Between Darkness and the Dream
Snow crunched beneath Luna’s hooves. The earth ponies set up barricades against the ice and wind first, then cleared snow from their own camp. Only on particularly generous days did they deign to clear it for the others, and then they grumbled about doing “servants’ work.” Luna didn’t blame them – pegasi and unicorns called it the same, and chided the earth ponies for shirking duty to their ‘betters.’
But of course, pegasi worked hard keeping the wind at bay, and unicorns tirelessly shielded them all from the windigos. Neither had time to cook or prepare camp; now if only they’d stop being fools about it. Somehow the pegasi didn’t always keep the knife-like wind from the tents of others, and the unicorns saw to their own protection first. And, more often than not, they slept in snow while earth ponies made clever burrows and fire pits.
Such was the great pony caravan, the hope of three races and their last chance to find new lands before frost and windigos claimed them all.
Luna was dressed for the weather: heavy linens and wool, and thank stars the sheep were content. She was a unicorn so the other tribes did not like her, and low-born so neither did her own. Blue-bloods and sycophants to the end. Yet while none claimed to be her friend, neither would anyone admit to call her foe. Being the sister of their leader granted Luna tolerance, if not authority.
No one quite knew what to call Celestia – ‘Allpony’ and ‘Alicorn’ were bandied around. The pony chosen by fate to be given wings and strength in addition to her horn, taking the powers of each race and the sun. A goddess of heat and union, made kindly by her one-time poverty, and some thought she would bring peace between the ponies. Instead the queens and commanders had shoved her about like a chess piece, leaving her used and tricked and almost assassinated more than once.
It was almost a mercy when the snow grew too strong even for her. Schemes froze to a halt; windigos routed the pillaging earth pony armies, and drove the pegasi from their cloud homes. Fine unicorn palaces were buried in snow, and all finally fell to their knees before Celestia, begging her to save them.
Amusing, to recall Queen Platinum bowing to Celestia the pauper, the grave-digger, the orphan. But Luna did not smile. Platinum bowed to her sister still, but sneered to Luna when they were alone, and spoke of the other races like disobedient children. Hurricane and Puddinghead were little different. Ponykind would be just as divided in the Warmlands as they were back home.
...If, of course, they ever made it.
A large pavilion tent sat between the three camps – Celestia disdained even the slightest hint of favoritism. Luna noted the earth ponies had been very conscientious about clearing the area around, and pegasi kept at bay the endless wind that whipped their rivals’ camps.
No guards. Luna had urged Celestia to get some, but she refused.
Entering showed her sister had arrived early for once, now speaking pleasantly with a young, buttery pegasus. One of the smarter of his kind, who had long traded metal armor for wool.
He managed a polite smile to Luna, and Celestia nudged him with her wing. “Thank you, Pansy. Please give your commander my compliments.”
Luna swore, but could never prove, that Commander Hurricane sent that first assassin after them. She glowered as Pansy left, drawing a flinch from him and sigh from Celestia.
“Be nice,” she chided. The mask fell away at once. Regal, pleasant Celestia drooped her head, wincing as a thousand sore muscles made their protest. She slept on hard ground and wool, just like the rest, and ate the same thin gruel. Her calm smile turned utterly flat.
Her face was a little rosier than before. Luna stepped in close. “Hold still.”
Blue nose pushed to white forehead. Luna scowled. “You have a fever, sister.”
The corners of the flat mouth twitched upwards. “I think it’s from all this time keeping the sun as close as I can.”
Luna snorted. “I think it’s from bad food and sleep. I saw you wake up last night and go with Clover. You never came back. For what? Queen Platinum whining about the cold again?”
Celestia slumped onto the wool sheets that served as their bed. Luna pressed, her lips peeling back from gritted teeth. “Again? Did you tell her we’re all cold?”
“Platinum doesn’t think of others.” Celestia rested her face in her hooves.
“Get guards, sister,” Luna said sternly. “You need sleep.”
“I need to keep things together.” Celestia moved her forehooves out, steadying her body as her head drooped lower. “The unicorns cling to Platinum. If I offend her she might split off and get us all killed. Hearing out her complaints is a small price to pay.”
