in the imagined safety of her own hooves.

“No need to bow. You are not my subject.”

Her head swimming, Twilight tried to teleport again as it was the only thing that came to mind. It stung just to call forth her magic, let alone focus it, but she could still manage to cast spells. She had to.

A small sigh escaped the alicorn now looming over Twilight. One of her armor-clad hooves shot forward.

Twilight braced herself, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Ow…” Twilight whimpered. The relatively gentle kick would have barely stung if her horn were in good health. In its current condition, Nightmare Moon was merely rubbing salt in the wound.

However, the blow did force Twilight to look up at Nightmare Moon. She was tall, as tall as Princess Celestia. The last time Twilight had felt so small, she’d been eight years old and staring starry-eyed up at her princess and new mentor.

“Come now, Twilight. My sister must have taught you better than to try the same thing over and over again.”

Twilight grit her teeth, an act which only reinforced how sharp Nightmare Moon’s were. This close, Nightmare Moon could tear into her throat before–

Nightmare Moon’s words only now registered. ‘Sister’? Nightmare Moon was Princess Celestia’s sister? The legend had read as such, but foals’ stories made regular and liberal use of their artistic license. Surely that was a lie.

No, true or not, it was a distraction. The fact was a relative triviality – a footnote in history – compared to escape.

But Nightmare Moon was right, as much as Twilight hated to admit it. Magic was not going win her her escape. Outcasting a goddess was a vain effort to begin with, maybe even outright impossible. Yet what other option did she have? Woefully underprepared as she was, her only skills were magic, research, and organization. She hardly thought offering to organize Nightmare Moon’s sock drawer would get her anywhere.

“Now with your permission, I would like to take this conversation elsewhere.”

Twilight tried not to let the shock show on her face. Nightmare Moon was asking for her permission? Of course, refusing would certainly have consequences – unpleasant consequences. Talking was good, though. Every second spent talking was another second she had to think of an escape plan.

Even though she knew she had no other option, Twilight was still hesitant in her reply. “Okay.”

A shiver ran down Twilight’s spine as Nightmare Moon smiled. An almost overwhelming amount of magic flooded into the room. The cyan glow at the tip of Nightmare Moon’s horn was nearly blinding.

And in an instant, the world returned to normal – or as normal as Nightmare Moon’s world ever was. It was still night, after all. What should have been daybreak had passed long ago.

That said, the place Twilight now found herself was well lit. Looking around, the magical lights floating about the admittedly comfy looking room absorbed shadows more than they projected light, or so it seemed to her eyes. A small throne rested on one side of the room, and scattered about were various other office fixtures, none unused, which blended into the background.

This hall screamed ‘throne room’, however small and homely it appeared. Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight spotted the Elements tucked away in a corner.

“Where are we?” Twilight tried her absolute best to make her question not sound like a demand.

“The temporary Night Court,” Nightmare Moon replied, as if that answered anything. She crossed the room with all the grace and poise expected of royalty, settling down onto her throne. Even so seated, she stared down at Twilight with her imposing height.

Only once she was obviously comfortable and at peace did Nightmare Moon speak again.

“Twilight Sparkle, I have banished my sister to the sun.”

The words hit like a train.

“You liar!” Twilight screeched.

“Then where is she? Why has the sun not risen?”

“She…” Twilight bit down on her lip, fighting not to tear up. Princess Celestia, generous and benevolent, had shared some of the secrets of the heavens with an inquisitive young filly. The world needed the sun. If the sun must share the sky with the moon, then so be it. There was no sun, therefore there was no Princess Celestia. QED.

Twilight cursed herself. If she were anypony else in the world, she could force herself to believe the sun’s absence to be a mere ruse, a trap, a plot. But no, her mind had to believe in facts, and evidence, and logic.

Staring at the floor, Twilight could only guess what Nightmare Moon’s face must look like. It had to be warped in manic glee as she watched Twilight struggle to accept reality.

Well, Twilight would hardly give the mare the satisfaction. She raised her head to glare back at Nightmare Moon.

Yet this only made Nightmare Moon’s smile grow.

“Now then,” Nightmare Moon said, her diction absolutely perfect. Something about that bothered Twilight. “I believe you have a…proposal to bring forward to the Night Court.”

For at least the second time tonight, Twilight’s mind ground to a halt.

“Speak, and you will be heard.”

Twilight fumbled with her mouth, seeking words that were not there.

“Come now, Twilight. What is the one thing I possess, might be persuaded to give, and you need?”

Twilight decided that instant that she hated Nightmare Moon personally. Before, she was just a villain that needed to be stopped. They were all over Equestria like weeds. That was what happened when a third of the population could alter reality with their minds. But this – this – this arrogance, this goading, this railroading was insufferable. Nightmare Moon was only after something from her.

A moment passed.

Twilight fought to keep her scowl from becoming a mere intense frown. Nightmare Moon wanted something from her. Assuming that something was not entertainment of one kind or another, she had something she might be able to use. The only question was what.

“I want Princess Celestia.”

Nightmare Moon raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Honestly, Twilight had expected more yelling and posturing at the demand. Still, she did her best to stare down Nightmare Moon to see just what she could get from her.

“If you insist,” Nightmare Moon finally said.

Twilight none-too-subtlety let her jaw drop.

“I might warn you, though. Is she what you need?”

A dozen objections ran through Twilight’s mind. She stomped down on each one, instead asking, “What do you mean?”

“Surely you cannot be so blind?” Nightmare Moon’s words came off as a question. To Twilight’s blank expression, she continued, “I conquered her once already when she was at her full strength. How would I lose in a rematch when she is weak from her foray into the sun?”

Unable to stop herself, Twilight ground her teeth together. Again, Nightmare Moon was railroading her into something.

A thought struck Twilight. It was not something useful so much as perhaps a means to gain information.

“Are you weak from banishment right now?”

Nightmare Moon’s grin grew positively feral. “That is the million bit question, is it not? Perhaps at this moment, I have nothing left, no magic to even conjure a tiny glass of water.”

No. No, Nightmare Moon was baiting Twilight. The kind of power she used and the ease with which she used it at the castle in the Everfree Forest was not what Twilight would expect to see from a mare scraping at the dregs of her power.

Then was Nightmare Moon lying about Princess Celestia being weak upon her return?

No. What would be the point? It wouldn’t change Twilight’s decisions except in very unlikely edge cases. If she actually managed to rescue Princess Celestia, she would make the plan foolproof enough to secret the princess away to prepare for battle before Nightmare Moon could intervene regardless.

And beyond that, there was still something bothering Twilight about Nightmare Moon. She had the feeling that once she figured it out, a facehoof would immediately follow, like a hard math problem with a simple, elegant solution.

“Oh!” Speaking of, Twilight’s mind stumbled upon the correct ‘request’ to make of the Night Court. “I need you to cycle day and night.” It was so obvious in hindsight. Any attempt to rescue Princess Celestia and save Equestria would require, well, Equestria to be alive. The world would freeze without the sun.

A half second later, Twilight realized she said that out loud and placed a hoof over her mouth. This was not a homework exercise with Princess Celestia even if Nightmare Moon rudely strung her along as though it were.

“Not quite.” Speaking more to herself than to Twilight, Nightmare Moon said, “Perhaps we might discuss that later.”

Later? That was a good sign. Or rather it was a not-bad sign. It suggested Nightmare Moon meant to keep Twilight alive – at least for now. Twilight felt just a little bit of the tension in her shoulders fade.

“Tell me, Twilight, what did you do before running off haphazardly into the Everfree and nearly dying?”

“I didn’t–”

Before Twilight could say more than two words, Nightmare Moon interrupted. “The Everfree is not as nice a place as it was a thousand years ago, especially so at night. Alone, you would have died. With those other mares and some…direction, you barely made it to the castle in one piece.”

It took all of an instant for Twilight to connect the dots. “You! You – you cast some spell and – and…”

And why on Equus had Nightmare Moon allowed Twilight to reach the Elements?

“You’re welcome,” Nightmare Moon said.

Twilight refused to dignify that with a response, not that her indignation made her predicament any less confusing.

“Now please answer the question.”

It took Twilight a few seconds to tear herself away from pondering what Nightmare Moon could possibly be up to and another few seconds to admit to herself that Nightmare Moon already knew the answer. Nothing she could say would give anything away.

Twilight grumbled, “I read a book about the Elements.”

“Which was…”

“Research?” Twilight hesitantly replied.

Nightmare Moon waved a hoof in a circle, silently asking for her to keep going.

“Gathering information?”

“Quite so. So what do you need?”

“Information,” Twilight said, fairly confident that she’d just reached the destination Nightmare Moon had railroaded her to. Still, there was the matter of what information she needed. “How to cycle day and night? How to rescue Princess Celestia?”

“No. You do not yet possess the magic to do either–”

Yet? Twilight tucked that thought away for later.

“–and as soon as I find her, I plan to arrange for your foalsitter to be taken care of. One way or another.”

Shouting, nearly screaming, Twilight said, “If you harm one hair of her mane–”

Twilight found herself seething silently under Nightmare Moon’s magic. Muted, words having failed her, she rushed forward, her magic flaring.

Before Twilight could form even the core of a spell, Nightmare Moon ripped the magic she’d summoned away from her. She collapsed to her knees again and grit her teeth to keep from crying out.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Nightmare Moon said, her voice icy, “her fate lies entirely in her and your good behavior. I suggest you think before you act. Thinking is what you’re good at, I hear.”

‘Good behavior’ being the key words, Twilight bit out an weak, “Apologies.” At least she could speak again.

“Apology accepted. Now then, what do you need information about?”

“I don’t know.” Sick of playing this game, Twilight guessed, “My current situation?”

Nightmare Moon sighed. “Close enough. You might find it curious that I not only knew who you were, but also that I showed up in that backwater Ponyville to begin with. What kind of place is that to make my triumphant return?”

Rather begrudgingly, Twilight had to admit Nightmare Moon had a point.

“I had an extended–” Nightmare Moon chuckled. “–conversation with my sister. I learned quite a number of interesting things about you, the least of which being your location.”

A shiver ran through Twilight. Her mind conjured up progressively worse things Nightmare Moon might have done to get that information, culminating in some of the most nightmarish tortures imaginable.

Jumping on anything to distract herself, Twilight asked, “What interesting things?”

Nightmare Moon smiled again, as creepy as ever. Rather cryptically, she said, “Today is a great crossroads in your destiny, Twilight. Perhaps I might simply kill you.”

Twilight took an unconscious half-step back.

“Perhaps you might get lucky, free my sister, and live out the life she planned for you. But I rather doubt it.”

“Or what?” Twilight snapped. “I become your minion and help you rule the world?”

Nightmare Moon looked as though she were fighting off a laughing fit, yet her tone was as even and regal as ever. “That would be a bit…cliché, would it not? I could hardly expect the heroine to betray her beloved, wise old mentor to the villain for power.”

Twilight opened her mouth, then closed it a second later. She had no idea how to respond to that.

“Please, Twilight. Do not presume me the fool.”

A mad goddess was bad enough, but a mad intelligent goddess was an unmitigated disaster. Twilight’s threat assessment of Nightmare Moon skyrocketed.

Sweat slowly suffusing her brow, Twilight considered that maybe – maybe – Nightmare Moon was sane and Ponyville was all an act. Maybe even eternal night was just leverage for something else.

As if reading Twilight’s mind – and Twilight wondered if she could – the grin on Nightmare Moon’s face grew the longer Twilight thought.

Twilight gulped. “What do you want?”

Nightmare Moon leaned back on her throne, by all accounts satisfied with Twilight’s words.

“Nothing.”

“I… What?”

“Nothing,” Nightmare Moon repeated herself. “You are a charity case.”

“That doesn’t make any – I – but I tried to – and you – you’re lying!”

“Perhaps.” Nightmare Moon paused, frowning as her thoughts turned inward for a moment. Her brow furrowed as if struggling with something. Then into that brief silence, she said, “But then lies are simply data points you chose to ignore, as you say these days.”

That was hardly how that construction was meant to be used, but Twilight checked herself before correcting Nightmare Moon. Besides for a mare a thousand years behind the vernacular–

Twilight’s eyes widened.

Nightmare Moon grinned. She raised an eyebrow as if asking, “Yes? Do share with the rest of the class.”

Even as the evidence rolled in, Twilight refused to accept it. And yet it all made sense.

Nightmare Moon spoke Modern Ponish with a perfect Canterlot accent. She even knew idioms, if not perfectly.

This throne room was all new but obviously used.

The spells Nightmare Moon used – from what little Twilight had witnessed – had neither the style nor structure of a mage a thousand years behind the times.

“How – how long have you been free?”

“A swing and a miss, dear Twilight.”

That was impossible. All of the evidence pointed to Nightmare Moon having had enough time to update herself to modern standards. She was just lying again.

‘Lies are just data points you chose to ignore.’ The words echoed in Twilight’s head. There was some wisdom there; she could begrudgingly admit it. What then did Nightmare Moon gain? Or perhaps what was she trying to hide? Why did it matter when she returned?

“If you must know,” Nightmare Moon said, interrupting Twilight’s thoughts, “I escaped my confinement during the winter solstice when my power was at its greatest.”

Two seasons? Two seasons was nowhere near enough time to learn everything Nightmare Moon would have needed to – Twilight felt nauseous even thinking the words – defeat Princess Celestia. The princess had earned the epithet Sol Invictus, the Unconquered Sun, for good reason. Maybe it would be enough time to learn the language. Old Ponish was the root language for its modern counterpart, after all.

No. No, Nightmare Moon was likely telling the truth.

“Which winter solstice?” Twilight wore a triumphant smirk on her face.

One which was returned in full measure. “You’re learning. Good.”

For a moment, Twilight made to protest but held her peace. Celestia forbid that Twilight would or could not learn. What a horrible world that would be.

“Please indulge me, Twilight. Do you know what the sixth Element of Harmony is?”

Caught off guard by the change in topic, Twilight replied automatically without thinking. “No.”

“Oh? Well, I suppose my sister did think you would have more time…”

Twilight had the horrible feeling that Nightmare Moon knew her weakness. Knowledge was much alike to a carrot on a stick. Dangle it in front of her and she would chase it to the edge of the world. Worse, even when she recognized it for the trap that it was, she would walk into it knowingly every time. It was a hard-learned lesson from magic kindergarten.

“Time for what?”

“To attune with the element she attempted to groom you for, of course.”

With the expectant look Nightmare Moon gave her, Twilight hazarded a guess. “Magic?”

“That hardly fits the theme.” Suspended in the cyan glow of Nightmare Moon’s magic, the Elements flew from their corner to float by between her and Twilight. She named them each in turn. “Honesty. Kindness. Loyalty. Generosity. Laughter, or more properly Good Humor, but that doesn’t roll off the tongue. Translation issues, you see. No, Magic does not fit the pattern.”

Twilight had to admit Nightmare Moon had a point. She ran over all the virtues she possessed, even in modicum, in search of the answer. ‘Organized’ was hardly better than her first guess. ‘Punctual’ was an even poorer fit. ‘Diligent’ might work, but it lacked the ring of truth she expected. It needed to be more about personal relationships.

“Trustworthy?” At the very least, Twilight liked to think that her word was as good as truth or prophecy. Unless she overreached – and admittedly that had happened once or twice – she always did what she said she would.

Nightmare Moon appeared thoughtful for a moment, but she shook the expression away soon after.

“A very good guess, but no. The sixth element is as symbolic as it is functional. It takes a careful hoof to wield, as it channels and directs the other elements which empower it.”

By this point, Twilight was scrapping the bottom of the barrel for virtues she possessed – at least for non-scholastic virtues. ‘Studious’ hardly fit the pattern, after all.

Eventually, Twilight gave up. “I don’t know.”

“Friendship.”

Twilight would have burst out laughing in any other company. She had friends, of course, but nopony could accuse her of being a paragon of friendship. Moon Dancer was the closest friend she had, but even that relationship was little more than study buddies at its heart.

“I did say attempted,” Nightmare Moon commented dryly. “You know how she is.” The pair shared a moment of camaraderie as they exchanged mutually sympathetic looks. Princess Celestia, despite all her virtues, could be frustratingly opaque at times. Nopony would know that better than them. “If you have any doubts, I’m sure we can unearth some old documents somewhere if we look hard enough.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Twilight said, actually somewhat amused even in her current situation. Nightmare Moon’s answer fit well enough, and it hardly mattered at the moment. Besides, what reason could Nightmare Moon possibly have to lie about it right now and to allow Twilight to call her bluff?

“Thank you.”

For once, Nightmare Moon’s smile was just that: a smile. There was nothing smug or predatory about it. Not that the arrogance and self-assurance had left her countenance.

The five Elements of Harmony fell to the floor in a circle. The moment they did, a bright light flared from their center.

The light faded. Blinking away the sting from her eyes, Twilight looked back at the Elements. A sixth stone sphere sat in the midst of the other five, one about twice the volume of the others. Emblazoned upon it was the six-pointed star any student of magic would recognize.

“Destiny likes to pull at our strings in more ways than just our cutie marks.”

For a moment, Twilight glanced back at her own with a frown. It was a six-pointed star with five smaller stars encircling it, much like how there were five elements surrounding the larger sixth.

“You stand at a crossroads, Twilight Sparkle. This will be the biggest decision of your life.”

Nightmare Moon arose from her throne. Her hoofsteps echoed steadily as she approached, stopping just in front of the elements on her side of the room.

“Will you pursue this?” Nightmare Moon gestured at what must be the Element of Friendship with a hoof. She held it suspended just over the sphere as if inviting Twilight to ask her to roll the Element across the far too small distance between them. “Do you wish to become a social butterfly? Do you wish to be a pony who drops her books for a party or a pony who delays her latest project in favor of tea and company?”

Twilight clamped down on her immediate response. It was what Princess Celestia had wanted for her. She could even admit it might, perhaps, possibly be the case that she should get out more on holidays. And if her suspicions about her cutie mark were on point, it was her fate, what she was always meant to do.

But it would taste a lie to say it was what Twilight wanted.

“That…doesn’t sound like me.”

“No, it does not.”

Twilight felt dirty inside at Nightmare Moon agreeing with her, much less at rejecting her destiny and indirectly disobeying Princess Celestia’s wishes.

“Tell me, in my absence, what would you wish to be?”

Far too many times Twilight had asked herself that question. There were simply too many things that held her interest and too many books to read. And always there was that foolish dream she had of being a princess, of being an alicorn just like Princess Celestia and Cadance.

“A researcher,” Twilight mumbled. It was the best viable choice, in her opinion.

“Of magic?”

Twilight nodded.

“I believe that is a poor decision.”

A poor decision? “And what would you have me do?” Twilight demanded.

“Nothing in particular, my little charity case.”

Nightmare Moon was lying again. She was still after something. Twilight knew it.

“I merely wish to point out the effort hardly seems worth your while. A thousand years behind the times, and I learned enough in two seasons–” Nightmare Moon actually rolled her eyes at Twilight’s disbelieving glare. “–to best my sister. Even should I have had a decade to practice, does that not sound strange? A thousand years of progress forgone? I should be a barbarian.”

“You are.”

“Perhaps culturally,” Nightmare Moon allowed. “Have you ever heard of the Crystal Empire? King Sombra?”

History was not Twilight’s strongest subject, but she still shook her head. Surely Nightmare Moon would inform her. “So what?”

“My sister and I together removed them from the map. And yet a train still runs through their lands in the Frozen North a thousand years later.”

“That line goes to Rainbow Falls!” Twilight protested. Not that she understood the point Nightmare Moon was trying to make.

“After detouring hundreds of leagues through a snow-covered wasteland?”

Twilight had nothing to counter that.

“The train is an ancient device, Twilight. Why is it still in use?”

It was a tautology, but Twilight said, “Because it’s useful. Not everypony can fly.”

“True enough. Yet in a thousand years, surely somepony would have invented something more useful.”

Surely that was an unfair argument. Doors were older than civilization, and nopony would suggest that doors were antiquated.

“Who was the last great historical figure in magic?”

Twilight automatically answered, “Star Swirl the Bearded.”

“He was born before me.”

“That doesn’t mean–” Twilight started to protest.

“Do you know of the Alicorn Amulet?”

“In passing, but–”

“It is as dangerous today as it was when King Sombra created it ages ago.”

Twilight stomped her hoof. “Spears are no less pointy either!”

“Ha! Spears! They were relics when I was a filly, utterly harmless to a unicorn and, in the hooves of an earth pony, worthless against a pegasus. Spears were the weapons of the ancients when magic was barely more than supernatural powers and bizarre rituals.

“And still I see earth ponies harvesting and farming with their own hooves. Unicorns have the magic to make their lives easier with enchantments, if only they were to apply it properly.”

“But…”

Nightmare Moon was not finished. “And now, a thousand years later when ponies have leisure time in their prosperity and their foals run around playing all day, how much education does a typical pony receive?”

“Primary and” – Twilight’s breath hitched – “training in their special talent.” She knew now where Nightmare Moon intended to take this argument.

“And you wonder why I say that research is not worth your time? It is an esoteric field, one not fit for civilized society.”

“That’s not true!” Twilight screamed.

“It is!” Nightmare Moon firmly stated. She paused for a moment, then added, “Unless something changes.”

For a moment, Twilight almost let herself do the unthinkable: agree wholeheartedly with Nightmare Moon.

“Equestria is at peace,” Nightmare Moon continued. “Centuries of peace is impressive. Equestria is fat and rich. It is open and accepting in ways it never was a thousand years ago. Although it is still far from perfect, what more could anypony ask for?”

Nightmare Moon’s magic pulled Twilight’s gaze up from the floor to stare directly into her eyes and held her there.

“But you are dead intellectually. History is forgotten and fragmented, if not outright edited. Where are the changelings? What happened to the Crystal Princess? Who is Lord Tirek and his sworn brother Prince Scorpan? What of the Pony of Shadows? Grogar? What happened in the Discordian Era? Where is your other diarch, Princess Luna? Who is the Mare in the Moon?

“Electricity and magnetism is new, I admit, but what do you use it for? The occasional light when no unicorns are around to maintain magical ones? The compass is not new, only more studied.

“Your knowledge of medicine and healing is little better. The only truly great invention I have seen is the x-ray, yet that is but one idea in what should be millions.

“And your magic – ha! The fact that Star Swirl’s work is still relevant is a joke. You would spend your entire life amounting to–”

“Stop!” Twilight cried. “Please. Please stop.”

And surprisingly, Nightmare Moon did. Surely it was not the tears – Twilight could never bring herself to believe Nightmare Moon cared – yet she did stop.

Without the righteous thunder of her earlier words, Nightmare Moon said, “You live in a golden dark age, Twilight. You could choose to embody friendship, to perhaps even strike me down, but you will have to live with that decision forever. You would, in essence, embody the status quo: peace, friendship, and harmony.”

Nightmare Moon finally let her magic disperse, and Twilight slumped to the ground without the support.

“Now tell me, Twilight Sparkle” – Nightmare Moon turned to face away as if Twilight would believe that made her vulnerable – “in my absence, what would you wish to be?”

“I – I don’t – I don’t know.” Twilight’s voice was weak, uneven. What could she even do alone? What if Princess Celestia – and she could barely believe she was thinking it – would do nothing about this?

“Then I ask you another question. What do you wish to be in my presence?”

This – this was the trap. Twilight hated herself for it, but Nightmare Moon had her. And really, what other option had she possessed to begin with? Nightmare Moon had railroaded this entire conversation to this point.

“I’m not important,” Twilight mumbled, defeated, her head hung low. Whatever Princess Celestia saw in her, there had to be a thousand other ponies with equal talent. More, even. The princess had, after all, entrusted the future to her, and she’d failed miserably. Surely there was even somepony else to bear the Element of Friendship.

Nightmare Moon turned back around in Twilight’s peripheral vision. No doubt she was smiling from ear to ear.

“Twilight Sparkle wields some clout, being both famous and almost fanatically devoted to my sister. Yet she is nothing I cannot live without.”

Without warning, Twilight’s left foreleg lit up in the cyan glow of Nightmare Moon’s magic. She stared at it for an instant before panicking. She flailed the leg around to no effect as she slowly lost all feeling in it. Within seconds, it refused to even respond to commands.

“What are you doing?” Twilight screamed, eyes wide.

“Providing extraordinary evidence for an extraordinary claim,” was Nightmare Moon’s calm reply.

Without another word, Nightmare Moon cast one last spell, one Twilight recognized. She tried to counter the ordinary kitchen-grade cutting spell, but like every other time she’d tried, Nightmare Moon countered her magic before it even took shape.

And then the deed was done. Twilight stared at her severed leg on the floor, unable to bear looking at the stump left behind where Nightmare Moon had detached it.

And yet the numbness was fading. There would be no denying reality. Even in her shock, Twilight braced herself for the coming agony.

Any moment now.

Any moment.

Perplexed and somewhat morbidly curious, Twilight raised her view from the floor to where her leg was supposed to be gone – supposed to be, but was not.

“W-w-what’s going on?” Twilight watched transfixed with equal parts horror and now scientific curiosity as her stump knit itself back together. In what was, Twilight swore, at most ten seconds, her leg was back and perfectly functional.

Or she had a new one, at least. There was still a dismembered limb on the floor right in front of her. And while that was fascinating, there were other things on Twilight’s mind right now.

“I don’t understand! What is this? What did you do? What happened? How did this happen?”

Nightmare Moon cast a silencing spell on Twilight for the second time that night and waited until she petered out.

“What did you do?” Twilight asked, if not calmly, then at least evenly enough that Nightmare Moon deigned to answer.

“I cut off your leg.”

“What else?” Twilight hissed.

Nightmare Moon clearly took some sadistic glee in the situation. She smiled as she said, “You tell me. What cannot be physically killed, regenerates, and is magically powerful?”

Glaring back at the patronizing mare, Twilight replied, “Alicorns.”

Nightmare Moon arched an eyebrow.

It took a second before Twilight tripped over her own thoughts, her answer and its implications catching up to her.

“An alicorn filly in your case,” Nightmare Moon said. “You’re such a cute, adorable little thing.”

At first, Twilight had no idea how to respond to that. But then Nightmare Moon tried to scratch her beneath her muzzle, cooing, “Coochy coo,” as if Twilight were a newborn foal. She batted the hoof away with her new leg and glared.

And yet Twilight’s heart was not in it. Her mind was still trying to process everything and struggling to cope. Being told she was an alicorn – filly or otherwise – was the last straw before it got up and left her to her own devices.

“So, Princess Twilight, what do you wish to be?”

It was too much to make a decision – to make any decision right now. Twilight needed time to think and regroup.

“If you do not want to be the Princess of Friendship, then what will you be? If you do not like this world, what will you do to change it? Who will you be to change it?”

“I…”

“Come now, Twilight,” Nightmare Moon said again. Twilight was really starting to hate that. “I should think the choice is obvious for you. You can be whoever you wish. You can go by any name or title. But an alicorn’s essential nature is unchanging. Deep down in your heart, what are you? You are the Alicorn of…”

And the truth was Twilight did know exactly what word she wanted to finish that sentence with. It would be so easy. It would be so wonderful. All she had to do was fly out on her own away from the safety of Princess Celestia’s wings. With enough luck and determination, she could even save Princess Celestia from her banishment.

And then what? the little voice of doubt asked. What will she do when she sees what you’ve done with her Equestria?

But Princess Celestia was not like that. No matter what Nightmare Moon said, Twilight knew Princess Celestia would understand and be supportive, maybe even thrilled. None of this could be her fault. No one pony could possibly wield that much influence and power. And Equestria was in a golden age, even if it was also in a dark age. Ponies were happier and better off than ever.

The problem was Nightmare Moon. She was going to freeze the world.

Except she alluded to ‘discussing’ eternal night. And she was smart. That much was clear. Twilight would never ever underestimate Nightmare Moon’s intelligence ever again, not after tonight. She would never destroy the nation she wanted to rule. That was a contradiction in terms.

No, Equestria would endure with or without Nightmare Moon at the mantle. So long it was there, Princess Celestia would have something to come back to. The short, easy victory through the Elements of Harmony was no longer an option. Twilight knew she would have to be in this for the long haul now. Whatever plan she came up with for victory, she had to be one-hundred percent absolutely sure it would work.

Twilight doubted she would ever get a third chance.

“Magic,” Twilight finally replied, whispering the word at first. “I’m the Alicorn of Magic.”

Twilight’s head rose from staring at the floor in thought, and what her eyes found was far from what she expected.

In the place of Nightmare Moon stood a dark blue mare perhaps two-thirds as tall. Her mane still flowed in an æthereal wind, but the stars in it were muted now, not blazing lights. The draconic pupils were gone, and her teeth were flat instead of razors. She looked every bit a proper, regal alicorn.

Twilight noticed this new mare’s cutie mark was the same as Nightmare Moon’s.

“Very well then, Princess Twilight, Alicorn of Magic. My name is Princess Luna, Alicorn of the Night, Diarch of Equestria, Shepherdess of Dreams. As my sister has seen fit to erase me from history, our first task is to defeat Nightmare Moon and end this eternal night.”

And there was the confirmation of what Twilight had expected. Everything that had happened in Ponyville had been an act. The madness had been feigned. The threats, while real enough, were meant to be defeated. Eternal night was a sham. This Princess Luna was the villain and the ‘hero’.

Princess Luna – no, Luna was not her princess – held out a hoof.

“Rise, Twilight, and let us remake this world in our own image.”

Twilight gulped. There was no going back if she took that hoof. She could refuse. Luna would likely keep her alive for ‘reeducating’, but eventually Twilight would be left alone long enough to escape. She was immortal, after all.

But that would hardly help anypony. Even being a nominal ally would let Twilight influence Luna’s rule. As a prisoner or a fugitive, she would be worthless, unable to do anything whatsoever. Not to mention that comment about her ‘good behavior’ determining Cadance’s fate. How seriously was she meant to take a threat Luna had made as Nightmare Moon?

And deep down, as much as she hated herself for it, Twilight agreed with Luna. Science had stagnated under Princess Celestia’s rule for a thousand years. Equestria needed to change. If it had to endure a nightmare for some time to bring that about…well, there were worse ways it could happen.

Princess Twilight hoped Princess Celestia would understand.

Author's Note

Surprise! I’ve risen from the grave even more powerful than before!

If you’ve read this prologue before as an omake in The Moon’s Apprentice, then be aware that there are significant minor changes to facilitate a full-length story (and to take advantage of four more years of writing experience). It's also more AU now than when presented there.

Also, dates: five days to a week, three weeks to a moon, seven moons to a season, and four seasons to a year.

Behold! A shameless promotion for my Patreon page.

Chapter One - Night Breaks

Canterlot Castle
Canterlot, Equestria
First Summer Moon 6, 1001 SE

Shining Armor cut the flow to his magic and let Princess Celestia’s bed fall back to the floor. If she had any documents that could at least help explain the current crisis, they were not in her room. Oh, he’d found plenty of classified material, some of which even his security clearance probably didn’t cover, but nothing like what he’d been hoping for.

Frustrated and lacking any better option, Shining returned to his office where he waited for the remainder of the Royal Guard to deliver their reports. Empty-hoofed officers came and went through his door over the next several hours. They’d left no stone unturned in the castle only to come up with nothing. The closest thing to a clue the entire search effort had uncovered consisted of nothing more than an old mare’s tale he himself had found conspicuously on display in Twilight’s room.

Shining brought a hoof up to massage his mounting headache away. Speaking of Twilight, nopony had heard from his sister since Nightmare Moon’s first appearance in Ponyville. He’d hoped she could shed some light on the situation as she obviously knew more about it than he did. But no. Instead, she’d disappeared without a trace just like Princess Celestia. No sign of a struggle. No note. Nothing. He would be worried about her safety if she didn’t vanish on him like this all the time.

A knock came at the door. Shining bade his guest to enter and made himself a bit more presentable. His second-in-command, Lieutenant Rivet, stepped into the room wearing her winter gear and delivered a crisp salute. It seemed even the Royal Guard’s pegasi, naturally resistant to the rapidly dropping temperatures of eternal night, had switched over now.

“Report.”

“We searched your family’s home as ordered. Unfortunately, we came up empty.”

Shining clicked his tongue. This wouldn’t have been the first time his sister left sensitive documents lying around the house, but luck was not with them today.

“Your parents also said you should visit more,” Rivet added with a hint of morbid amusement. “You could have gone yourself.”

They both knew he couldn’t, not with the clock ticking on the fate of the entire world. There wasn’t yet time for family.

“We should get to our meeting.” Shining rose from his seat and led the way out.

Deeper within the castle, far away from the Royal Guard’s barracks and offices, the emergency response team formed to combat the threat eternal night posed gathered. Shining took his seat at the central table of the rarely utilized war room with Rivet standing just behind him.

At Shining’s left sat Incog, the director of the Equestrian Intelligence Service. He immediately recognised the pony at her side as Hail Singer, the head of the Anti-Monster Division under her command, by the distinctive scars running across his face. Rumor had it that he’d gotten them fighting a hydra single-hoofed in his early years with the EIS.

To Shining’s right sat General Strategos, the ancient head of Equestria’s National Guard, with his staff gathered around him. He was one of the few ponies alive who had actual experience fighting something which might generously be termed a war.

Lastly, Prince Blueblood sat across from Shining. In the unexplained absence of Princess Celestia and without a declared regent, it fell to him to lead Equestria. He wasn’t the pony Shining would have picked, but he had the self-awareness necessary to leave the crisis to the professionals and play a mere ceremonial role. This was no time for political plays.

As such, with everypony gathered, Prince Blueblood called the meeting to order. The dull buzz of conversation quieted, and he spoke. “The first item on our agenda is a status update on the search for Princess Celestia and Twilight Sparkle. Incog?”

The mare’s horn lit, and she levitated a copy of a transcript to the four major players at the table. As she did so, she said, “Still no news on Princess Celestia, but we have a better picture of what happened to her student. Five mares emerged from the Everfree Forest this morning who claim they went with her on a search for the Elements of Harmony.”

Shining’s ears perked up. He recognized that name from the copy of Predictions and Prophecies Twilight had left out in her tower.

“The Elements of Harmony,” Incog continued, “according to these mares, are a set of six magical artifacts capable of defeating Nightmare Moon. They claim to have successfully recovered five of the artifacts and stepped aside to allow Twilight Sparkle to retrieve the sixth. They went to check up on her sometime later and discovered that both she and the Elements had disappeared.”

Please just be being yourself, Twily. It wouldn’t surprise him if she’d left those mares without anymore word than she’d given him when leaving Canterlot, but Shining had a bad feeling and his own suspicions. There were two new actors at work which they knew almost nothing about.

Incog yielded the floor to Hail Singer to continue the report. “I led a team into the Everfree to search for the mare. We found her last known location and investigated. There were lingering traces of a teleport, but we couldn’t determine the destination or who cast it. Our best guess is it took her out of the forest.”

Shining’s brow furrowed. “How far in was she?” The answer left him focusing on his own breathing to retain his calm. While Twilight grew more powerful day by day, “The last I heard, that’s well outside her maximum range.”

“Perhaps Princess Celestia came to assist her?” Prince Blueblood suggested.

It was possible, and he hoped that was the case, but Shining personally dismissed the idea. What reason would Princess Celestia have had to leave the other mares Twilight had traveled with stranded in the middle of the Everfree? There were valid explanations, but they were unlikely, especially when there were other suspects.

General Strategos beat Shining to the punch. “What more do we know of the two alicorns locked in combat?”

“Very little,” Incog admitted. “The black one continues to introduce herself as Nightmare Moon. The blue one refers to her as such as well on the rare occasion when they exchange words within earshot.” She passed out another transcript that felt more akin to a leaflet. “To summarize, Nightmare Moon wishes to bring about eternal night. The blue one is fighting to bring it to an end, although we don’t know what her motivations are.”

“Do they really matter?” Prince Blueblood asked. Unvoiced was that, if the cold didn’t kill them first, they would all slowly starve as their food dwindled if she didn’t win. Most had given up on waiting for Princess Celestia by now.

Nopony answered the question.

“How is the collateral damage?”

To Prince Blueblood's question, General Strategos replied, “Surprisingly low but accelerating. If I were to hazard a guess, the blue alicorn realizes she’s running out of time and is starting to focus on victory over protection. I’ve deployed the National Guard to do what it can to assist those affected.”

Prince Blueblood closed his eyes and visibly took a deep breath. “And the casualties?”

“We’re nearing three thousand injured, but we’ve only been unable to save fifteen lives. Those recently.”

Unbidden, the room descended into a moment of silence.

“We need to make contact and coordinate with the blue one,” General Strategos stated firmly.

The entire table agreed. Shining set aside his worry for his sister and concern over what either of the two new alicorns might have done with her to add his own voice to the chorus. He had no choice, no matter his misgivings, and he could only hope Twilight made it through this in one piece.

The real question now was how they intended to get the blue alicorn’s attention without distracting her. Every fraction of a second counted in battle. Everypony present knew that. Unfortunately, they also couldn’t simply wait until the fight finished. The blue alicorn never lingered. If she won, if her opponent fled, she dogged Nightmare Moon’s every step. If she lost, she fled to lick her wounds in preparation for the next round.

It was quite the quandary. If Cadance were here, perhaps then they would have somepony in the same weight class who could join the fray and open a line of communication. Unfortunately, she’d left Canterlot without even telling Shining where she intended to go. But at least she’d said goodbye, unlike–

The castle shook.

With the vibrations came the rumbling clatter of everything from fixtures to quills bouncing and striking each other as they fell.

And then came the thunderous crack of stone splitting.

Nopony needed to give the command. Everypony leapt to their hooves rushed toward the door. The battle had come to Canterlot.

Everfree Forest, Equestria
First Summer Moon 6, 1001 SE

Sweetie Drops felt it before she heard it. The ground shook, and then came the distant crackling roar of a meteor impact.

Paying it no mind, Sweetie Drops took advantage of the distraction. The timberwolf in front of her, confused over the trembling ground, left itself wide open. She rushed in and delivered a solid kick that split the beast into its component twigs and branches. Following up swiftly, she primed a fire stone from her belt and tossed it onto the remains before the timberwolf could reform.

The snap and crackling of the magical fire broke the rest of the timberwolf pack’s resolve. They fled back deeper into the Everfree away from Sweetie Drops and, consequentially, the little farming village she’d been assigned to protect. She didn’t understand why anypony thought it would be a good idea to settle on the border of the most dangerous place in Equestria. Monster attacks were so frequent here that the residents had become inured to their occurrence. Still, she would do her duty and defend Ponyville.