They could argue on it further. Again. No point.
“Lie down,” Luna instructed. It was a bad sign that Celestia obeyed without complaint. Much as she loved Luna’s back rubs, even those were often shunned for being an indulgence most did not have.
Celestia settled on their blanket, letting out a slight whimper as her store muscles stretched. Luna hunched in and got to work, rubbing them out in slow, warming motions.
Even now, Celestia did not fully rest. “What news, Luna?”
“The earth ponies didn’t clear snow for the others again.” Luna kept massaging as she spoke. If Celestia fell asleep, so much the better. “It’s not bad enough to really disrupt things, but it is noticed. A few pegasi grumble about ditching us to claim the Warmlands for themselves. Hurricane will hear none of it, although they mutter that he’s getting soft. The unicorns unite against the others and backstab among themselves, same as ever. I think Clover’s getting fed up with Platinum, and she’s not alone. As for the earth ponies, a bad wind nearly blew out their stove fires and they think the pegasi did it on purpose. They’re planning to stint the rations for all but themselves and you tomorrow as payback.”
Celestia squawked, tensing under Luna’s hooves. “We’re in an endless snow! The pegasi can’t keep every gust at bay.”
“I know,” Luna sighed.
“Did you tell them?”
“They don’t listen to me,” Luna said quietly. Then, “You know they don’t listen to me.”
“Well, they should.”
Luna silently cursed as Celestia stood, groaning as her worn legs once more brought up her weight. “I need to nip this ration nonsense now. I’ll have a talk with the pegasi too, in case that really was on purpose.”
She paused a second, and the rest followed inevitably. “I should check in with Clover as well. Platinum is contemptible, but I can’t have ponies fighting each other. Not now. Thank you, Luna, you’re a great help.”
Luna neighed from an unhappy place in the back of her throat. “All I’ve done is give you more work, and it’s just the usual pettiness. It all will likely work itself out.”
“And if it doesn’t, the caravan falls apart and dies.” Celestia gave her a very tired smile. “I have to see to it. No one else can.”
Luna nodded sullenly, though Celestia paused on her way out the door.
“Can you...” the godly sister hesitated. She disliked asking favors. “Can you give me good dreams? I would like something pleasant. Something warm.”
Love and sympathy brought a knot to Luna’s throat. She swallowed it down, eyes moist. “Of course, sister.”
“Thank you. I find my favorite time is when I am asleep.” Celestia nodded and went on her way. As soon as the tent door opened, her head was erect, and her placid smile in its place.
Luna’s cutie mark did not come until her middle teens. Night after night, Celestia had screamed with imagined terrors dredged from her hard and violent youth. Luna recalled little of that time, but pieced enough to know Celestia did many painful things to keep food in their orphan bellies. Perhaps things she was not proud of. Luna heard the screams, prayed to every god and devil for the power to bring her sister peace… and was answered.
The Dreamlands appeared to her sleeping eyes as a shifting black fog, pressed so thickly around her she felt cramped despite the lack of anything to touch. Her teacher said it was everywhere creatures slept, and nowhere they did not. Location had no proper meaning in this malleable place, and even the fog was in truth merely her eyes’ best attempt to translate what was here. Ponies drifted ethereal and unconscious through this fog as their bodies slept, encased in faint bubbles of thought and dream.
None of it had a name – not the bubbles, the fog, or her teacher. Even ‘Dreamlands’ was the word Luna invented for it.
Travel was easy. Luna merely had to will herself to Celestia’s dreams, and there she would be. All she needed was for her sister to fall asleep.
Hours ticked by, with no Celestia. Luna was still waiting when her teacher came.
It had no form. Nothing here did. A shape in the darkness, a glimpse of a pony seemingly made from the surroundings, the black fog. It came to her when she first saw this place, taught her to shape and bend the dreams to her will.
The voice was pressed and dry, with a strange buzzing quality Luna imagined an insect might have if given speech. “Early again?”
“No. She is late.” Frustration came out in Luna’s words. “This is becoming the norm.”
Her teacher seemed to tilt its head. “Much weight is placed upon her.”
“It always was,” Luna said. She shuddered. “You recall that first nightmare? We found my sister in a graveyard burying one body after another, and they all wore my face.”
“You turned them to dust, and embraced her.”
Luna nodded, glaring to the shadows around. “Gravedigging was her first job, or at least the first I can remember. We were orphans, and she was the eldest. She raised me as best she could, and worked to exhaustion for every penny she could earn. Now she works herself to exhaustion stopping ponykind from ripping itself apart. She’s the Allpony now, the Alicorn. Some say she will not age. Is this her destiny, then? Endless toil from infancy, ever and anon?”
“She has you to help her.” Her teacher’s voice remained hollow and alien, such that the kindly words set Luna’s teeth on edge. “You are special. You soothe her dreams; none else can do that.”
“It isn’t enough,” Luna said, but allowed a faint shift in the currents to end the conversation. Her sister now slept, and one step brought them together.
Celestia’s mind turned unconsciously in its bubble, and Luna gave a tiny smile. It had taken months to bring peace to her sister’s dreams, to gently adjust their course away from graveyards and death. Luna sculpted the bubble as her teacher taught and cutie mark allowed, filling it with grass and warmth. Peace and silence. Celestia became groggily aware in the space, feeling little save her own comfort. Luna could sharpen the dream and step forth… but no. Let her sister be untroubled here, if nowhere else.
Luna stared as Celestia slept contentedly on the grass. The warmth tickled her nose.
She turned away.
Her teacher was there, waiting as she returned to the fog. “Rest with her.”
“I rest enough each camp as the tribes hound her with demands.” Luna growled the words, yelled them. Even cried a little. “She… she said her favorite time is when asleep! Is that not hell, to be so oppressed by the waking world?”
“You do what you can,” the buzzing voice said.
Luna’s jaw snapped shut. Her words turned to steel. “But not all I can.”
That brought a silence between them. Her teacher perhaps knew where this was going, and did not approve.
It mattered not. “Take me to the Light.”
“No.”
Something like emotion entered her teacher’s voice. There was anger. Perhaps fear.
“Do it,” Luna said. She did now kowtow – not to Platinum or Celestia, not to this nameless thing.
“I should never have shown it to you.” Her teacher spoke faster than its normal, measured pace.
Luna shrugged, not dissuaded in the least. “It gives light and form to these lands, such as they are. I see no trouble.”
“Then why do you seek it?”
Luna remained stern, too proud to lie. “It has power. A bit of it, is all I ask. Let me use it to help Celestia.”
Faster still, the voice replied. “You grasp for things you do not understand.”
“So does my sister,” Luna replied coolly. “The Sun is strange, unknowable. She tells me it is alive, yet all who live harness a fragment of its might. Let me do the same with this.”
Silence fell – an impasse. Luna stared back to her teacher, tall and unblinking, her every doubt subsumed by the thought of Celestia’s bowed head and tired eyes.
The shadowy form seemed to nod once. “I will comply. But first you will swear never to seek it again.”
“Done,” Luna said.
“Even if you find the power to your liking?” Her teacher pressed.
“Without condition.” Luna began striding through the fog. “Lead on. The night wanes.”
The Dreamlands were a realm of shadows. And shadows could not live without light.
Luna walked – more symbol than real, following the flickering motion of her teacher. Like the first and last time she had come, her hooves hit what felt like stone, making a hard clip-clop as she moved forwards. The only solid touch in all the Dreamlands, like this was a fixed point in a realm otherwise devoid of compass.
Luna slowed her pace. There was some instinct, some feeling to the Light that told her she was drawing close. Her nostrils flared, her heart raced with foalish excitement that had long deserted her waking life.
And there it was – a small, simple thing. Platinum would scoff, but she was a fool. It was an orb, perhaps four hoofs across, floating above a stone pillar that stretched only up to Luna’s chest. Its color was a deep, starry night, yet it glowed like the sun, bathing her in strange dim radiance.
Her horn tingled, electric. Rushing water filled her ears, and tension pumped through her veins. This was magic – a relic – a thing of incredible power, perhaps the strongest in this world or her own. Her knees trembled, bidding her bow and look away. Her eyes remained fixed, gazing to the endless midnight. It seemed deep, somehow. Neither liquid nor solid, but an endless space of stars within.