With one potential disaster averted, Sweetie Drops resumed her patrol of the Everfree Forest. The longer the night lasted, the bolder the monsters within grew. The bolder the monsters grew, the further from the depths they came. The further they came, the more dangerous they grew. She wouldn’t dream of fighting the nastier creatures of the forest alone, but it looked more and more like she might have to. The Anti-Monster Division of the EIS was stretched thin already and growing ever thinner every day. She really needed to speak with Hail Singer about drumming up some new recruits as soon as possible.

At least the bugbear was already locked up in Tartarus. She’d seen to that personally.

As she stalked through the trees, Sweetie Drops allowed herself a moment to investigate what had caused the tremors earlier. She first found Canterlot off in the distance high up in the mountains clinging to the cliffside. From there, she shifted her gaze toward the light show not far enough away and swore under her breath.

Bursts of cyan and cobalt blue flew through the air from sources too small to make out as anything but pinpricks of light. When the two glows slammed together in a spectacular melee of unrelenting, rapid-fire spell casting, they shined brighter than the sun. The devastation around them mounted as the missed spells took their toll on the surrounding landscape. Soon a third color joined the fray, adding larger scale magical constructs to the battle in a brilliant raspberry from long range.

“Yeah, not getting involved with that,” Sweetie Drops muttered before resuming her patrol.

The world trembled once more.

Canterlot Castle
Canterlot, Equestria
First Summer Moon 6, 1001 SE

Deep in the foundations of the capital, accessible only from the castle and far from the reach of any conventional enemy, Shining saw to the activation of Canterlot’s first line of defense: the Aegis, a massive shield enveloping the entire capital. It was built into the very city itself, a masterpiece of enchantment from the days of yore and a permanent impression of magic upon the world. He’d heard some ponies, including his sister, refer to it as a work of art.

But art or otherwise, enormously complicated, notoriously power-hungry, the number of living ponies who could actually use it numbered in the single digits. Shining counted himself honored to be among them. As he approached the control center, he nodded to the ponies standing guard. A quick exchange of passwords granted him access.

Inside the chamber, Shining trotted forward to the pedestal standing alone in stark contrast to the otherwise bare features. Upon it resided an innocent pair of amulets that served as the user interface for the greater enchantment. One allowed full control over the Aegis. The other merely allowed somepony to power it remotely.

Shining plucked the control amulet from its place. “Here’s hoping those alicorns don’t knock out the foundations.” There would be nothing anypony could do if that happened but watch the city collapse as gravity took hold. Evacuation would take too long, and the weather was too cold to send ponies away preemptively without a place to send them to.

Bracing himself, Shining lowered the amulet over his head and let it come to a rest against his chest. He first adjusted the settings for the situation – nothing in, nothing out, no exceptions – and then brought the shield up. The magical load immediately settled onto him like an iron blanket determined to smother him beneath its weight, but he endured.

After swapping the control amulet out for the one which would let him serve as a remote battery but not a security risk, Shining departed to return to his duties. He’d left control of the guard entirely to his subordinates for long enough.

The city was in chaos. From the castle ramparts alone, Shining could spot three buildings which had collapsed from the periodic quakes. A few fires had even broken out. Crowds milled about in shock and confusion, some quiet, others screaming. The biting cold, it seemed, was preferable to staying indoors when the roof could fall down upon one’s head.

Outside the Aegis, the battle raged on. Shining allowed himself a few moments to observe it with uncomfortable closeness. The alicorns were too far away and too fast to see clearly, but he could get an all too clear read on their magic and spellcasting.

Nightmare Moon, the literal bogeymare, was everything he’d expected from a horror story brought to life. Her mere proximity suffocated the magically sensitive, even powerhouses like himself. She flung power around without art or grace, only a determination to blast apart everything in her way. Nopony but an alicorn could sustain such a crude style.

The other alicorn, her magic no less heavy upon the air but lacking the stifling nature, cast methodically and precisely but with the haste combat required. She made a clear effort to keep Canterlot out of the line of fire, but as a fellow warrior, Shining could tell she was fighting to win, not protect.

“Captain!”

Shining tore his eyes away from the battle to find Rivet descending from above. When she landed in front of him, he asked for a progress report.

“As you can see” – Rivet gestured out to the city with a wing – “Canterlot is in a panic. The Royal Guard has taken up our positions, but keeping order is next to impossible.”

“And the National Guard?” Shining asked. There weren’t many here, but every extra hoof helped.

“They’re undertaking rescue operations and assisting the city’s firefighters. The hospitals are getting crowded, but ponies nearby are opening their homes and businesses for more space.”

Shining nodded in approval. Canterlot wasn’t exactly the place to live for neighborly generosity, but at least the residents were showing some sense.

An echoing cry of, “Eyes closed!” carried over the city in dozens of voices.

“Wha–”

Before Shining could finish, Rivet threw a wing over his face. Through her feathers came a searingly bright light, and he immediately decided to take the advice offered and added a hoof for good measure.

“Sorry, Captain.”

“No need.” Shining dismissed the assistance with a gentle downward push on Rivet’s wing. “I don’t fancy being blind. What in Celestia’s name are those alicorns doing?” All he could tell was that it involved a lot of magic.

“Melee spellslinging, Captain. They get into it every so often.”

“Ah.” Spells colliding with spells tended to produce rather volatile effects. With their level of power, the rapidity of the spells, and the close range, Shining had to wonder if they were fighting entirely blind. If Twilight were here, maybe she would know a spell for high-light vision. He, unfortunately, only knew the opposite version.

Soon enough, the flare died down as the alicorns separated and returned to more tactical spellcasting at range.

Shining mumbled, “Well that happened,” to himself as he dreaded the answer to his next question. “How many of us got caught in the first flare?”

“About a quarter.”

A curse slipped past Shining’s lips. It was bad for morale, but he had no better response. Besides, nopony else but Rivet was close enough to overhear anyway.

A sudden surge of familiar magic caught Shining’s attention. His head spun back toward its source outside the city’s perimeter. A new pony had joined the fray. A pony who had no preparation or training. A pony who had more power than good sense. A pony near and dear to his heart.

“No, no, no. Twily what are you thinking?” She was going to get herself killed.

Heedless to her brother’s unheard distress, Twilight’s magic spread out into a massive spell matrix she had no business knowing. She hovered as a tiny spec in the air, though Shining knew not how, and fired a barrage of shield-piercing spells at Nightmare Moon. None of them hit, but the distraction did give the blue alicorn the opportunity to teleport into Nightmare Moon’s face and deliver a punch that turned her into a meteor.

Shining might have been filling in a few blanks with his imagination. Those three were far away. Still, he cheered with the rest of the populace even as the ground shook with the force of the impact.

It came too early. Before he could even process what had happened, a beam of cyan magic slammed Twilight into the Aegis. Shining felt the drain on his own magic spike. Then the shield shattered behind her and sent her flying into Canterlot on a collision course with the ground.

“No!” The word came as a whisper. Shining stood in a daze while the tiny section of the Aegis Nightmare Moon’s assault had pierced reformed. When the draw on his magic leveled out, he woke from his stupor. “Twilight!”

Rivet commanded him to go, and Shining took off with barely a thought to leave her in charge. He leapt over the rampart’s parapet. Midair, he cast a shield to land on. He gained speed as he galloped across it and leapt again. This time he made it to a roof. He repeated this process at full speed in a straight line to where his sister had landed.

The crash site could be termed as nothing but. Twilight had gone through a building, a tree, and then had finally hit the ground with enough remaining force to crack the pavement from one end of the street to the other. Shining blocked all thoughts of what the scene meant as he slid down a shield to the ground.

“Twilight!” Shining pushed his way through the gathered crowd with his magic, only slowing down as he made it to his sister’s side. He got just enough of an eyeful to know she was technically in one piece, but his mind refused to contemplate the image further.

Kneeling at his sister’s side, Shining spoke in a desperate whisper. “Twilight, can you hear me?”

No response.

“Twily, please, talk to me.”

A stallion from the crowd put a hoof on Shining’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

“Twilight, I – I’m going to find help. Just wait here, okay?”

A mumble came over the subdued tumult of the crowd. Hope ignited, Shining leaned closer and put an ear to Twilight’s mouth and asked her to repeat herself.

“Numb…ing. Please.”

Shining wasn’t a medic, but he knew enough first aid to answer that request. He cast the spell, letting it wash over Twilight’s whole body, and heard her relieved sigh as it took full effect.

“Thanks.”

That voice was so tragically weak. Shining had heard a pony speak like that once before. “Don’t you dare die on me,” he commanded.

“Not. Gonna. Die.” Twilight made a noise that might have passed for laughter. “Snap me. Back. Into shape.” After a few seconds, she added, “Please. Faster.”

What? What’s faster? Shining, of course, did nothing in his confusion.

Twilight clicked her tongue. “Nevermind. I got it.” Her horn lit up, and only Celestia could say how she managed to cast magic in her state. Before Shining or anypony else could stop her, the raspberry glow of her own magic suffused her body.

Then the snapping started.

Shining would never forget the sound of bones being forced back into alignment or the smell that accompanied the process. Too horrified, he didn’t stop her. Nopony did.

“Oh, that’s much better,” Twilight said with far more ease. Her breathing rapidly evened out, and she cast another spell to clean up her mess. “Hey, Shining. It’s good to see you.”

“I… What? Twilight, how are you…”

The mare in question adopted a rather sheepish look. “Alive?”

Shining was going to say moving, but that worked too.

“This, uh, isn’t really how I wanted you to find out. But, well, I’m an alicorn. Surprise?”

Shining fell the rest of the way from his knees onto his barrel. How was he meant to respond to that? He glanced down and stated the obvious. “You have wings!”

“I do!” There was a surprising amount of glee in that voice for a pony who usually had to be dragged out of the library. “Well, sort of. I copied Luna’s genetic template with an old spell from the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. My own will grow in in a couple of years. But” – she thrust a hoof up excitedly – “I have enough pegasus magic in me already to fly, so better to have them than to be grounded in an alicorn battle.” She laughed nervously as she got back onto her hooves, by all appearances completely unharmed despite her harrowing experience. “Anyway, I, uh, have to go. Battles to fight, and all that. You know how it is.”

Without a word more, Twilight took off into the air and hastened away. Shining idly noted the poor form of an inexperienced flier as the rest of his mind struggled to catch up with the emotional roller coaster he’d just been put through. When she neared the Aegis, her horn lit as she summoned up her magic, mostly likely attempting to teleport through the shield – which, of course, didn’t work.

Twilight flew back to Shining with an extremely awkward look about her and refused to meet his eyes. “Uh… How do I…”

Not having the control amulet with him, Shining had no way to let Twilight out with any promptness in a conventional manner. “You’ll have to blast your way through,” he offered rather lamely. The Aegis was designed to fail in bits and pieces and then reform. It made it slightly weaker but infinitely more efficient. “Move quickly once you have a hole.”

“Right. Thanks.”

Shining grasped Twilight’s hoof in his magic as she took off again. It only took a gentle tug to bring her back to the ground. Once she was on her hooves, he pulled her into a needy hug. “I don’t know what you’re not telling me, Twily, but stay safe.”

After a few seconds of fidgeting, Twilight finally gave in and returned the hug in full. “I’ll try,” she offered. “Nightmare Moon doesn’t seem to be pulling any punches. I can at least promise not to die.”

“That’s the only reason I’m letting you go.”

Unfortunately, this moment between siblings was ruined. Shining felt a sharp drain on his magic once more as the blue alicorn ripped a hole in the Aegis. Her voice, carried by magic, said, “Twilight, stop flirting with ponies in the splash zone.”

The warmth and affection as well as the earlier awkwardness was nowhere to be found in Twilight’s voice as she separated from Shining. Instead, with uncharacteristic hostility, she shouted back, “He’s my brother, you jerk!”

A flat, “Gross,” came back. Shining picked up just the hint of laughter with it as Twilight fumed next to him. “Now get those wings in the air. I’ll keep the Aegis open for you until you get past it. I really need your help out here.”

In a huff, Twilight turned to Shining. “I need to get going.”

“You’ll be alright?”

Twilight averted her eyes and evaded. “Hey, I trained all last week for this,” she said as though that was supposed to inspire confidence.

Despite his frown, Shining had neither the authority nor the power to stop Twilight from leaving. He could play the big brother card, but he doubted it would work in this situation. With a sigh, he gave her one last hug and wished her good luck with saving the world.

It was only after Twilight left that Shining realized how fast rumors could spread in Canterlot.

The Sky
Canterlot, Equestria
First Summer Moon 6, 1001 SE

The moment Twilight was away from Canterlot, she cast a simple cantrip to reopen her line of communication with Luna. Neither of them would ever do this in a real battle. Even she, barely trained, knew better than that. It was insecure and unsubtle. But in this piece of theater, it hardly mattered. Nopony would even notice over the magical noise Luna fighting herself generated.

“Did you really have to turn me into a smear on the pavement?”

“Perhaps not,” Luna idly replied, “but it’s best you learn early and learn often that we are not invincible.”

Twilight made no secret of her grumbling. She didn’t need such a visceral lesson over something so trivial.

“If you don’t like it, try dodging next time.”

“Fine. I–”

Twilight’s eyes widened as she recognized Luna’s duplicate, Nightmare Moon, attempting to blast her again in the exact same way. She flapped her wings as fast as she could to gain altitude. The beam flew past below her by a hair’s breadth, and she had even that allowance likely that only because Luna felt generous. Worse, it followed her as she flailed about until Luna forced her alter ego to give up the attack. It was only too bad she didn’t punch herself in the face again. That had been a riot.

“See?” Luna said smugly. “You’re learning.”

Refusing to dignify that with a response, Twilight said, “I’m going to start firing off long range support spells again. Let’s end this soon. Ponies are getting hurt. Again.”

Twilight could feel Luna rolling her eyes. They’d argued over casualties from the moment Twilight had found out about them. Not that it mattered. Luna would do whatever she wanted, and Twilight, unable to stop her partner in crime, had to bite her tongue in public. Exposing Luna as a fraud would only force her to rule with an iron hoof instead of acting as the benevolent princess she claimed to aspire to be.

At least the only ponies who’d died were those Luna would have killed anyway. Those deaths were more surreptitious assassinations than casualties. Equestria had a startling number of enemies gathering in the shadows. Twilight did her best to console herself with that information and tried not to think of what that meant for her future.

“I suppose it’s time,” Luna finally replied. She sent out a few dozen invisible magical markers. “Aim for these. Any piercing spell will do. I’ll dance around you, so don’t worry about making it look convincing.”

Twilight nodded. As she began casting, she repeated the confirmation verbally. “You have a minute until I’m ready to fire.”

“Understood. Going in for melee.”

Twilight idled her support spell for a moment to quickly cobble together another to protect her eyes. Once done, she returned to her work and allowed herself to watch Luna fight Nightmare Moon at close range. Dance truly was the correct verb choice for the sight. The two of them moved together in a fluid exchange of rapid attacks and blocks with an impossibly short time to react for anypony who didn’t know what was coming. It was a show designed to impress, not to be emulated in any real situation.

With some amusement, Twilight wondered if Luna would find more fulfillment on the silver screen than in government.

“Ready.” That was more warning than Luna needed. “Firing.”

Twilight let her first shot fly free. She aimed for the target nearest to Nightmare Moon. Luna forced – if one could use such a word in this situation – her duplicate into its path. Nightmare Moon batted the spell away with a hoof, but Luna took the opportunity to land a hit that lined her up with a trio of targets.

“Firing three.”

All three shots landed. Twilight knew this was but a performance, yet she still took some pleasure in venting her pent up frustration with Luna on Luna. It’d probably be decades before she gained enough skill to even come close to this for real.

Luna continued the combo, knocking Nightmare Moon into another line of fire.

Twilight followed suit and sent another spell off to pierce Nightmare Moon’s defenses and deal actual damage.

This continued until Twilight ran out of shots. Luna finished the beat down with a heavy kick that sent Nightmare Moon careening toward Canterlot. Luna rushed after her, and Twilight followed at a more cautious, sedate pace.

Canterlot, Equestria
First Summer Moon 6, 1 LE (Lunar Era)

Shining watched Luna, if he’d caught the name correctly, slam Nightmare Moon headfirst against the Aegis with enough force to shatter the shield. The latter fell like a rock while Luna dropped down after her in a controlled fall.

Is it over? As he rushed to the scene, Shining certainly hoped so. The last thing Canterlot needed was two alicorns duking it out in its streets. Regardless, he severed the flow of magic from him to the Aegis to drop the shield around the city. It served no purpose at the moment but to confine those two to where they could do the most damage.

Or three, rather, Shining amended when he noticed Twilight gliding in to join Luna. She’d get there before him, but not by much.

When he arrived, Shining found a number of his own guard holding back curious civilians. Nightmare Moon was down and out, lying in an inelegant heap of her own limbs in the center of the street. Luna cast a spell he didn’t recognize on the fiend, most likely one to keep her that way. Twilight shifted about nervously as she stole glances at the crowd around them while, of course, everypony was watching.

And then Luna raised her horn skyward. Under the soft light of the moon, one might have missed the gentle cobalt glow of her magic. No longer was it the blazing light of war that made its weight felt upon the world. No, the fight had finished. The battle, over. This was something else, something peaceful.

In the sky, the moon lowered.

The sun rose.

And ponies everywhere cheered.

Author's Note

Behold! A shameless promotion for my Patreon page.

Chapter Two - A New Normal

Dodge Junction Station
Dodge Junction, Equestria
First Summer Moon 8, 1 LE

The sun shone bright overhead, chasing off the lingering chill of eternal night. The last two days had, in order to return to proper summer weather, stretched inordinately long, but nopony complained, not even those in the dusty, desert town of Dodge Junction at the edge of Equestria. The sun’s warm rays were worthy of celebration on their own, but for one alicorn in disguise, they meant so much more.

Cadance, with the appearance of an ordinary pink pegasus, stepped inside Dodge Junction’s train station. She bought a ticket for Canterlot and picked up yesterday’s issue of The Canterlot Post to pass the time while she waited for her ride home. She’d have much preferred today’s, but she was in the middle of nowhere at a dead end on the rail line. She would take what she could get.

After finding a sunny bench to relax on while she waited for the train, Cadance settled in to catch up on the news. The headline read, ‘Princess Luna Returns!’ which brought a wide smile to her face. Everything had worked out, then. Nightmare Moon was no more. Twilight had finally made friends and taken up responsibility for the Elements of Harmony. Celestia and Luna were reunited. Even better, when she got back to Canterlot, she could finally get the six bits Luna owed her – with over a thousand years of interest, of course.

A chuckle escaped Cadance at the thought. She doubted Luna would find it amusing, at least not at first, but Celestia most certainly would.

‘A thousand years ago,’ the article proper read, ‘Nightmare Moon (yes, she’s real; see bogeymare, page 3) attempted to bring about eternal night. Although she was defeated, it came at a cost. Equestria lost one of its diarchs (see government, page 5) that day. The spell Princess Celestia utilized to banish Nightmare Moon to the moon caught her sister (see Princess Luna, page 2) in the blast.’