Something glowed at her teacher’s head. A deep blue not unlike her coat, and Luna pondered that she had never seen the thing use magic before. It plucked a single star from the orb – one single star, out of countless millions – and drew it out.
Luna tensed, having to quell the bitter surge in her heart. The tiny dole seemed… stingy. Almost cruel. How much could it really do? She watched impassively as her teacher raised the star like a grain of sand over her face, and let it fall where the horn met the head. A lone drop, and nothing more.
“I hope this helps,” her teacher said.
Luna glowered. “As do I.”
Luna awoke with no feeling of hunger or chill, or any of the usual aches from their poor bedding. Health and energy coursed through her – her head was high, her trod heavy with power as she began making their breakfast. A curious urge to whistle came, though she resisted. Celestia was still asleep.
So it was until a messenger arrived, bidding Celestia’s attention to some scouts’ return. Luna reluctantly allowed her to be woken, though sternly informed the messenger Celestia must eat before seeing them.
And he listened!
The snow was not cold beneath Luna’s hooves as she left their tent. It felt a shame they were not moving out today, with the caravan instead halted to regroup and plot its course. She moved among the camps relentlessly, first putting a good example by helping the grumbling earth ponies finish clearing the snow. Then she went to the pegasi and yelled down a few inevitable fools who boasted of flying ahead. Then to the unicorns, where she gave orders and directions while the seething Platinum looked on. She was brash, blunt, confident – and more, a certain quality to her presence that made ponies listen. She solved a dozen minor issues out of hoof, never feeling the need to slow or eat.
And if she was unfriendly, or a bit of a bully, then perhaps these ponies deserved it. Although she did not think she ever was.
Celestia sat down with Luna to take dinner. It had been so long since the last time that happened. And they both slept all that night, curled together in their humble bed.
Luna was cold and groggy when she woke the next day. But it wasn’t so bad. And she couldn’t quite keep up her pace from before, and a few whiners got through to pry Celestia away from her dinner. Luna collapsed to their blankets at the end of things, exhausted. But at least Celestia bed down at the same time, undisturbed at moon-rise for the second day in a row.
For a few hours.
Celestia slept deeply. Luna did not, and so her ears rose at the sound of their canvas door being pulled aside.
Luna stood without greeting, sliding perfectly from Celestia’s grasp. She lit a small glow in her horn and turned to find herself towering over a short, freckled earth pony with a knit hat and odd scent of apples.
Smart Cookie, one of the heroes who discovered the Warmlands alongside Pansy and Clover. A much-needed organizer and advocate for harmony in the tribes. A welcome sight, usually.
Small favors, she spoke at a whisper. “Hi, Luna. Y’all know why I’m here.”
“No I don’t,” Luna whispered harshly. “Why are you here?”
“To get Allpony Celestia.” Perhaps sensing a battle, Smart Cookie said it with a sigh.
Luna pressed. “Yes, but why?”
Smart Cookie gave a shrug. “Luna, I’m tired and I don’t want to say it twice.”
“Let me guess, based on the last six times,” Luna said with a low snarl. “Will the poor industrious earth ponies freeze to death unless Celestia uses her magic to warm a few burrows? And will Chancellor Puddinghead be so loud with her gratitude as to make sure the whole camp knows?”
Another shrug. “You ain’t wrong. We done?”
“Yes,” Luna sniffed. “Go away.”
“Luna...”
Luna let a growl flee her throat. “Fine, I’ll come tell the chancellor myself.”
“You know that ain’t how it works,” Smart Cookie said, stoic and not unsympathetic. “If you were an earth pony, Puddinghead would outrank you and you wouldn’t get a say. But you’re not, you’re a unicorn, so you definitely don’t get a say. Now are you gonna let me wake her, or is there gonna be a fight tomorrow about how some gatekeeping unicorn is controlling access to the Allpony?”
“She’s not just the Allpony, you, you...” Luna caught ‘ignorant mudblood’ before it left her mouth. “She’s my sister!”
“Nobody cares.”
Luna looked sharply, though the image of Smart Cookie suddenly blurred. Luna wiped her eyes to find a flinching, regretful look on the pony’s face.
“Sorry,” Smart Cookie said. “I’m… sorry, alright? I know it ain’t supposed to be this way. But it is.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Luna insisted. “She should put her hoof down. Crack eggs, as the pegasi say.”
Smart Cookie gave a tight shake of the head. “Y’all ain’t thinking clear. Look at us, we barely put up with each other as-is. Most earth ponies don’t even like Puddinghead anymore, and she’s the one telling us to work with the others. But your sister? They like her; heck, they love her. Most folks don’t trust the other tribes farther than they can throw ‘em, but they trust Celestia to do what’s best for all. She starts cracking eggs and she ain’t gonna be seen as the loving shepherd no more. She’ll be another damn queen, another chancellor, and this caravan will fly apart faster than you can say windigo. Trusting that she’s too good for all that is most of what holds us together.”
A last shrug. “Faith. Faith or die, I guess. But I’m still tired. So are you gonna let me get her, or is there gonna be a fight?”
Luna let her go. Then watched Celestia depart, not to return that night.
Luna woke up cold and sore the next morning. Ponies laughed or cursed when she tried to give orders, and none of them listened. She ran dinner to Celestia in the pegasi camp as she calmly talked down would-be rebels. Passing by the unicorns on her way home, Luna heard jilted whispers that the featherbrains invited ‘their’ Alicorn over for dinner.
She wanted to correct them. Didn’t bother to try.
The dark fog surrounded Luna. It slid across her hooves as though caught in some serpentine current. The Dreamlands has a way of reflecting her mood, and she paced through it with agitation. She saw the faint bubbles of strangers’ dreams, saw them darken to nightmares as she passed. Perhaps her doing. She cared not.
The shadowed outline of a pony ended her pace. She snapped, “I know my promise. Don’t remind me.”
“Come,” her teacher said, and walked away into the darkness.
Luna followed. She held her tongue, letting minutes or hours pass in silence. Yet her teacher offered no more, and so Luna finally asked.
“Where are we going?”
“To the Light,” it buzzed. “That which you think you desire.”
“Not all of it,” Luna said. Her pace unconsciously sped. Her words came fast, heart twitching with strange hope. “Just enough to help Celestia a little more. Is that unreasonable?”
Luna fancied she saw the shadowed form arch its nose. “Not even the right question. You should know better.”
“Fine,” Luna growled. “Why are you taking me there?”
Impatience leaked into her teacher’s voice. “Still wrong. But: another touch, I think, shall cure you of this greed.”
Luna wanted to correct it. ‘Greed’ played no part in her desire. Yet she also thrilled with anticipation of a second anointing, and so obediently tried again. “What is the Light?”
“Better. Closer.” Luna’s hooves touched stone as her teacher spoke. “You forget where you are. You body sleeps, your legs walk. Nothingness surrounds you, yet you shape it into dreams you can taste and touch. You lie down here with your sister – in those times are you her dream, or are you Luna?”
A pause. Luna puzzled at the clues, yet her teacher carried on. “It blurs. Your land is one of separation and distinctions, and that is not so in this place. The darkness, the Light, all part of a whole. As were you in that very short time you touched, though bare enough that you did not understand what that means. You see power without cost or purpose, like a buried treasure. This will be now rectified.”
Luna gave a huff. The subtle warnings had not slowed her, though her contrarian nature rose to the fore. “Am I a schoolgirl to be slapped for making noise?”
Her teacher gave a huff of its own, or at least a buzzing attempt. “You may turn around if you like.”
“No. We see this through.” Luna felt electricity on her horn, and came once more to the Light. She beheld the starry midnight, the infinity of stars twinkling brilliantly to the surrounding fog.
She stared. Could not look away, and did not wish to. It was beautiful, magnificent.
The command came. “Hold you hoof to it.”
Luna did not hesitate or ask. She strode forwards, letting her gaze fall into its nigh-endless depths. Each star a gem of power, and countless million of them within…
Still, instinct and her teacher’s warnings gave Luna caution. She raised her hoof, hesitating for just one second before laying it gingerly upon the very edge of the sphere.