A little disingenuous, Auntie, but technically not inaccurate. Cadance could certainly testify to Celestia’s poor aim with banishment spells, so that part of the story certainly held up.

‘Fortunately for Princess Luna, when Nightmare Moon managed to break free, our princess returned with her hot on her tail.’

Cadance frowned. That’s…not right. Perhaps Celestia had decided to really stretch the truth to ensure Luna’s good treatment?

‘In Princess Celestia’s absence, Princess Luna fought Nightmare Moon–’

Cadance’s eyes shifted back to read that again.

‘Princess Luna fought Nightmare Moon–’

That couldn’t possibly be true by any definition of the word, but Cadance pressed on into the article in hope of an explanation.

‘–throughout the recent so-called eternal night. The princess ultimately triumphed over Nightmare Moon with the assistance of the soon-to-be crowned Princess Twilight Sparkle (see Princess Twilight, page 4).’

Stunned, Cadance lost her hold on the newspaper. A strong gust of wind nearly pulled it away from her, but she snapped out of her daze and tightened her grip. She dove back into the story, reading furiously while wondering what bizarre parallel world she’d gotten lost in. At the very least, Twilight was a few years too young to have fully come into her own.

‘Speaking of, when Princess Luna finally resumes her role as Equestria’s Lunar Diarch after her thousand year long absence, Princess Twilight is set to assume the role of Solar Regent. “Why?” I hear you ask. It is this reporter’s solemn duty to inform you that Nightmare Moon banished Princess Celestia to the sun.’

Cadance gasped in horrified realization. She hadn’t thought Nightmare Moon capable of such subterfuge. Worse, Twilight was in terrible danger, and she didn’t even know it.

‘I had the opportunity to speak with Princess Luna, who commented on the matter.

‘“When I returned to Equestria, I expected my sister to be ready for us and immediately incapacitate or banish Nightmare Moon. Obviously, that didn’t happen. Indeed, the tables turned on her with Nightmare Moon banishing her to the sun. I’d hoped she would be able to return after we defeated the pony who cast the spell. Unfortunately, such was not the case, which leaves us with little option but to let the banishment run its course.

‘“Princess Twilight and I will, of course, be attempting to free her early. We, however, expect this to be a fruitless endeavor. My sister did, after all, leave me on the moon for a millennium. I would be very…miffed, I believe is the modern word, to discover that was by choice.”’

Cadance didn’t bother reading the rest of the paper. She didn’t wait for the train. She had no time for either. Instead, she took off into the air and climbed high up into the sky. Once she’d gained the necessary altitude for quick travel, however, she paused to contemplate her course of action.

The Badlands lay to the south, a desolate, inhospitable stretch of land. Beyond it rose a lush, vibrant forest in stark contrast where, unless Cadance was much mistaken, her best potential allies for dethroning Nightmare Moon made their home.

To the north lay Canterlot, Twilight, Shining, and all of Cadance’s friends.

A decision had to be made.

Canterlot Castle
Canterlot, Equestria
First Summer Moon 8, 1 LE

After the chaos of the last few days and the exhausting basic combat training Luna had put Twilight through before then, a nice, mindless, magical task like updating her wards was just what the doctor ordered. A mixed expression settled onto her face as she considered their origin.

Princess Celestia had, so many years ago, insisted upon installing a veritable battery of protective wards upon her new student’s tower in the castle. At the time, Twilight had been grateful to have her own private space at her second home and had thought nothing more of it. As she grew older, she’d pondered their necessity. It wasn’t like she was important, after all.

But then the princess had started indulging her and revealing secrets that validated all of the security. She’d never asked why the princess had been so free with information around her, and that had been her mistake. Now, as she felt her borrowed wings shift at her sides, she understood everything: Princess Celestia had been preparing her for an inevitable role in government.

Just perhaps not the one which she’d fallen into.

“There.” Twilight cut the flow of her magic. “I’ve added you to the wards. You can come and go as you please without having to subvert them.”

Luna turned away from the collection of framed photos she’d been browsing with an approving nod. “We’re able to speak freely here, then?”

“It’s one of the most secure places in the castle. Only family has access.”

“Oh? Why, Twilight, I’m flattered.”

With a roll of her eyes and a slight shake of her head, Twilight muttered, “Every family has a black sheep.” She heaved a sigh. “So what now?”

“Now? Now we begin the most difficult task of all where all our power is meaningless: governing.”

That hardly answered the question, but Twilight let it go. “I can’t believe everypony is buying this farce.”

“Please,” Luna scoffed. “I just defeated the literal embodiment of everypony’s foalhood fears. With my sister’s most faithful student at my side supporting my story, I might add, who happens to be an alicorn herself. Of course they believe it. And why shouldn’t they? They know nothing of me but my heroics, my species, and my command over the heavenly bodies.”

That last part came across with a grumble. Luna had made no secret of her displeasure at being forgotten, warts and all. But Equestria’s core legal framework, the diarchy, remained intact even if its execution had fallen by the wayside. Without any historical baggage, reclaiming her throne had been trivial.

Twilight changed the subject. “You’re really just going to let me loose in the government?”

“Of course.” Luna adopted a sardonic smile and continued, “That’s how a diarchy works, but I understand your confusion. You were my sister’s student, after all. She’s been rather shamelessly ruling as a monarch for the past one thousand years.”

There was little Twilight could say against that, especially when Luna’s first act had been to fill the vacant Solar Throne with a peer instead of a yes-mare. Even so, she’d not expected to be given so much latitude. Really, she shouldn’t. She wanted the opportunity, of course, and she felt she could grow into the role eventually, but she had so little experience. And taking Princess Celestia’s throne felt…sacrilegious.

Luna, naturally, picked up on her reticence. “You have concerns?”

“Yes!” Twilight said. “No,” she quickly revised. “I just…”

Luna summoned a pile of cushions from across the room. As she made herself comfortable, she invited Twilight to do the same. Perhaps it was petty to stand for the mere sake of being contrary, but Twilight was allowed a few moments of irrational pettiness.

To this mild display of defiance, Luna merely shrugged and sank down further into her pillows. “My sister and I were not born into royalty either. We were offered the throne in a time of renewed strife between the pony tribes. It came with the expectation that we would bring balance. In time, we did, and we grew accustomed to our role, but the discomfort of ruling another’s kingdom lasted for years. Decades, honestly. The best advice I can give you is to rule as you see fit. It is…a mistake to attempt otherwise.”

Twilight raised a curious eyebrow. There was a story there for certain, but as Luna didn’t elaborate, she said, “That doesn’t stop me from making my own mistakes.” The thought alone terrified her far more than Nightmare Moon ever had. And it wouldn’t be just her suffering the consequences for them.

“You will err,” Luna allowed. “But you will learn. And therein lies the strength of the diarchy. There is no single point of failure. We will check each other’s missteps. I won’t pretend to be fully acclimated to the modern era anymore than I believe you’re ready to dive headfirst into a position of such responsibility. Together, however, we will successfully steer the ship of state.”

It was a nice thought. It might even be true. But Twilight knew that didn’t encompass the entirety of Luna’s motivation for putting her on the Solar Throne. Nor did neutralizing a potentially powerful enemy. In all honesty, once she’d had the time to truly sit down and think, she’d found she didn’t understand much of this arrangement. But now that she and Luna had a moment to themselves, she could start tearing down the veil of mystery.

“Princess Celestia would serve that role for you much better than I would.”

A dismissive snort met that fact. “Too well,” Luna retorted. “Were I so inclined to tolerate her presence, she would overshadow me. I am not interested in repeating history.”

“Cadance, then.”

“Despite my sister’s bad habit of shoving work off onto her, I would not put a house guest on an Equestrian throne.”

What? A house guest? No, not important. Twilight shook off her confusion. “Fine. But me?”

“Why not you?”

In a moment of perfect self-awareness, Twilight replied, “You…don’t know me very well, do you?” Her anxiety attacks and OCD hardly made her fit for a high stress, high responsibility role in government, let alone the Solar Regent. Throw her perfectionism into the brew, and that made her a simmering cauldron waiting to explode. She’d thought Luna had learned everything about her from Princess Celestia, both the good and the bad, but perhaps there were some significant holes in that information.

“No, nevermind.” Luna would understand in time. “What if I start organizing against you?”

Luna quirked an eyebrow. “Do I need to keep you on a leash?”

Although she hated to admit it, Twilight let out a morose, “No,” and looked away. Their interests were remarkably well aligned when one removed Princess Celestia from consideration. And even when you don’t, whispered a small voice she ruthlessly ignored.

“Then I trust you’ll keep such resistance purely political with sound judgment according to your own beliefs. That’s the entire point of you having the throne.”

It really did frustrate Twilight how confident and at ease Luna was in her victory. If Twilight were in those horseshoes, she knew she’d be a paranoid mess. She had a hard enough time being a mere semi-willing accessory.

“On that note, there is a matter we must discuss.”

Twilight turned her gaze back onto Luna and raised her brow in silent question.

“Scheduling. I must be awake at night to fulfill all of my duties. I dread to see what’s become of the Dream Realm in my absence. And you” – Luna smirked and gestured toward Twilight’s balcony where her telescope sat waiting for the night sky to emerge – “are an infamous burner of the midnight oil.”

Blushing, Twilight defended herself with a simple but effective, “So what?” The stars were beautiful no matter who arranged them, and the night had a quiet peace the day never did.

“My preference is to sleep after raising the sun and begin work in the afternoon rather than sleeping through the afternoon and waking at moonrise.”

That actually sounded like a dream come true. “Sounds nice,” Twilight admitted with a calculated aloofness. Best not to give Luna too much ammunition to use against her.

“Indeed. However, this would require us to shift our government’s hours of operation to sync with our own schedules. How well do you think this will go over?”

“Hmm… Not…great,” Twilight guessed. It would inevitably produce a ripple effect in all other business. Those with government contracts would have to adjust first, and then the ponies they worked with would have to shift their hours of operation, and so on and so forth. Restaurants would perhaps have the hardest time as they tried to cater to shifting meal times and an eventual dramatic change in culture. Perhaps farmers as well, since they worked best in daylight. “We could phase it in over time across several departments to reduce the cultural shock and economic impact. We have direct contact with only a small fraction of our government, so it should be possible to change our own schedules immediately with some careful planning. I’ll get started on the proposal and have it finished before the week ends if I can.”

“Excellent.” Luna rose from her cushion. As she moved to leave, she placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder as she passed. “Glad to be working with you, Princess.”

And it was only then that Twilight realized she’d leapt at the chance to reorganize the government with the same eager glee that always accompanied her own personal scheduling and list making. Luna hadn’t asked for her to do it, nor vaguely implied she should, nor even suggested they would even more forward with the idea. She’d just assumed and taken the task for herself. A groan escaped her, and she fell to her rear as she buried her face in both her forehooves. This was it. She’d completely fallen to the darkness.

Luna chuckled as she left. When she was at the door, Twilight called out for her to wait. If Luna wouldn’t answer her original question directly, Twilight would just have to approach it from another angle.

“What would you have done if I’d refused to work with you?”

“What do you think I would have done?” Luna retorted dismissively.

“Kill me?” It was one of the options Luna had given Twilight at the ‘crossroads of her destiny’. Although now that she thought about it, that would’ve been rather difficult what with her being immortal and all. Perhaps a full memory wipe would serve as a viable alternative.

Luna rolled her eyes. “Give me some credit, Twilight.”

“You said you would.”

“Nightmare Moon said she would.” Luna leveled an expectant look at Twilight.

“But you are–” The full depth of her failure hit Twilight just then. “Oh. You would have rescued me from yourself and lied to me like everypony else.”

“Precisely. The damage was done either way. I’d already shaken you from the path my sister set out for you.”

Even having come to terms with that fact – or so Twilight liked to pretend – it still came as a heavy blow when brought up so casually.

“In the end, it was only a question of whether I could trust you with the full truth or not.”

And that brought this conversation fully back around to the big mystery. It made no sense for Luna to take that gamble and introduce such a large variable into her plans. “Why did you even bother to find out?” To Twilight, although she couldn’t put her hoof on precisely why, it felt like if she could just answer that one single, solitary question, she would understand everything about Luna’s actions and motivations.

Luna didn’t answer with the promptness Twilight had come to expect from her. Instead, she first mulled over her words. Eventually, she said, “You’ll have to decide that one for yourself. You wouldn’t believe any answer I gave you.”

I certainly don’t believe that. Which, when Twilight considered it, only validated Luna’s response. How frustrating. And, of course, Luna slipped out the door while she considered how to press for a better answer.

With a skip in his step and a letter held aloft in his magic, Shining made his way through the castle. Cadance had returned to Canterlot and wanted to meet up for a picnic date. Sure, she wanted Twilight there as well, but that was understandable. There’d been a lot of changes to their lives recently. It would be good to catch up.

Determining Twilight’s location was easy enough. He did, after all, command the entire Royal Guard from the brass down to the ponies currently assigned to protect her. In this particular instance, she was in her tower. A curious place, isolated from the castle proper but within its walls, the tower suited her needs well. It had room for a small library, the first several floors were fortified for magical experiments and storage, accessible only from the living space above, and the view of the night sky was to die for.

On his way up the stairs to Twilight’s front door, Shining ran into Princess Luna on her way down. He stepped aside and slipped into a salute. “Good evening, Your Highness.”

“Captain Armor.” Princess Luna slowed to a stop and gestured for Shining to be at ease. “You appear to be in an exceptional mood this evening.”

Without knowing if Princess Luna knew he was courting her niece, Shining felt it best to keep his response simple. “I have a date tonight.” He’d let Twilight spring precisely with whom on her in his place some other time.

For now, at least, Princess Luna remained in good cheer with a knowing smile on her face. “I’ll not keep you, then, Captain. Before I depart, however, one question. How often does Twilight overwork herself?”

“Have you forced her to go to bed within the past day?”

“Ah.” Princess Luna understood immediately. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll have to teach her delegation as soon as possible.”

“Heh. We’ve had some success with that already. She has her number one…” A frown slowly emerged on Shining’s face. Now that he brought it up, he hadn’t seen Spike around the castle since Twilight’s return. Had something happened?

Princess Luna cleared her throat. “You were saying, Captain?”

“Ah. Has she told you about Spike?” Upon receiving a shake of the head, Shining said, “You should get the full story from her sometime. In short, she hatched a dragon egg when she was a filly and named him Spike. She’s his guardian now, and he usually helps her out with the little things she’s comfortable delegating to him. Mostly dictation and library work.”

“Very interesting,” Princess Luna mused. After a few moments, she added, “I’d like to meet this Spike. But another day. Enjoy your date, Captain.”

With that, they parted ways. Princess Luna continued down the stairs while Shining climbed the spiral the rest of the way up to Twilight’s door. He knocked only to be told, “Go away!” He rolled his eyes and entered anyway.

Inside, he found Twilight slouched over on one of her tables at work with quill and paper floating in the air. Not a very royal image, but it was very her.

“It’s your prerogative to ignore the world, Your Highness, but–”

Without warning, Twilight teleported into a hug. “Shining!”

Once he recovered from the surprise, Shining wrapped an arm around Twilight’s shoulders. “Hey there, Twily. It’s good to see you too.” They separated, and he looked around the tower. “Where’s Spike?”

Twilight bit her lip.

A cold feeling crept into Shining’s chest. “Did something happen?”

“No! I mean, no, he’s fine. He’s still in Ponyville.” A very quiet and concerning, “Probably,” followed which Shining almost missed.

For the moment, however, Shining would give Twilight the benefit of the doubt and assume she hadn’t completely abandoned her ward. There were some rather extenuating circumstances recently for which she would be forgiven, after all. “Well, you should go bring him back soon. I ran into Princess Luna on her way out and mentioned him. She wanted to meet him sometime.”

Twilight froze in place.

“Come on, Your Highness,” Shining said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s nothing to worry over. We kept telling you to relax around Princess Celestia. Are we going to have to do the same with Princess Luna?”

Twilight, at last, unfroze. “Oh. Meeting Spike. That sounds like a great idea.” She teleported back to her table and made a show of getting back to work. “I’m just so swamped right now. And he really hit it off with…Fluttershy and Rarity, I think it was. I’d hate to take that away from him. He’s had so much trouble making friends here.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

For not having a book in front of her, Twilight grew unusually still and quiet at Shining’s unimpressed delivery, her head hung low with her back toward him. Shining hadn’t meant that comment to sting so much. Her usual response would be that she simply didn’t have time for friends.

With a sigh, Shining crossed the distance between them and then sat down on the opposite end of the table. It was hard to describe the look Twilight wore. It wasn’t hurt or anger. Regret was a step too far. Perhaps melancholy fit it best? Regardless, he knew just what would cheer her up. He levitated Cadance’s letter in-between them and waved it back and forth.

“Guess who’s back in town?” he sang.

Shining watched life visibly return to Twilight with a smile. She recognized the hoofwriting as he knew she would. “Cadance!” And then, perplexingly, she wilted once more.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to see her?”

“No, no,” Twilight protested half-heartedly. “I want to see her. I do. It’s just, well, like I said, there’s so much that I need to do. There’s some complications with Luna’s duties, and I volunteered myself to optimize the situation. Then there’s the cleanup from eternal night, which, let me tell you, is a huge headache. The injuries. The damages. The weather. My schedule is packed solid with meetings throughout the entire day tomorrow. And of course there’s the backlog of stuff Princess Celestia normally would have addressed that I haven’t even touched yet. I have Luna to split the work with, but even then, it’s overwhelming. I’m not sure if it would be a good idea for me to shirk my new responsibilities. Especially not so early in my tenure.”

Those all sounded an awful lot like excuses. Shining knew without a doubt that Twilight hadn’t told him even nearly everything that had happened over the last eight days. There were some things she probably couldn’t, and he respected that, but it wouldn’t do to let her isolate herself like this and struggle on alone. First Spike, now Cadance. Did she intend to send him away as well? Their parents?

“Twilight, you haven’t even been crowned yet.”

“That’s just a formality,” she countered.

“Perhaps,” Shining allowed, “but you just helped save the entire world. Have you taken any time off to recover?”

Quietly, Twilight replied, “I’m an alicorn. I only need two minutes max to recover from anything.”

Shining rolled his eyes. “Mentally, Twilight. It doesn’t matter what shape your body is in if you’re about to have a breakdown.” It certainly wouldn’t be the first time they’d suffered through one of her episodes. This evasiveness was one of the early warning signs.

After a few moments to absorb Shining’s words, Twilight shot upright, her eyes sparkling as they always did when she had an idea. “Perhaps you’re right. I should write her a letter! You could take it to her for me!”

Shining very slowly raised his brow. “You want me to be a delivery pony.”

A nod met the statement.

“When Cadance is but a teleport away for you.”

This time Twilight hesitated. “It does seem silly when you put it like that.”

“Because you’re being silly.” Without asking permission, as was his prerogative as the elder sibling, Shining picked Twilight up with his magic. “Come on. Cadance is waiting for us.” Despite her squirming, he carried her out the door and down the stairs. He generously placed her on her own hooves once they were at the base of her tower, much to her guards’ silent amusement. “Since you’re still here, I assume you’re coming?”

“I…suppose so. Let me just…” Twilight cast a spell to conceal their destination and then teleported both of them to the middle of Canterlot. “There. Now we won’t have any nosy ponies following us.”

Shining frowned. “Or any protection.”

“I have you, don’t I?”

While he couldn’t argue with that logic, Shining still disapproved. He set them off toward the park where Cadance awaited them and pondered what to say. He couldn’t be direct. The entire family had tried that already to no effect. But perhaps there was another way to make the message stick.

“During the eternal night, Princess Celestia vanished to fight Nightmare Moon on her own without telling anypony. We were left leaderless. Stumbling in the dark trying to determine both what was happening and what to do about it. We lost a lot of time we could have spent trying to help ponies simply because she declined to keep at least one other pony informed.” Shining paused a moment before adding, “Unless you were that pony, in which case poor decision on her part.”

That managed to pull a smile out of Twilight. “No, I was flying blind as well, just with a head start from my own research.”

For a time, they walked in comfortable silence. The ponies around them parted to make way, many stopping entirely to bow or stare at the new Solar Regent. Twilight, deep in thought as always, hardly noticed. Shining had honestly expected the attention to bother her, but he supposed she had more important things to stress out about these days.

“You’re right,” Twilight eventually admitted. “Our lives would look very different if” – she hesitated a moment as though unsure of what word to choose – “we were aware of the situation ahead of time. The next time I get sent to some random village or disappear into the unknown reaches of the archives to hunt down a book, I’ll try to remember to take a moment to tell somepony where I’m going.”

Shining nodded approvingly. With that out of the way, he asked a question he’d wanted to know the answer to for what felt like ages. “So. You’re an alicorn?”

Twilight, eyebrow arched in Shining’s direction, merely extended her wings in answer.

“Right. But how did that happen?” Cadance understandably didn’t like to talk about her early years, what with her being an orphan, but that hadn’t stopped Shining’s curiosity.

“An excellent question,” Twilight said as she prepared herself for a lecture. Wings or not, Twilight was still Twilight. “There are many theories concerning where alicorns come from. Most of them are demonstrably nonsense, but a few come close to the mark. The important question to ask is why are there so few of us? Or, rather, where is the bottleneck? As it happens, we’re born from the intersection of belief and magic.”

“I’m certain Mom would disagree with you on that,” Shining dryly observed. His little sister most certainly had not been conjured from the aether simply by wishing really hard for her. He’d been at the hospital when she’d been born and, left unsupervised at perhaps the worst possible time, had ended up scarred for life.

Twilight rolled her eyes and let out a huff. “I’m trying to spare you the mysticism. It’s all very arcane, and Luna and I have had more important things to do than teach me where baby alicorns come from. Work with me here.”

“Yes, yes, Your Highness.”

“Hmph. Anyway, vastly oversimplified, when we use magic, it doesn’t just vanish into nothing when we’re done. There’s magical residue and usually waste magic as well. Moreover, residual magic retains an impression of its intended use. This is what ultimately makes up the ambient magic of the world.

“Now ambient magic has a tendency to…let’s say clump together over time. This can have interesting spontaneous effects like the Frozen North’s perpetual winter, but of greater concern at the moment is when it binds to a pony of similarly natured magic. Princess Celestia has day magic. Luna, night magic. Cadance, love magic. I got all of the untyped waste magic.”

“So,” Shining began slowly, “are you a pony-shaped lump of magic or a pony with a massive secondary source of magic?” It sounded like the latter, but this was a very esoteric subject far beyond his own studies.

Twilight, after a period of uncertain humming, replied, “To be honest, I’m unsure. A lot of what Luna told me amounted to the alicorn equivalent of ‘if you have to ask, you’re too young to know’.”

Unable to help himself, a grin erupted onto Shining’s face. He wrapped an arm around Twilight’s neck and pulled her close as they walked. “Aww, my little sister is growing up, ruling the nation, and wants to know more about the facts of life.”

“Oh, get off,” Twilight said as she pushed Shining away. He laughed, and she mumbled something he didn’t quite catch. But given the context, he hardly needed to.

“I’m going to tell Cadance you said that.”

A blush immediately lit up Twilight’s face. “You’d better not, or I’ll… Or I’ll smite you.”

“Smite me?” That was adorable. Shining played along with the miniature physical goddess. “Ha! I’m under the protection of a much more powerful alicorn than you. She can send you to your room.”

“What! That is not how this works anymore.”

“Oh, yes it is. You have no power over me.”

Twilight harrumphed and conceded the debate via her silence.

“I’m glad you understand your position, Twily. Now let’s hurry up. I have a goddess of love to worship.”

“Ew! Shining! I didn’t need to hear that!”

Shining just laughed at his little sister’s distress.

Crystal Park
Canterlot, Equestria
First Summer Moon 8, 1 LE

Hmm… There’s Shining and Twilight. A twist of a few knobs caused Cadance’s telescope to zoom out and offer her a wider view of the park below. A little magical cantrip changed it to display magical radiation instead of the more mundane electromagnetic spectrum. It’s definitely them. I’d recognise their magic anywhere. A quick look around determined that they were, relatively speaking, alone. Nightmare Moon doesn’t seem to be following them, although they could be bespelled.

Deciding that, in this case, discretion was the better part of valor, Cadance pulled a set of writing supplies from her saddlebags. After jotting down a short note, she folded it into a paper plane and then enchanted it to fly down to her coltfriend and favorite filly. With a gentle toss, it set off on its mission, curving between buildings and ultimately approaching its destination from an entirely different direction than it’d started.

Cadance went back to her telescope and watched Shining read the letter. Although his expression showed his confusion – he didn’t, after all, know what danger he was in – he acquiesced to check both himself and Twilight for any perfidious spells. He found none, judging by their distinct lack of a reaction, and she supposed that would have to do.

After repacking her belongings into her saddlebags and picking up her picnic basket, Cadance reapplied her pegasus disguise, a simple little illusion any unicorn could cast with enough practice. She then leapt off her perch to glide down into the park. Once there, she landed impolitely close for strangers but then greeted Twilight in the traditional manner.

“Sunshine, sunshine–”

Twilight caught on immediately and joined in on their silly ritual.

“–ladybugs awake. Clap your hooves, and do a little shake.”

And with that, Twilight leapt into a hug with all the desperate need Cadance expected of somepony reunited with a beloved friend who’d been missing for days. After a bit of comforting, she extended a hoof to invite Shining to join in the moment, which he accepted without hesitation.

In Cadance’s ear, Twilight whispered, “You shouldn’t be here.”

Cadance’s eyes widened as her breath caught. Twilight knew?

“Please don’t tell my brother anything.”

This changed the entire situation. They urgently needed to speak in private. As such, when they separated, Cadance held her picnic basket up to Shining. “Would you set this up for us? Twilight and I need to have a princess meeting.”

Shining sent Cadance a questioning look but once more acquiesced to her request. He took the basket in his magic and left to find a nice place to lay down a blanket. Meanwhile, Twilight cast a few temporary spells to prevent eavesdropping.

Alone together, Cadance inspected her favorite filly. Twilight looked, in a word, stressed – and nervous now that Shining had departed. She was too mature now to carry an injury for any length of time, but she didn’t show any other signs of being an abuse victim. Cadance took solace in that. But speaking of, she broke the ice with a simple observation. “Your wings grew in.”

“They haven’t.” Twilight unfurled her wings and gestured to one with a hoof. “These are the result of a species transmogrification. Biologically, I’m still fully a unicorn. Just one also generating some non-unicorn magic.”

“Oh.” Cadance vaguely recalled a spell to the effect, but that was far outside her area of expertise. “It’s been…a while. Doesn’t that require a sample from the target species?”

Twilight nodded.

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

What an awkward moment this had become – awkward and surprising. This was not nearly the situation Cadance had expected to fly into. Nightmare Moon seemed strangely invested in Twilight, and she had no idea what to make of that.

“Hey.” Twilight pulled Cadance from her thoughts. “Are you the Crystal Princess?”

Well, that’s a perfectly awkward question. A fake chuckle escaped Cadance to fill the silence. “Kind of.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “How old are you?”

“Um… It depends on how you’re counting?”

“What does that mean?”

Cadance wished for a distraction, but none appeared. “Let’s just say I’m young enough for your brother and you shouldn’t trust Aunt Celestia’s aim with a banishment spell.”

Hoof raised, Twilight opened her mouth to speak only to find that she didn’t have any words.

Cadance faked a cough. She should probably have this conversation with Shining at some point, but she really didn’t like talking about it. She’d been the Crystal Princess for a grand total of a week before Sombra went off the deep end and made her call in help. Then she’d gotten banished, awakened in the distant future, discovered that her empire was still gone, and finally had to fly through half the Frozen North to get to Equestria. She still had the occasional nightmare about being frozen alive. “Who told you about me?”

“Luna brought the subject up a couple times and later called you a house guest. I put two and two together.”

“Luna?” Oh dear. How to start this conversation… “Twilight, you do know Nightmare Moon is Luna’s evil alter ego, right?”

“Your precise usage is both debatable and none of my concern. I have to deal with the pony on the Lunar Throne. If she identifies as Luna, I am not going to contest her on that.”

Cadance certainly couldn’t fault the pragmatic approach to the situation.

“But yes,” Twilight continued. “I am aware that I just took part in the biggest government conspiracy since–” She came to a full stop, oddly enough, in the middle of an academic reference. “Uh, nevermind.” She bit her lip. “Why are you here? In case it’s not obvious, Luna isn’t afraid to hurt ponies to get what she wants, and you’re a major threat to her rule.”

They would get to that soon enough. For now, Twilight had just raised a major red flag.

“She hasn’t hurt you, has she?”

It took a moment too long for comfort before Twilight replied, “Only when it didn’t count. I was trying to escape with the Elements of Harmony.”

Cadance quickly made a mental note that Nightmare Moon had possession of the Elements, which severely complicated matters.

“What if she finds out you met me?” Cadance already knew the answer to that question, but Twilight needed to realize it herself.

The mare in question bit her lip again, seeming to fight some internal battle. “She wouldn’t,” Twilight said to her hooves.

Gently, Cadance asked, “Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”

“You.”

Cadance blinked. That hadn’t been the response she’d expected. It didn’t sound like Twilight meant to make some noble sacrifice, but she didn’t know how else to interpret that. Why was she so sure that Nightmare Moon wouldn’t hurt her? And more importantly, why did she seem so hesitant to admit it? It wasn’t like she’d been seduced and become the nightmare’s consort!

“Cadance,” Twilight solemnly asked once more, “why are you here?”

“Ah.” Cadance’s thoughts slipped away. “I came here to warn you. Or rescue you.”

Her face melting into a smile, Twilight leaned forward into a warm hug and wrapped both arms around the crest of Cadance’s neck. “I appreciate the risk you took coming here,” she began, “but I never needed rescuing.”

“I know. You’re a big, strong alicorn now, not a filly. But everypony needs some help sometimes.”

Twilight laughed silently against Cadance, rising and falling with each breath. She didn’t quite understand the joke, but if it helped Twilight through all this, she didn’t much care even if it was at her expense. She just held Twilight and gently rubbed her back until she moved to separate.

“Feeling better?”

A nod met the question.

“We can make a run for it, if you want. You, me, Shining, Spike, and your parents.”

This time Twilight shook her head. “I can’t. I have too much I need to do here.”

Cadance rolled her eyes. Leave it to Twilight to prioritize bureaucracy over her own personal safety.

“I probably shouldn’t ask, but where will you go?”

If Twilight intended to stay here under Nightmare Moon’s power, it certainly would be better for everypony if Cadance kept quiet, but she didn’t want to keep her favorite filly completely in the dark when Twilight knew so much already. “I’ll fly south. I have a plan to fix everything–”

“You do?” Twilight asked excitedly.

Nodding, Cadance said, “I hope so. There are a few kinks to work out, but I have high hopes. First, I have to meet with, ugh, an old acquaintance to see if she’ll help. And not spark a war in the process.” She could already feel her headache mounting. Without the looming cold death of the world to grease the wheels of diplomacy, this all became much more difficult. “Oh, speaking of, it would help if Your Highness officially endorsed me as an Equestrian diplomat.”

“Huh? But – oh. Right. Foreign princess.” Twilight’s smile slowly turned to a frown. “I don’t know, Cadance. Strictly speaking, Luna and I have to agree on envoys. You might be better off from a legal standpoint petitioning for intervention as an Equestrian ally rather than getting caught up in the tangly web of treason I’d have to spin.”

After thinking about it for a while, Cadance reluctantly admitted Twilight had a point. They had the legal high ground, strictly speaking, but the technicalities and hearsay involved would turn everything into a mess. It’d be best to keep Twilight as uninvolved as possible for as long as possible.

Adopting a playfully petulant tone, Cadance said, “I hate that you’re already better at this than me.”

“I studied many subjects under Princess Celestia,” Twilight said with feigned haughtiness. “Some more enthusiastically than others.” She ruffled her wings and dropped the act. “Although I now see the reasoning behind some of them.”

Cadance heard the unasked question in that voice. “Aunt Celestia felt it would be better for you to experience a relatively normal life before, well, all this.”

“I figured.” Twilight offered up a small smile that Cadance took to mean she understood why she’d been kept in the dark. It didn’t last for long, however. “Cadance, how…how likely is your plan to work?”

“Optimistically, I’d say it’s either a sure thing or certain failure.”

Twilight visibly fought down the urge to press for details. Once she’d won that battle, she said, “Just don’t expose Luna. That’s one genie we can’t put back in the bottle.”

“I’ll try my best.” It sounded like solid advice, all things considered. The public narrative already had both Twilight and Nightmare Moon working on freeing Celestia from banishment. The best case scenario here, as Cadance saw it, only required her to turn fiction into truth.

After a moment’s hesitation, Twilight nodded and wished Cadance good luck. “I’ll try to keep Luna occupied. Enjoy your date, but don’t…tarry.”

As she left the park, Twilight glanced back to witness the end of her brother’s surprising patience when he and Cadance reunited. This might be the last time they could see each other for several moons, so she would buy them as much time as she could for them to be together. She certainly owed the mare at least that much for everything Cadance had done for her over the years. Better yet, Cadance had given her an out to her uneasy alliance with Luna. All she had to do was nothing and everything would go back to normal.

Normal… Twilight imagined a normal day of her life not even two weeks ago. She’d wake up with just enough time to get ready for the day and then hurry off to attend class. If Princess Celestia had some free time, she’d have some private instruction. Once done, she’d continue her own independent studies somewhere nice and quiet until Spike reminded her that she should eat something. Depending on her mood, she’d either eat alone or join some part of her family. Then she would spend the rest of the night reading and maybe take a few moments to observe the heavens. Perhaps she would make an effort to be more social like Princess Celestia had wanted.

A bittersweet sigh escaped on Twilight’s breath. She’d loved that life, but too much had changed to go back to it. Even if Luna fell from power, she would still be a princess. Even if Princess Celestia reclaimed her throne, she’d still have a voice in government. I’ll still be able to move Equestria forward into a new age of progress and discovery. Even if she had to stand up to the princess.

Yes, everything would turn out perfectly.

Back in the center of Canterlot, Twilight made a quick stop at Donut Joe’s to pick up a snack. She doubted either she or Luna would actually get around to eating for a good while yet, especially considering how much time her little unplanned excursion with Shining and Cadance had consumed, and what better pick-me-up could a pony find in Equestria?

With provisions in hoof, Twilight teleported back to the castle gates. The guards posted at either side of the entrance recognised her on sight and granted her access with mirrored salutes. That last part was new and something she would just have to get used to.

Luna had commandeered a room for her own use at the top of one of the castle’s many towers. At this time of day, Twilight imagined she would be up there in comfort while trying to clear the paperwork backlog after-hours. She identified the balcony she wanted and, rather than teleport, chose to fly up. It was more polite with substantially less risk of bouncing off a ward, more akin to knocking on a door with a hoof instead of a battering ram.

Besides, even if she still needed practice – a lot of practice, some ponies said – Twilight had to admit she loved flying. The flowing sensation of air beneath her wings, the mocking defiance of gravity, the soft, fluffy clouds – it all really made the whole ‘was secretly an alicorn’ thing feel real.

“Alright, Twilight, play it cool. You’re just here to share a pre-dinner snack, nothing duplicitous. You just happened to be in town and got something for us both. It’s a chance to make peace. Bury the hatchet.” She touched down on the balcony. “Right. You can do this.”

Walking forward, Twilight called out, “Luna?” and promptly received permission to enter. Only the very basic necessities had been installed so far, but she could already tell that the royal sisters had a very stark difference in decor preferences. Sure, they both stayed on theme – day for Princess Celestia, night for Luna – but the similarities ended there. The princess tended toward open spaces, whereas Luna already showed a desire for cozy corners and privacy. Princess Celestia liked to sleep low to the ground near a warm fireplace, while Luna had a proper bed with blankets.

Luna, hard at work, set aside her quill and turned to face her guest. “What brings you here this evening?”

In answer, Twilight held up her takeout bag. “Doughnut?”

For perhaps the first time since they’d met, Luna actually looked surprised. “From the smell, I’m guessing that’s a pastry.”

“Mm-hmm. I stopped by Donut Joe’s. Best in Equestria.”

“Well, I’m hardly going to say no to free food.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. Opening the bag, she took her favorite for herself and passed off a simple glazed one to Luna. Like ice cream, best to start her on vanilla and then explore from there. And from the sound she made upon her first bite, she enjoyed it enough for there to be plenty of exploration in the future.

“You called this a doughnut?”

“Mhm,” Twilight hummed through a mouthful of her own. “I take it you’ll be wanting more sometime.”

“Most definitely. I admit I’ve been lax in sampling the changes to Equestria’s diet. I was aware sugar and spices have become commonplace, for example, but I’ve not yet had the opportunity to indulge in everything new.”

In hindsight, Twilight probably should have expected such enthusiasm. Luna wasn’t a good pony, but she didn’t exist in a vacuum of misery and evil. She delighted in the simple things like everypony else. Still, sharing sweets with her felt…uncomfortably domestic for their relationship thus far.

“Luna.” After Twilight had her full attention – or at least as much as she could rip away from the quickly vanishing sugar ring in the mare’s magic – she continued, “If this arrangement we have is going to last, we should try to get along.”

“Personally, I much enjoy the time we spend together.”

A small sigh escaped Twilight. “I’ll buy you more doughnuts if you’ll tone down the condescension.”

“Villain! Does this not taste of bribery?” Luna consumed the very last bite of her snack. “But that makes it all the sweeter. I accept.”

That actually worked? Despite herself, Twilight found a smile growing on her face and had to fight down a little laughter.

“I do have centuries more experience than you, but I will attempt to couch my advice in more palatable and direct terms in the future. I suppose I’ve been letting too much of my inner Star Swirl show.”

“Wait.” Twilight could hardly believe it. “You knew Star Swirl the Bearded?” Luna had only ever mentioned being born after him.

Luna appeared perplexed as she replied, “Of course I knew him. He was one of the last unicorns to move the heavens. In fact, he personally instructed me and my sister in magic. Did she never tell you?”

In a hard fought battle, Twilight resisted the urge to squeal and jump around in excitement. Her mentor’s mentor was Star Swirl the Bearded! Today would go down in history as the best day ever. “What was he like? I’ve read all the historical sources we have available, but, well, few of them are contemporary.”

Luna took a few moments to ponder the question. “He was…not what you likely expect,” she began slowly. “Although I have many fond memories of him, he ran hot and cold. Mostly cold to me, as we tended to rub each other the wrong way. He could be eccentric and carefree, but he could also be exceedingly dismissive and held grudges longer than anypony I’ve ever known, myself included.”

That was a remarkable amount of self-awareness, all things considered. Twilight quirked an eyebrow at her, but Luna laughed it off.

“Perhaps it’s not surprising that my sister never spoke of him. Their relationship fell apart one day over some private argument as mine with her did, and we both know how that turned out.”

A silent gasp escaped Twilight. “She didn’t banish him, did she?” Only after the words came out did Twilight frown over how she’d immediately leapt to that conclusion. It made sense in context, but she wouldn’t have so much as thought of the possibility only a couple weeks ago.

“To be honest,” Luna began, “I don’t know. He left, and that was the last anypony heard of him. It’s very unlikely my sister had a hoof in that as we were barely mares by the standards of the time. The more probable culprit is the Pony of Shadows. We later discovered that he disappeared around the same time as Star Swirl but could never find any evidence linking the two events together.”

“The Pony of Shadows?” Twilight vaguely recalled Luna mentioning that old mares’ tale but hadn’t given it any thought since.

“A creature of darkness from before my time,” Luna said with a dismissive wave of her hoof, “and a story for another day. You wanted to know of Star Swirl. Any particular topic?”

Twilight quickly rattled off a half-dozen in answer before being told in clear terms to pick but one. After a lengthy internal debate full of tears, indecision, and fear of messing up the opportunity of a lifetime, she decided upon hearing one of his less well known adventures. She pulled paper from Luna’s desk, stole a quill, and then settled in to take copious notes. If Cadance ever needed a distraction again, she’d volunteer in a heartbeat.

Canterlot Central Station
Canterlot, Equestria
First Summer Moon 8, 1 LE

Sneaking into the city hadn’t been hard, but it had been exhausting. The crystal caves beneath Canterlot, the mines within in complete disrepair, were a nightmare to traverse. They, Cadance had decided, would not be her way out if she had any other option. And with Twilight distracting Nightmare Moon, she felt safe enough taking the overnight train to Appleloosa at Equestria’s southern border. Tomorrow, then, she could begin her long flight over the Badlands with a good night’s rest.

“Must you go?” Shining asked.

She didn’t want to, but she had to. Cadance nodded.

“Will you at least tell me why?”

Cadance placed a gentle hoof upon her love’s cheek and leaned in to steal a kiss. “You’d have to ask Twilight, Shiny.”

Equestria was Twilight’s kingdom now. While that change came many years too early, it left Cadance in a sticky legal situation nonetheless. Twilight wanted her brother, the Captain of the Royal Guard, kept in the dark. To ignore that request without outright refusing to acknowledge her sovereignty – something that would have undesirable long-term consequences no matter what they both wanted – Cadance would have to take steps neither she nor Shining was ready for. Thus she deferred responsibility onto Twilight.

“It’s some hush-hush diplomacy,” Cadance added. Hopefully that would tide Shining over. “I won’t be back for a while, but I promise I’ll write. I’m sure Spike won’t mind delivering a few letters for us.”

Shining breathed deep. “Very well,” he said, drawing it out with an exaggerated sigh.

“Oh, speaking of, I have a letter for Twilight.” Cadance shifted to slide her saddlebags off and rooted around inside them after they’d landed on the floor. “Where… Ah-ha! Here it is.” If she never made it back to Equestria, it would explain exactly where she’d gone and why. She hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but better to be safe than sorry. “Give it to her when it’s just you two, and tell her not to open it unless I don’t come back.”

Distinctly unhappy with the task, Shining asked, “This isn’t a will, is it?”

Cadance smiled at the silly question. “Alicorn, love.”

“Oh, right. Immortality. Then it shall be as you command, Your Highness.”

That managed to pull a giggle out of Cadance. After exchanging one last kiss and embrace, she snatched up her saddlebags with a hoof and boarded the train. She found a seat just as the whistle made its last call for passengers. Then with a hiss of steam and a solid jerk, the train’s magically powered engine came to life. The wheels clacked against the rails as it slowly gained speed, and she took this final opportunity to lean out the window and wave goodbye. Shining waved back and sent his love with it.

When the station and Shining were finally out of sight, lost behind the cityscape, Cadance heaved a longing sigh as she settled into her seat. She already missed her friends and the family she’d all but joined. “Oh well. There’s nothing for it.” She’d just have to get used to being alone again for a while.

Reluctantly, Cadance distracted herself with reorganizing her saddlebags. She’d made a mess of them earlier looking for her letter to Twilight and didn’t want to have random objects poking her in the side later.

As Cadance did this, she spied something that didn’t belong to her. Somepony had slipped a letter of their own into her things. The royal blue envelope had no address, sender, or even a wax seal, only her name. A quick magical scan revealed no active spells at work upon it. Shrugging, she opened it and read the contents.

‘Given my recent escape, I felt it prudent to check up on the other problems my sister and I brushed under the rug during our reign. Your empire will return in approximately two years, and Sombra along with it. Make your decisions until then wisely.’

Cadance grew ever paler the further she got. She didn’t need to read the letter’s signature to know who’d written it.

Klugetown, Bone Dry Desert
First Summer Moon 8, 1 LE

“You sold. My! Horn!” Tempest Shadow punctuated each word with a punch to the face. It’d taken her five days to track down this no-name scumbag, half of that through the biting frost of eternal night, and somehow the filth had already found someone to pawn it off on. “Do you know how many years I’ve spent carrying it around looking for someone to reattach it?”

The overgrown hedgehog had the gall to say, “It’s not like it was doing you any good, lady.”

Tempest felt her magic building up in the broken remains of her horn, a sensation not unlike a cracked dam trying to hold back a river. Bits of magic leaked out in crackling bolts that charged the air with her fury.

The hedgehog in her grasp, realizing just how much trouble he was in, tried to deny reality by acting tough. “Ooh, very scary. The hornless unicorn is gonna cast a spell.” He tried to shove Tempest off him, but she slammed him back onto the ground.

“Fun fact.” Tempest drew the words out and laced them with the promise of pain. “Magic has a will of its own. Sure, I can’t cast any fancy, structured spells, but neither can most unicorns. No, they get by just fine letting their innate magic act as it pleases upon command. And me? Well, I’m broken.” She leaned in closer and lowered her aim just shy of striking the hedgehog’s head. “Magic has to do all the work, and all it has to work with is a crude sense of how I’m feeling. It can get…carried away at times.”

Tempest shifted her weight forward further onto the now trembling hedgehog and twisted her hooves down. “So. What do you think Magic thinks I want to do to you?”

Rather than answer the question, the hedgehog, as expected, offered up the pittance he’d made from selling something more precious than his own life. Better yet, he gave up the identity of who he’d sold it to.

That was all Tempest needed. She tossed the scum away and blasted him with her magic for good measure. The world would probably be better off without him in it, but he managed to stumble away around a corner before she could change her mind about letting him live. Still scowling in his direction, she picked up the bag of mixed currencies he’d left behind and inspected its contents. Inside resided a few tiny gems, a pile of stormbucks, some Abyssinian coins, a few she didn’t recognise even after years of wandering the world, and exactly one Equestrian bit, probably the only one actually worth anything. It wasn’t a decoy bag of rocks, which was something, but it might as well have been.

“No matter,” Tempest muttered to herself. She didn’t intend to buy back her own horn anyway. She set out for the bazaar to track down a horn merchant.

Horn merchant – the very existence of the profession made Tempest grind her teeth. How many species channeled magic through their horns? Unicorns and deer, certainly. Centaurs. Alicorns, those sanctimonious, self-centered–

Tempest took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on the task at hoof. It wouldn’t do to be distracted in a place like this. Even for someone as spat upon and well traveled as her, Klugetown was a remarkably vile, faithless place. Part of her was surprised no one had yet been foolish enough to try enslaving her. It’d been a mistake to ever come here despite it being the shortest route to Hippogriffia.

A short while later, Tempest found her mark. A creature that looked something like a large mole had a crude wooden stall open in the bazaar. Atop it, a wide variety of horns from a dozen or more different species sat on display. Not her own, worryingly, but she doubted it would be as a mere matter of supply and demand. Unicorns were exceedingly rare this far from Equestria, so their horns, already beyond value, must have an exorbitant price tag. They weren’t something one would carelessly place where any aspiring thief could steal.

And so Tempest found a shady space to rest and observe her target as just another drifter on the streets. He had enough bulk and size to do business in this wretched place, but nothing about how he moved spoke to any martial training. There were no guards about, and judging by the worn, sun bleached cloak covering him, he didn’t have the wealth to hire any. When the business day was done, she shadowed the mole back to the ramshackle building he called home.

Tempest waited until night fell and donned a hooded cloak. It wouldn’t do to let her target think she had any motivation other than greed.

Breaking in proved easy. The door fell apart with a good kick. In this lawless land, no one cared enough to come stop her or even investigate the disturbance. The horn merchant put up a pathetic fight, doubling over in defeat the moment Tempest landed a single solid strike. She knocked him onto his back and pinned him with a hoof over his neck.

“A hedgehog sold you a unicorn horn,” Tempest plainly stated. “Where is it?”

The mole pointed a trembling claw at a drawer.

Tempest pressed down harder as she said, “Don’t move.” When she was sure he’d gotten the message, she stepped away to investigate. Inside the drawer, she found a pouch. But inside the pouch, she found nothing but sand. She tossed it to the ground and turned her attention back to the dead mole walking.

“I have little patience,” Tempest said with an icy warning in her voice. She stalked forward at a predatory crawl as the mole unconsciously inched away from her. Soon enough, his back bumped up against a wall leaving him with nowhere to go. “If you lie to me again–”

The mole protested in a raspy voice. “I didn’t lie! I ground the horn to dust.”

Tempest froze in place.

“It – it has many magical properties as a powder. Take it. It’s yours.”

The merchant couldn’t have known how accurate those words were or he never would have dared utter them, but Tempest felt something snap in her all the same.

“Just please–”

With a howl of rage, Tempest lunged forward.

The Sky, Amarezonia
Second Summer Moon 4, 1 LE

Cadance regretted taking the land route to the Yucatán Ponynsula. Flying over the Badlands had been brutal and left her perpetually parched. Then she’d had to fly through most of the atrociously humid Amarezonian Jungle to get around the Yucatán Sea. Worse, once when she’d stopped to rest her wings, some gorilla-feline hybrid straight out of a Daring Do book had attacked her. Sure, she’d taken to the air and fled right away, but it was the principle of the matter.

I should have just attempted the flight across the Sparkling Sea like I’d intended to during Nightmare Moon’s eternal night. I could have taken the train to Maretropolis, made the nonstop flight across the sea, and been done with this trip a week ago. I’m an alicorn. I have no excuse. But no. I had to take the ‘easy’ route.

A large boulder with a relatively flat surface caught Cadance’s eye. She arrested her forward momentum with a beat of her wings and dropped to the ground in a controlled fall. This seemed as good a place as any to break for lunch and indulge in a long nap. Neither alicorns nor pegasi were made to fly for as long as she had over the last two weeks. They weren’t even made to fly, really. Glide in favorable conditions, sure, but they needed magic to soar.

And Cadance most certainly felt the strain of pushing her still maturing body’s limits. It’d be another decade before she could make a journey like this at the pace she’d set without wearing herself down. Of course, Twilight could probably do it, but she had absurd amounts of magic at her disposal for her age.

“Well, unicorn magic, at least. Maybe not pegasus magic yet.”

As her thoughts turned to home, Cadance wondered for the hundredth time if she should just return to Equestria. Nightmare Moon seemed reasonable enough so long as nopony crossed her. Then once Cadance had her empire back and dealt with Sombra, she’d be in a much better position politically, militarily, and economically to put pressure on Nightmare Moon if she stepped out of line.

Assuming she isn’t lying about the Crystal Empire’s return. I really should have insisted on investigating when I first got back. But then I suppose I did get a little distracted.

Cadance slowly drifted off to sleep with thoughts of home and dreamt of the unexpected family she’d gathered around her in this day and age. Going back to the Crystal Empire, a duty she’d not refuse when called, would be so bittersweet. But perhaps Shining would come with her. That would be nice. They could have the entire empire all to themselves, no nosy aunts or curious little sisters to get in the way of a little fun.

When she awoke, Cadance quickly packed her things and resumed her flight. She’d turned north this morning to follow the coast. Assuming the intelligence she had was accurate, she should arrive at her destination before sunset.

It didn’t take even half that time before Cadance spotted a hole in the jungle, a barren wasteland without explanation where nothing grew. The desiccated remains of a few trees amidst the rocky land served as a stark reminder of what once was.

When Cadance flew into the affected area, she immediately felt a sharp drain on her magic through her wings. She could still glide. With a bit of experimenting, she found that if she pushed herself, she could still generate enough lift to climb. But nothing else worked as it should. She couldn’t even use levitation, the most basic of basics for a unicorn. Why anypony would want to live in a magical dead zone was beyond her, but–

Wait… A surge of experimental strength ran through Cadance’s limbs unaffected before she let the magic fade. Hmm, my earth pony magic is unaffected. It may have been a bit too hasty for Twilight’s tastes, but Cadance came to a quick conclusion. It must only be external magic that gets drained away here. That’s better than nothing. Worst case scenario, I just barrel my way out of here.

Cadance altered her course to take her to the center of the wasteland where she expected to find her destination. She could see a small, indistinct blob on the horizon. As she drew nearer to it, it grew into a massive jagged spire riddled with holes. A swarm of black dots flittered about it in the air. And they saw her.

“Right. Haven’t done this in a while.” Some customs were better off dead. Cadance pushed magic into her lungs and covered her ears with her hooves. On second thought, she pushed some magic into her ears as well to reinforce them. In the traditional royal voice, she bellowed, “Hey, Lovebug! I’ve come to visit!”

The response was almost immediate. A circle of green fire erupted in the air. From it arose Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings, with a trio of changeling guards in tow. Pure fury was etched upon her face in her narrowed eyes and bared fangs. She snarled, “Who dares–” Then she got a good look at Cadance. “Meal Ticket?”

Author's Note

As a side note, this map is the one I've been using as a reference. Well, approximately. It has one major feature that doesn't jive with the AU I intend to build up in this story, but more on that later.

Thanks go out to Reese for prereading this chapter.

Behold! A shameless promotion for my Patreon page.

Chapter Three - Reunions

Changeling Kingdom
Yucatán Ponynsula, Amarezonia
Second Summer Moon 4, 1 LE

The place Chrysalis had chosen to make her hive’s home had a certain thematic charm, Cadance supposed. Made of living stone, the city changed and reconfigured itself as its residents did. Passages vanished and reappeared without rhyme or reason. Stairs could retract into a wall without warning. Navigation proved, in a word, impossible without either intimate knowledge of the general layout of the structure and its patterns or an entire network of subjects interconnected mentally to produce a constantly updated map.

Needless to say, Chrysalis had both.

The pair traveled in silence, flanked by guards, through the veritable fortress city. Whenever Cadance tried to start up a conversation, Chrysalis merely ignored her. She eventually sighed, gave up, and turned her attention to idly observing the shifting stone around her and politely ignoring the hungry changelings they passed looking at her like a walking feast. She hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but she’d still hoped for more. At least Chrysalis hadn’t tried to throw her into a pod to forget about. She would, however disappointedly, take that as a minor victory.

After a long walk and several unprovoked attempts by the floor to murder her, the party arrived at a large open hall. The main entrance had a series of pillars to denote it as such, which served as perhaps one of the few permanent features of the city. At the hall’s center rose a massive throne of rock. Like the surrounding stone, it shifted form, new holes in its back opening as others closed, but all the while, its basic shape remained constant.

Chrysalis flew up to her throne with a swaggering buzz to her wings. “Guards, leave us!” she commanded. Once they were gone, she made a show of draping herself across her seat of power. “This is a nice change of pace, isn’t it? So much different than it used to be.”

“Urgh.”

“Now then. Whatever reason you’ve come here for can wait. I have waited centuries to hear you say it.”

Bemused, Cadance asked, “Say what?”

“Three words.”

“Oh.” When a pony said that, they usually meant precisely one thing. Cadance didn’t really know where she and Chrysalis stood with each other after her extended absence and everything leading up to it, but perhaps they could bury the hatchet, pretend nothing had ever happened, and rebuild their friendship. If she’d known that were possible, she would have come here years ago. “I love you.”

The changeling language had at least thirty different words for love, each expressing a different facet of the emotion. For them, love was no mystery but a concrete reality to transform into sustenance. Their tastes varied. Some preferred self-love. Others, the love of a nation. Lust was perhaps the most common preference. A few savored the bond between host and guest. Queens typically craved familial love.

Chrysalis, however, had always been a particularly picky eater with little interest in any of the above. “Almost as sweet as I remember–” She licked her lips. “–but hardly what I meant. Do recall the last words we spoke to each other.”

Oh. Of course. Cadance heaved an exasperated sigh. Best get this over with if I want to get anywhere. Flatly, she bit out, “You were right.”

A curious hum prompted Cadance to, begrudgingly, continue.

“About Sombra. I was wrong to trust him. You were right.”

“Mmm…” They both knew Chrysalis couldn’t actually feed off of humiliation, but that didn’t stop her from purring, “Delicious.”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Cadance muttered.

Chrysalis flew down from her throne. Landing just in front of Cadance, she extended a hoof with an expectant and so very familiar expression. With a sigh, Cadance took some of her own affections for her old friend, mixed them into her magic, and finally solidified the concoction into a pink cookie in the shape of a heart the size of her head. Surprisingly, it worked. Chrysalis eagerly snatched it away from her and took a bite while she pondered why that magic hadn’t fizzled like all the other external magic she’d tried. And come to think of it, Chrysalis had managed to create a portal to teleport to her earlier.

“Hmm, this doesn’t taste like an apology.”

Another sigh escaped Cadance as her train of thought derailed. Chrysalis really intended to drag this out, didn’t she? Cadance set aside her regalia, her every move deliberate, and spoke not as a sovereign but as an old friend who’d wronged another. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to dismiss everything you said as mere jealousy. But even then, I shouldn’t have kicked you out of the palace. I know it doesn’t mean much after everything went wrong, but I honestly didn’t intend to shut you out forever. Forgive me, Lovebug?”

Chrysalis took another contemplative bite of her love cookie. “I know you didn’t come here to apologize.”

“No, I didn’t.” There was no point in denying that. “You hurt me, too, you know.”

After a few more bites to mull everything over, Chrysalis said, “I suppose I have missed eating real food. You won’t contest my hive moving back into the Crystal Empire?”

“Of course not.” Not as a pony or a princess. The empire could use the population increase and the skills that came naturally to changelings. If nothing else, they could corner the market in the burgeoning film industry for the empire. Its economy would really need the boost when it finally returned.

Besides, Cadance could hardly turn them away. There was no better place in the world for changelings to live. The Crystal Heart, which primarily protected the empire from the endless winter of the Frozen North, used the light and love within the empire’s residents as fuel. That power then radiated outward, something the enterprising changeling could feed off of when lacking a more dedicated supply of love.

“Very well then,” Chrysalis began. “I forgive you, Meal Ticket.”

Cadance extended a hoof at a low angle. It hadn’t been so very long for her, but she wondered if Chrysalis remembered. Judging by the roll of her eyes, she did.

“Really? I’m not a nymph anymore.”

In answer, Cadance merely pulled her hoof back a bit and put it out once more.

“Fine.” It was a grudging agreement but an agreement nonetheless.

The pair tapped hooves from top to bottom, their arms extending upward in sync. Both leapt into the air with the intent of flying into a backflip, but Cadance forgot to compensate for being in a magical dead zone. As such, she ended up falling gracelessly onto her back with a heavy thud and a painful crack.

As might be expected, rather than help, Chrysalis laughed her head off. “Alright, that was worth it.”

Cadance groaned as her body fixed itself. Increased density was one of the downsides of being an alicorn. A little fall like that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest when she’d been a pegasus. As she got back to her hooves, she gathered her regalia and said, “I wasn’t going to mention it, but for the record, you were totally jealous of Sombra.”

“Hmph.” No one could fool the Alicorn of Love on such matters, and Chrysalis knew that. Instead, she turned away and, with a wave of her hoof, gestured for Cadance to follow. They left through one of the side entrances to the throne room and soon came upon her private chambers. Once they were comfortable inside, she said, “I assume you’re here about your little family drama.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” But that brought up something Cadance had forgotten to inquire after. “Do you mind if I ask what’s become of your mother?”

Chrysalis very plainly stated, “Sombra.”

An acute sense of guilt settled in Cadance’s chest. None of what he’d done had been her fault, but she certainly hadn’t helped matters. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s of no concern,” Chrysalis said with a wave of a hoof. “It was ages ago, and she never much approved of my taking of a pet.”

It took Cadance a few seconds to puzzle out Chrysalis’s exact meaning. Once she had, she retorted, “Remind me again who fed whom?”

Chrysalis, with the innocence of a nymph, replied, “Is that not the purpose of a pet?”

“You know it’s not.”

“No?” A smirk emerged on Chrysalis’s face. “Do ponies not take pets for love and companionship?” To emphasize the point, she opened her mouth wide for an extra large bite of her love cookie.

Cadance rolled her eyes. “You are as impossible as ever.”

“A good thing, too.” Setting aside the levity, Chrysalis turned serious. “What impossible favor is it that you’ve come here to ask of me?”

Well, if they were to be so frank, Cadance decided she might as well be blunt. “I need your help with Nightmare Moon. She’s a danger to everyone around her and cannot be allowed to carry on unchecked. To say nothing of what must have happened to those living in colder climes, her eternal night alone hurt thousands in Equestria.”

“It was a little chilly in the jungle at the end,” Chrysalis allowed. “But what would you have me do? From what I’ve heard, Equestria is a diarchy again. The young mare you doted on as a filly sits as the Solar Regent. Do you not trust her?”

“Of course I do. Twilight is a little young” – although not as young as Cadance had been upon her own coronation – “but she has all the right skills if permitted to act independently. What do you think is happening behind closed doors?” While Cadance tentatively believed Twilight when she said that Nightmare Moon wasn’t hurting her physically, there were far worse ways to coerce her cooperation.

Rather flippantly, Chrysalis replied, “What always happens behind closed doors.” It wasn’t hard to understand her meaning.

“No. No way.”

“You may be the Alicorn of Love, but Nightmare Moon is the Goddess of the Night. And unless my memory fails me, your Twilight Sparkle lies well within her strike zone.”

“It’s not going to happen.” Luna was one thing, but Nightmare Moon? Nonsense. And Twilight? She’d never once expressed an interest in romance despite Cadance’s best efforts.

Chrysalis looked on knowingly with a hint of pity. “She’ll never stand a chance.”

“You don’t know her. Twilight would never willingly sleep with somepony holding Aunt Celestia captive.”

“Yes,” Chrysalis purred. “The ultimate challenge. That’s what will make it so much sweeter when it happens.”

As she was about to fire back, Cadance paused and picked up on one little keyword Chrysalis rarely used except in relation to her. “Sweeter?” The wheels turned in her head. Chrysalis seemed to have an awfully good understanding of this hypothetical state of Nightmare Moon’s mind. “Hey! You were planning to do that to me, weren’t you?”

Chrysalis, unexpectedly caught out, froze with eyes wide. Then she turned away and mumbled, “Was thinking about it.”

Cadance flung a throw pillow at Chrysalis’s face. It hit dead on with a solid pomf. “Don’t you dare try to shove me into one of your pods.”

“Hmph.”

“Why would you even do that?”

Rather than answer, Chrysalis rose from her seat and walked over to her desk. There, she plucked a calendar from it by hoof. Upon her return, she shoved it in Cadance’s face. “Do you see the date?”

Confused, Cadance said, “Yes, but–”

“You’ve been back for over a decade. You moved on with your life, and I didn’t merit so much as a letter. I was angry. I still am.”

Cadance wilted at the implied accusation. She had moved on. But it took two to tango! “Did you send me one?”

“Why should I have?” Chrysalis replied. The calendar went back to its place in the green glow of her magic. “You made it very clear you didn’t want to talk to me when we last spoke.”

“Right…” Although they’d both exchanged their fair share of heated words back then, with the benefit of hindsight and a lot of distance from the events, Cadance recognized that she’d been the one to take things a step too far. “Again, I’m sorry. At least neither of us turned evil before I got banished?”

Chrysalis fell back into her seat laughing.

“But then perhaps Sombra counts.”

This time Chrysalis gasped and shot fully upright. “It’s true! He’s going to banish you when he comes back. Then it’ll be me being seduced.” She placed a hoof to her head and feigned a swoon, draping herself over the edge of her chair so that her head hung low. “Whatever will I do?”

Cadance rolled her eyes but couldn’t resist a smile. “Knowing you, bed him and then stab him in the back.”

“Heh. Too true.” After a few moments spent just enjoying the mood, Chrysalis rose back upright. “So? You never answered my question. What exactly do you want me to do about Nightmare Moon?”

“That depends entirely on you,” Cadance said. She had her own preferences, but every course of action came with significant risk. Their friendship only got her hoof in the door. Chrysalis did, after all, have her own kingdom now whose needs would come first. “How much are you willing to help with an unbounded amount of love at your disposal?”

Like flipping a switch, Chrysalis’s eyes took on a vacant, glassy appearance at the offer. A bit of drool escaped, and she unconsciously wet her lips in anticipation of the feast. Then she shook herself of her daze. “How fast can you generate love?”

“I have no idea. Very? I’ve never had a need to test my limits.” After a moment to consider the matter, Cadance shrugged. “How fast can you consume love?”

“It depends on how it’s given to me. More concerning is how much I can hold before I burst. You alicorns are built to channel ever greater amounts of power as you age, but I’m not. I might be able to go horn to horn with Twilight Sparkle, but I doubt I could last against either of the sisters on even ground for long. If I were to fight Nightmare Moon, I would have to put her down quickly. And, I assume, you would want it done quietly.”

Cadance nodded. In an ideal world, they would preserve the good reputation Nightmare Moon had built with Equestria for Luna’s benefit. She asked, “Are you willing?”

Although she sank into thought, contemplating the request, it wasn’t long before Chrysalis said, “If it were Celestia, perhaps.”

Cadance’s heart sank.

“She’s grown soft while you were gone, content to build her little pony utopia while the world around her burns.”

That was, however distastefully put, not untrue. Equestria had largely isolated itself over the past millennium and prospered even as its neighbors collapsed. It’d been a massive culture shock when Cadance had needed to explain what a zebra was in conversation.

“But Nightmare Moon?” Chrysalis continued. “If she’s even half as skilled as Luna was, she’ll tear right through me the moment my power begins to flag. You’d have better luck getting Twilight Sparkle to seduce and betray her.”

Cadance facehoofed. “Will you drop that already?”

“Fine. But only because I absolutely love hearing you say ‘you were right’.”

For good measure, Cadance brought a second hoof up so she could massage both sides of her head. “Would you be willing to help me free Aunt Celestia from banishment? I don’t have the prerequisite magical training to do so myself.” Spellcasting had never been her passion despite having learned to enjoy it while foalsitting. “Then maybe the three of us and Twilight could confront Nightmare Moon? Equestria would be grateful.” Needless to say, there was no nation better to have in one’s debt.

“Hmm… Perhaps. Do you know how to break a banishment spell?”

Cadance shook her head. “But I could ask Shining to pull some books from the Canterlot Archives’ Restricted Section and pass the knowledge on to us. Aunt Celestia specifically told me the relevant tomes were hidden in there.”

After mumbling something too quiet to hear, Chrysalis sank deep into thought. When she finished contemplating the pros and cons of Cadance’s proposition, she gave a shallow nod. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Luna’s wrath was legendary long before Nightmare Moon. If I’m going to draw it upon myself, if I’m going to hazard it falling upon my hive, I’ll need something in return commensurate with the danger.”

Cadance hadn’t expected any less and nodded her understanding.

“Make the Crystal Empire into a diarchy and name me your co-ruler.”

Cadance’s breath caught. “That’s…a lot to ask.”

“I could say the same of you. You’re asking me to stand against a legend. In the age of gods and monsters, she and her sister carved out a vast swath of territory for their subjects to live in with relative safety and security. When we study the art of war, we turn to the surviving records of the royal sisters’ campaigns. That is Nightmare Moon. It seems only fair to me. Are you really so attached to a crown you weren’t born to, didn’t expect, and wore for barely a moon?”

“No,” Cadance answered honestly. “But I take the responsibility seriously. Why do you want another crown?”

“I don’t. I want a replacement. If I’m to move my changelings back into the Crystal Empire, I want someone in power acting in their interest. Someone who can’t be thrown out on a whim.”

“Oh. That’s…fair.” The accusation behind the justification, that was, not the deal itself. Cadance needed to think on that.

Full integration would certainly be much less complicated than the alternatives. And despite the whole Nightmare Moon debacle, the diarchy had worked exceedingly well in Equestria for centuries. It only needed the right combination of rulers. Cadance could see herself working with Chrysalis indefinitely even if they got on each other’s nerves at times.

Of course, there would be the eventual matter of succession. Like dragons, Chrysalis was ageless, not unkillable. They could kick that can down the road, but it would need to be addressed someday.

Beyond that, restructuring the Crystal Empire’s government would be a backbreaking labor. In addition to rewriting a large fraction of its legal system, there would be opposition. Who was she, a princess the empire barely knew, to come in and change everything? That could leave a permanent stain on Cadance’s throne, maybe even lead to something much worse than a little unrest.

I wish Aunt Celestia were here to give me advice. Unfortunately, her absence was the entire problem. Cadance could only go with her own thoughts on the matter. In the long run, she liked the idea. It meant less work for her, a stronger empire, and a much reduced chance of another Sombra arising. In the short run, however…

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” Cadance began carefully, “but there are some complicating factors.”

“Yes, yes.” Chrysalis dismissed the concerns with a wave of her hoof. “I’m willing to wait and play politics to ease the transition. We can discuss the details another time. But the core proposal?”

After a few moments to give the matter some final thoughts, Cadance acceded to the deal with a nod. “The Crystal Empire will be a diarchy.”

“Excellent!” Chrysalis hopped out of her seat. Her wings buzzed in excitement and lent a lightness to her step. She gestured for Cadance to follow. “I’ve already issued the command to collect the necessary materials from the Canterlot Archives.” That she did so mentally over her hive’s hivemind went unsaid. Cadance knew how changelings worked.

But sometimes the hivemind worked too quickly. “Actually,” Cadance interrupted, “I can just send a letter and have it arrive in Canterlot within a few minutes. An hour if my delivery dragon has to track down Shining.”

Chrysalis paused momentarily in her stride to ruffle Cadance’s mane with a hoof and an indulgent smile, leaving the latter blinking owlishly after her as she continued on. This had to be revenge for all the times Cadance had done that when she’d been the taller and older one. “Let’s not involve your beau who reports directly to Nightmare Moon, hmm?”

“I…suppose you have a point.” Cadance hurried to catch up.

“Just leave this to the professionals, Meal Ticket. My changelings are unrivaled when it comes to infiltration. They’ll find the information we need. In the meantime, we’ll begin supercharging me. Be warned. Even for you, this will likely be exhausting. And I’ll no doubt end up sick from overeating a few times before I determine my limits.”

Cadance had expected all that. “Do what you must, as will I.”

“I’m glad you said that.”

A new hole in the city’s living rock opened up before the pair to reveal a chamber. Inside, a team of changelings were preparing a green pod. Cadance’s reaction to the sight was immediate.

“No. No way. Not happening. Those things are so gross.”

“And efficient,” Chrysalis added. She grasped Cadance’s wing with her magic and tugged the mare forward. “Come. It’ll be faster and less tiring for both of us this way.”

Cadance, meanwhile, continued her protestations with increasing fervor the closer to the pod Chrysalis pulled her. Sure, it would probably be for the best, but would it really be so bad to just leave Nightmare Moon alone for an extra few days, weeks, or even moons? Surely the world wouldn’t fault her for the perfectly reasonable delay.

Canterlot Castle
Canterlot, Equestria
Second Summer Moon 6, 1 LE

How this had slipped her mind, she had no idea. It should have been obvious. Considering everything she planned to do with all the weight and power that came with the regency, it really should have been at the top of her list of priorities. Well, perhaps a few other things were less important but possessed more urgency. Finding ways to ease the overcrowding in hospitals due to Luna’s theatrics, for example, wasn’t something that could wait. But the principle remained! Somehow this had managed to elude the list entirely.

From her seat in her office – and it felt so weird to have one – Twilight called for her next and last appointment for the day to enter. She did her best to compose herself and pretend that this meeting hadn’t completely blindsided her. She really missed Spike at times like these. No better assistant could be found in Equestria, and managing her own schedule was…not going particularly well. She just had too much to do to keep up with her usual habits. Even when she kept to the bare essentials, she was starting to drop the ball on some things.

The door opened, and the guards admitted an ancient unicorn mare Twilight knew well. With a bit of magic, she nudged out a chair and invited her guest to take it. “Tea?” she offered. It was something Princess Celestia had often done, and she’d picked up the habit over the past few weeks.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

Thus Twilight set about pouring a cup and refilling her own. She mixed in some milk and sugar upon request and passed it off from her magic to her guest’s. They both took their first sip, and Twilight idly made a note to adjust the spell keeping the water hot later. It was off a few degrees from the ideal temperature.

“Isn’t this a stark difference from last time?” Professor Inkwell remarked with a bit of rueful humor. As a senior lecturer at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns – and perhaps the most illustrious of them all – every single class she offered, Twilight had taken. Most considered them old-fashioned these days and the mare herself terribly quirky, but those ponies knew nothing.

“Not as much as you might think,” Twilight replied. “I haven’t had time to study for my job, I have no idea what I’m doing, and I’m convinced I’m one bad decision away from the end of the world.” She imitated one of the fake smiles Princess Celestia put on when she couldn’t manage a real one with enough success for Professor Inkwell to laugh and take everything she’d said as a joke instead of the horrible, horrible truth. “Things have been a bit crazy here. I know you’re here on behalf of the school, but what in particular did you want to speak about with me?”

“The school is in something of a situation. It’s owned and operated by the crown–” Professor Inkwell paused to think and then reworded that. “Crowns, I think. Don’t know how the politics shake out. Regardless, we’ve been getting by, but our headmare is absent and doesn’t look to be returning anytime soon. We decided it would be best for the Solar Regent to weigh in on the matter.”

Twilight heaved a sigh. How do I resolve this? I can’t very well tell them Princess Celestia might return soon…ish lest it get back to Luna. And I can’t tell them to run the school without oversight. An idea occurred. This could be an opportunity. The chance to push for reform and hold the school up as a model of what educational standards in Equestria should be.

Even so, the thought of experimenting on her alma mater left Twilight with a strange feeling of…irreverence? She didn’t know precisely what word to put to it. Not to mention she’d have to absorb yet another one of Princess Celestia’s positions to do so, further diminishing her ever shrinking presence in Equestria. Maybe that was the wrong way to think about it. The school did need a steward, after all. But that didn’t make it any less true.

Tentatively, Twilight asked, “What was the faculty hoping I would do?”

Professor Inkwell shrugged. “We’re divided. Some want to fill the position with somepony of our own choosing. Some think you should pick. Some think you, as the princess’s student, should be her replacement.”

“Define ‘some’.”

“An unspecified amount or number of.” Professor Inkwell, of course, stated that useless definition with a grin.

Twilight changed tactics. “What do you want me to do?”

“I personally think Princess Celestia had no business splitting her attention between you, the school, and the state. Somehow she managed it, but I can’t imagine she had much of a life outside of it.”

It was true that, as far as Twilight knew, Princess Celestia had never really done anything just for the fun of it.

Before Twilight could form a proper answer, the door slammed open. Luna stormed in while the two guards posted at the doors, ponies Twilight had known since foalhood, peeked in after her and offered a pair of apologetic expressions. The door slammed practically in their faces, and Luna immediately set into a rant in Old Ponish, pacing and gesticulating wildly. It was to Twilight’s great misfortune that she understood the language well enough to follow along with the tirade.

Twilight loudly cleared her throat. That managed to get Luna’s attention. Once she had it, she sharply nodded at her guest who really didn’t need a behind the scenes look at the current state of the government.

For what it was worth, Luna had the decency to appear embarrassed. “My apologies for interrupting your audience with Princess Twilight. My day has been…trying.”

“It’s fine, Your Highness,” Professor Inkwell said. “I’ve already accomplished what I need to.” She turned to Twilight and added, “Take some time to think about it. Let us know what you decide once you have.”

“I will, thank you.” After Professor Inkwell had vacated the room, Twilight’s smile fell into a frown. “Couldn’t this have waited until later tonight?”

“Do the tides wait?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Then don’t you have anypony else to complain to?”

“Of course I don’t.” The bitter words were worse for Luna’s present mood. “Our positions are not conducive to making friends. The few I clung to in the end all eventually fell to the ravages of time. There’s only you.”

Hypocritical though it might be for a mare who’d knowingly rejected her destiny as the Princess of Friendship, Twilight found those words immeasurably sad. She at least had her family. Princess Celestia didn’t count, but one possibility came to mind. “What about Cadance?” She was contemporary to Luna.

Luna snorted. “Do you see her here?” The chair across from Twilight lit up with Luna’s magic, grew a little in size, and finally moved for her to better fall onto it. Her mood finally broke once she had. “So did you puzzle out the truth or did she tell you?”

“About Cadance? I figured it out.” The mare herself had only confirmed it and provided a little context, something Luna certainly didn’t need to know.

“Good. That ability to synthesize disparate facts will serve you well.” After a few moments of silence, Luna returned to the subject proper. “Cadance and I didn’t know each other long before Sister’s butterhooves sent her away, but I suppose we were friends after a fashion. Family now, I hear.” Her gaze slowly drifted toward the door. “I’m curious. That mare had what looked like a battle scar over her eye.”

As Professor Inkwell’s story was common knowledge, Twilight felt no qualms in providing it. “Sixty-three years ago, some strange shadow creatures laid siege to Canterlot.”

Luna nodded and confirmed that she was aware of the only Equestrian war of sorts in living memory. It consisted of but a single battle: the Siege of Canterlot. Nopony knew exactly where the shadows had come from, what their goals were, or where the survivors went. Although given that she already knew of that relative footnote in history, perhaps Luna had learned something important from Princess Celestia. Twilight placed that thought aside for later analysis.

“Professor Inkwell fought on the front lines with Princess Celestia despite being a civilian. She’s a national hero with medals and everything. There’s a statue not far from here in Clover Park.”

Luna hummed in interest. “I’ll have to take some time to meet her once things settle down here.”

“She’s a lecturer at my alma mater. You can usually find her there.” Before Luna could question what business Professor Inkwell had with her, Twilight changed the subject. “Anyway, I wasn’t really paying attention earlier. What were you on about?”

“Fie! I met with Ambassador Talon earlier this evening.”

It took Twilight a few moments to recognize the name. “The Griffonstone ambassador, right?”

“Indeed. He had the audacity to demand – not ask for, but demand – compensation for not cycling night and day properly.”

Twilight’s eye widened. “He doesn’t know…” This office was private but not secure. “–about Nightmare Moon, does he?”

“Nay. He was merely under the mistaken impression that I owe the world something. I tend to the moon and sun as a public service, not as a slave. It’s not as though such magics are my exclusive domain. They are no more than magic itself is yours. Somepony else could have at least attempted to fill the role. Sometimes I swear alicorns are the only sentient creatures on this world with even a hint of agency.”

Twilight politely ignored Luna’s slip back into Old Ponish. It seemed to be becoming a trend. Whenever somepony tried her patience too far, Luna would vent at the end of the day in the language more familiar to her.

“So what did you do with him?” Twilight asked.

An amused snort came first in answer. “I offered to release Nightmare Moon and let him have a go of things.”

“Not a taker, I imagine?”

“Remarkably, his old war injuries acted up with such poor timing.”

“He has old war injuries?” Seeing Luna roll her eyes without bothering to reply, Twilight assumed otherwise. “Well, at any rate, I’m done here for tonight. I have a few documents and a book I need to read, but I can do that anywhere.”

“I must begin cleaning the Dream Realm.” Luna looked like she wanted to do anything but. “It’s going to take moons to finish. Still, I should be done with today’s work before dinner.”

“Breakfast,” Twilight corrected.

Having had this pointless yet essential argument before, they both let it go with the knowledge that the other was wrong.

“Same time, same place?”

Twilight nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

A Stray Cloud in the Sky
Canterlot, Equestria
Second Summer Moon 7, 1 LE

Luna was late. Not that it really mattered, Twilight supposed. She had plenty of things that needed doing and could stand to wait a little longer before giving up and eating breakfast alone. But how hard was it to at least send a note? Being tardy was no excuse for being impolite.

Maybe punctuality should have been one of the Elements of Harmony after all. A little chuckle escaped Twilight at the silly thought.

She really could use a break, though. Even for her, Twilight had to admit that Equestria’s tax code made for dull, dense reading. She needed to understand it to do her job – her temporary job, she reminded herself – but it did so little to inspire. More and more often, she found her book discarded in favor of staring up at the stars. The night sky had been so much more alive since Luna reclaimed its care – vibrant, even. The night was a canvas, and its master painter had returned.

And speaking of said master painter, the flapping of wings broke the quiet of the very early morning. As Luna touched down on the cloud, Twilight continued to pick out constellations but asked, “What kept you?”

“Work. The Dream Realm looks as though Discord made it his personal playground in my absence. I’ve created some constructs to help me restore order, but they can only do basic tasks. I’ve already discovered three brilyr that I needed to close myself.”

“Brilyr?” Twilight broke the word into its Old Ponish roots and guessed, “A…reality bridge? World bridge? No…otherworld bridge?”

Luna lay down beside Twilight and said, “As good a translation as any. I haven’t felt the need to update my terminology yet.”

Considering that nopony else ever used the words, Twilight could understand the low priority on that task. It was a shame, really. Dream magic always sounded like a fascinating field of study whenever Luna brought it up. “What exactly is a brilyr?”

Luna didn’t answer the question. Or at least not right away. When Twilight started debating the merits of the laborious task of rolling over to check if she’d fallen asleep, she finally spoke.

“When we were young, my sister and I liked to travel. She preferred to hop dimensions while I enjoyed exploring this endless world we live in. I’ve flown far beyond Equestria’s borders. I’ve named more oceans than most will ever see. I’ve met creatures you’ve likely never even imagined. Yet ponies are the most intrinsically magical species I’ve ever come across. Our very existence is tied into the weave of destiny. It makes us…larger in a sense. Everything we do is magnified.

“Our dreams are no exception. Many monsters are born within our nightmares. Most naturally die off when the dream ends, but not all. Some gain the ability to cross between dreams and grow in strength. When they become too powerful, they can create a brilyr. A bridge of sorts, as you said, between dreams and reality. They tend not to fully collapse when used, which can make it easier for the next monster to escape.”

Luna stopped, and Twilight turned away from her note taking to glance at the mare. That seemed to be her full explanation, but it left her open to questions. “Are there any dream monsters I would recognize?”

“Many. Some from before my time. Others…” Luna’s gaze turned south. Leaning up a little bit, Twilight followed it toward the Everfree Forest. “Hydras. Manticores. Ursa majors. Timberwolves.” She snorted. “According to my sister’s journal, me.”

Ignoring how rude it was to read somepony else’s diary without permission, Twilight asked, “As in a possession or a complete replacement?”

“More…a merger? It’s unclear. It’s also nonsense, of course. Personally, I think she was just inventing excuses for my pain rather than professing any true belief.” At a mutter, Luna added, “Brushed off again.” Then at her normal volume, she asked, “What did you get for dinner today?”

Twilight sat up and unpacked her breakfast basket. She briefly thought of canceling the stasis spell keeping their food warm but thought better of it. This high up, the temperatures were freezing. She might not notice thanks to having her pegasus magic unlocked, but her tongue would. Maybe next time she would bring food meant to be eaten chilled.

“What are these horseshoe shaped creations?”

“Fries,” Twilight replied. “They’re potatoes dipped in hot oil. There’s a dozen other variations on the same basic concept. Tastes vary.”

Luna experimentally popped one into her mouth. “Hmm, I feel this would be better crispy.”

“Then you want either a batter-dipped version or chips. I also picked up hayburgers and soda. None of this is in any way healthy, but after how many whole cakes I’ve witnessed Princess Celestia devour, I’m assuming alicorns don’t have to watch their figures.”

“Sister, you glutton,” Luna mumbled incredulously.

The meal passed peacefully in idle chatter. They spoke of business for a time to keep each other fully informed before drifting to more personal interests. Their discussion eventually wandered onto the stars and then to the constellations. Twilight found herself surprised at how much the stories and myths behind them had changed over a thousand years. Those had always felt like a cultural constant faithfully transcribed from generation to generation down to her.

It was strange how easily this new routine had fallen into place. Twilight found, much to her own surprise, that she actually kind of liked Luna. Maybe because she’d given Cadance her unofficial blessing to dethrone the mare, the guilt of turning away from everything Princess Celestia had wanted for her gnawed at her just a little bit less. Maybe that made it easier for her to think of the Lunar Throne as a gilded cage where Luna waited for judgment while performing community service. Being the Solar Regent, at least, certainly wasn’t fun. Or perhaps it was just the Princess of Friendship in her screaming to get out and trying to see the best in even the worst ponies.

Either way, Twilight had just finished reciting the story of Draco when Luna decided to kill the mood entirely. “Speaking of dragons, you should retrieve yours before I have to charge you with negligence.”

Twilight froze.

“This is actually a good moment to speak to you on the subject of delegation. You are going to wear yourself down if you continue trying to do everything unaided. Take tomorrow off to go recover your assistant. It’s the least you can do for yourself. I’ll cover for you.”

“I…will then.”

Could she even say no? Despite everything, she probably could. Twilight had been working virtually without oversight. Luna, for whatever reason, seemed genuine in letting her act as she saw fit. But then did it even matter? Shining served as Captain of the Royal Guard, and her parents lived a short walk away. There were perfectly good hostages already at hoof.

Perhaps Luna needed Twilight out of the way for something. She didn’t really see why. It wasn’t like she had the time to spy on anypony. Being a princess was a full-time job.

“Don’t overthink things,” Luna said. Twilight’s eyes shot to hers, unable to hide the surprise in them, but she said nothing more on the subject. “I’m curious. I’m aware you hatched Spike, but how did he come to be under your care?”

The explanation started stiffly, but Twilight slowly relaxed as she gave it. “Well, you know I attended Princess Celestia’s school. She put him under my care while I was there but kept official guardianship for herself. At first, I thought it was a huge responsibility she’d given me as part of my studies. It was…hard. Frustrating. I barely slept at times. But I eventually learned that she hadn’t given me a burden. Instead, she gave me a friend. My first friend. I named him Spike when I accepted that. I’d just been calling him ‘the dragon’ up until then. Not really my finest moment, I admit. I’m glad he was too young to remember that.”

“I…see…” Luna nibbled at a fry with furrowed brows. “When did this happen?”

“The summer of nine ninety. Not long after I took my entrance exams. When I graduated from the school, Princess Celestia signed over full custody to me.”

None of that alleviated the strangely disapproving expression developing on Luna’s face. “It’s my understanding you hatched him during your practical exam.”

Twilight nodded. “The test was to hatch his egg. I later learned it was supposed to be impossible, but I had a bit of an…” She faked a cough. “–incident. There was a magical explosion of some sort originating from Cloudsdale. When it passed over me, my magic went berserk.”

“Berserk?” Luna asked. “Glowing eyes? Roiling nexus of raw power?”

“Yes? Why?”

Rather than answering the question, Luna shook her head and gave a little snort of disbelief. “Nevermind, you precocious little late bloomer. So in summary, you hatched him, you named him, and you raised him?”

Twilight nodded.

“And he is your…”

“My number one assistant!”

Luna stared as if she couldn’t believe a word that had just come out of Twilight’s mouth. It came with a hint of anger and the strangest sense of understanding vying for dominance.

“What?”

Horn alight, a teleportation spell building, Luna said, “Go retrieve your son, Twilight Sparkle.”

In a blink, Twilight found herself in the middle of Ponyville. Nopony was out this early in the day, so her arrival went without notice or fanfare. When she recovered from the suddenness of the transition, Twilight blinked. “Son?” How ridiculous. She was way too young to have a foal…right?

Right?

Twilight rose to her hooves and said to nopony, “I’ll, uh, do that? And…fly back to Canterlot?”

No response came.

“Right. Flying back it is, then.”

After a few moments standing in the silence, Twilight realized she had a problem.

“What am I supposed to do until everypony wakes up?”

Another teleport spell built up. Twilight sensed it the instant before it completed and closed her eyes to avoid the flash of light blinding her in the night. Two royal guards, both pegasi, fell to the ground in a loud clatter of armor with the typical lack of grace of inexperienced teleporters. They’d had today’s night shift for watching over her. Twilight gave them a helping hoof back up and floated their weapons back to them.

After a few moments awkwardly shifting in place with nothing to do, Twilight conjured a deck of cards and made a show of shuffling it with needless flair that took up most of her concentration. “Wanna play a game to pass the time until morning?”

The guards exchanged a look and shrugged before agreeing. The three then left to find a public table to commandeer for their use.

Ponyville, Equestria
Second Summer Moon 7, 1 LE

“Your Highness, Princess Luna has a point. Bolt and I don’t know the details of your family dynamic, but I don’t know what other label you could put on it.” Striker played a knave and skipped Twilight’s turn. “We’ve both seen you feed him and change his diapers. Comfort him as he cried.”

Bolt played a six, hardly remarkable. “Were you there for his first steps? His first words?”

Of course she had been! She wouldn’t have missed that for the world. Twilight didn’t reply aloud, but she did nod her head.

“It seems kind of obvious, really,” Striker added as he tossed out a seven. The turn order reversed and thus skipped over Twilight again. “I mean, I get the whole different species thing. Celestia knows I have enough trouble with just a unicorn daughter myself. And there’s your ages. I don’t know what Princess Celestia was thinking with that one. I couldn’t imagine having that kind of responsibility myself as a colt. But you raised him nonetheless.”

Play proceeded in the background with Bolt chiming back in. “How would you feel if his real parents showed up?”

“Biological parents,” Twilight immediately corrected.

Both guards looked up from their cards with raised eyebrows.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” The thought alone made her feel guarded and somewhat territorial. Twilight didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole any further. “Maybe I have some distinctly maternal feelings regarding Spike, but…well, it’s complicated.” She threw her remaining cards into the discard pile when Bolt played his last and won the round. Once Striker’s joined them, she picked up the deck and began shuffling. “I have no idea how to have that conversation with him.”

Rather unhelpfully, Bolt said, “You could just sit down together and have a mature, respectful talk about your feelings.”

Twilight let her head fall onto the table face first and dealt the cards. As if it would be that easy. From the corner of an eye, she watched the sun slowly rise into the sky and wondered what advice Princess Celestia would give her. Probably something maddeningly simple as if explicitly claiming Spike as her foal didn’t terrify her half to death. That wasn’t the kind of thing to just drop on a pony – or dragon – out of nowhere. Maybe she could hint at it for a while and see how he responded to the idea.

The distinctive rhythm of a rapid two-legged gait drawing nearer met Twilight’s ears. As far as she knew, Ponyville only housed a single biped. She safely bottled up all of her weird, conflicted feelings and turned in her seat just in time to scoop Spike up in her arms as he ran to her. She showered him with affection as the two reunited after a moon and a half apart. For his part, he lapped it up even in public without a hint of embarrassment.

“Oh, Spike, I’ve been so lost without you!”

As soon as Twilight finished, Spike added his own piece. “I missed you so much. You were gone, and then you were a princess, and where have you been?”

Twilight managed to tighten her hug and pulled Spike closer. “I’m so sorry. This has all been a disaster, and I’ve been trying to keep you safe, and I’m stupid, and it didn’t even matter in the end, and I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Don’t leave me behind again.”

“Never.”

It took a while before their reunion died down. Twilight conjured a tissue to dry her eyes and clean up her face before ultimately using it to blow her nose. Spike rubbed his own tears away onto her coat before she could see them. Although a futile effort, he tried to pretend that he hadn’t been crying too. She politely chose not to comment.

“Ehem.”

Twilight glanced up and searched for the source of the sound. But a few respectful steps away stood a white coated unicorn mare with an expertly curled violet mane paired with an unusually short tail. “Ah, good morning–” A bit out of sorts from the high emotions, she required a moment to search her memory for a name. “–Rarity.” She reluctantly released Spike from her arms and looked between them. “I take it I have you to thank for looking after Spike for me.”

“It was no trouble at all, darling. He’s been ever so helpful around the boutique. We were just running a few errands this morning, in fact. I’ll be sad to see him go.”

The hint of a question hung in those last words alongside some mild accusation. Despite the extenuating circumstances, Twilight couldn’t fault Rarity for the tone and merely nodded back in answer and acknowledgment of fault where Spike couldn’t see. She should have arranged for somepony to look after him herself despite the risk instead of hoping he would get by on his own.

Rarity accepted the response for what it was and pursued another line of inquiry. “I would have brought him to Canterlot myself, but we weren’t entirely sure what the situation was or if we even had the right Twilight Sparkle. The wings are marvelous, by the way. Are they new, or have you always had them? They are real, aren’t they?”

Once brought up, Spike reach out a hand to touch one. “They feel real.”

Twilight placed a hoof on Spike’s arm and gently but insistently pushed it away. “They’re also very sensitive, and I need a little more time to accustom myself to them.”

“Oh! Sure, Twilight.”

Happy that Spike understood, Twilight turned her attention back to Rarity. “They’re borrowed, technically speaking. My own won’t grow in for a couple years yet by Luna’s estimation. Apparently, I’m a ‘late bloomer’.”

“So you’re really an alicorn?” Spike asked with some cautious glee.

“Mhm.” Twilight rubbed Spike’s head fins fondly and whispered to him, “You’re stuck with me forever.”

Very succinctly, the ageless dragon said, “Awesome!” and curled himself around Twilight’s leg for another hug. She had a feeling they were both going to be rather clingy with each other for at least a few days.

“Your Highness–” Rarity began only for Twilight to cut her off.

“Oh, please no. I get enough of that already. You ran into the Everfree with me and looked after Spike in my absence. I think we’re long past formalities, Rarity.”

That seemed to have two very distinctly different effects upon the mare. Rarity looked at once both thrilled to be on familiar terms with royalty and relieved to drop the formality. “As you wish, darling,” she said. “But that’s actually what I wanted to ask about. What happened at the castle after we left you to your work? By the time we thought to check up on you, you’d already vanished. We even searched the surrounding forest for you.”

If anypony deserved to know the truth, it was the five mares who’d escorted Twilight to the Old Castle. It only seemed fair. It’d have to be revealed in private, of course, not around a public table in the middle of Ponyville with two guards at her back who’d spread the word like wildfire. It’d be nice to have somepony she could talk to about everything. She’d certainly desperately needed her brief time with Cadance.

But there were reasons she lied to everypony including her own family. Thus Twilight spun the same sanitized story she sold to anypony who knew enough to ask for details. “Nightmare Moon showed up and stole the Elements from me. Luna appeared just after she teleported away. I had a head start on tracking her, and when I explained who I was, Luna took me with her. We were kind of in a hurry to chase after Nightmare Moon. In the rush, I, well, forgot you five were there until the next day. Sorry about that. I’m known to have a bit of a one-track mind at times.”

“It’s true,” Spike unhelpfully added. “There’s this one time when she–”

Twilight cast a silencing spell on Spike and continued on with one less embarrassing story told in her presence. “Anyway, when we went back, you were already gone. You all made it out okay, though, right?”

“In the end,” Rarity said dramatically, “but the journey was simply dreadful. It seems it’s much easier to get to the castle than to leave it. I can’t tell you how many times we got lost or ran into some horrible monster. Ugh, and all that time without the basic necessities! Simply dreadful, darling, as I said. One would be forgiven for thinking we were swamp ponies by the time we escaped.”

Twilight offered up a sympathetic smile. It did sound miserable. How lucky she was that Luna had guided them to the castle and taken her away rather than leaving her to walk back to civilization.

“I know it doesn’t make up for abandoning you all in the Everfree, but when I get back to Canterlot, I’ll nominate you five for the Pink Heart.” It was Equestria’s highest medal of honor and, in hindsight, a well deserved reward for five civilians who’d gotten in way over their heads simply by doing what was right. Rarity certainly looked delighted at the prospect, so the idea would likely go over well with the others. “If there’s anything else I can do, just let me know.”

“Nonsense. We were happy to help.”

“Even so,” Twilight insisted. Fighting back a yawn, she got to her hooves and motioned to her guards that it was time to leave. “Anyway, I need to fly back to Canterlot. If you would spread the word for me?”

“Of course.”

Twilight levitated Spike up onto her back. He settled into place as though they’d never been separated, filling a longing in her she’d not truly noticed until now. She’d missed his familiar weight upon her back more than she’d thought. After warning him to hold on tight, she leapt into the air with a heavy beat of her wings. Her guards followed behind her, watching her back and protecting her flank.

Spike’s cries of delight were a balm to the soul. This would, in all likelihood, become relatively commonplace in the future, so it was good he enjoyed it. On the way out of Ponyville, Twilight noticed a stage being erected in the town square. A little scrying spell for a better look didn’t reveal its purpose, but she did notice a cutie mark on display that she recognized from her schooldays.

I wonder what Trixie is doing here.

Author's Note

Thanks go out to Reese for prereading this chapter.

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