Power. Strength. At once she felt taller, her horn sparkling with blue radiance fit to grasp the Moon itself. Ethereal winds seized her mane, and her eyes glowed silver like the stars.
She raised her head, and by the light of those stars she at last saw the Dreamlands. The truth of the all-encompassing smoke and fog.
She saw eyes. Teeth. A riot of creatures and flesh, loping, slithering, flapping, grasping, staring covetously to the sleeping ponies in their midst. Some stood like parodies, others squelched wetly as they tumbled over each other without form or reason. Some were beautiful things of terrible attraction that murdered each other with crab-like claws, others capered and brawled, bat-winged demons with gargoyle mouths. Every nightmare the world had ever known laid bare before her, stretching without space endlessly above and below.
Luna tried to look away, and failed. Each instant brought new evils to sight, chasing her mind ever further into horrified shock.
She rallied, and with a cry ripped her hoof from the Light. She fell away onto merciful stone, frantically trying to blink away the glow in her eyes.
Behind, her teacher spoke in the muffled buzz which only now Luna realized emerged from many mouths. “It all blurs, here. The Light is the dark. And the dark is the Nightmare.”
Luna looked before her mind could shout its warning. She beheld her teacher, uncloaked by comforting dark, and awoke that very instant screaming and tearing at her bed.
No one heard. Celestia had been called away.
They broke camp that morning. A blessing – each move south was met with studious, efficient work from even the loudest grumblers. All knew the unicorns must fend off windigos and clear snow so the heavy sleds pulled by earth ponies could make time, and the pegasi must keep the worst winds from both. Celestia worked tirelessly at whatever task was needed, and so the caravan moved with unity oft alien to the pony tribes.
Luna cleared snow, and collapsed each night in her sister’s hooves. Exhausted, but they all were, and so the grumblers were mute. Celestia even managed to burn a hole through the endless gray, letting the sun shine for the first time since their journey began. Ponies gave a hoarse cheer and redoubled their efforts with the knowledge that each day brought them closer to the Warmlands.
They… still had a ways to go. But they were getting there.
Such brought its own problems.
Two weeks’ travel brought them to the next campsite. Crises followed immediately – pegasi hotheads boasted of flying south and claiming the Warmlands for their tribe. More of them than ever. Celestia’s stunt had backfired.
Commander Hurricane did his best. Luna gave him that. A tyrant and warlord, but a soldier’s good sense. So did Pansy, once idolized for finding the Warmlands and now blamed for not seizing it. They did not listen to either.
But they listened to Celestia. She spent that first night in their camp, when others were allowed to collapse from the hard march. She met with ringleaders and individuals, hearing their boasts and fears, giving rebuttal and comfort, talking them down gently from their suicide.
Luna went with her at first, and was sneered out. They would not hear a unicorn.
Celestia stayed with the pegasi through the next day, and the next. Long enough for cracks to show elsewhere. Platinum and Puddinghead at least kept basic order in camp and even put their heads together, though bickered and undermined each other at every turn. They bemoaned Celestia’s absence and agreed she should have a second-in-command, each nominating themselves and trying to make it so.
Luna tried to give orders of her own. They laughed, of course, and lectured her. “Surely, the great Alicorn would never stoop to nepotism.”
So it was that Celestia emerged from the pegasi camp on the fourth evening, and immediately was beset on all sides. Her direction, her leadership, her authority. Comfort and affirmation to the sensitive and surly alike, coaxing them with kindly patience towards the greater good. All though that night, and the next day.
It was nearly a week before she saw the inside of their tent. Celestia trod serenely inside, closed the flap, and would have fallen utterly to the ground had Luna not been there to catch her.
Celestia – the orphan, the refugee, the gravedigger – trembled in Luna’s grasp, mumbling without sense and weeping. Luna carried her to their bed and tucked her in, as Celestia had done for her so many times before. She fed the elder sister a hot, salty soup. Celestia accepted it, though broke down into anxious trembling halfway though and spilled the bowl, then clamped her lips against any more.
Luna got into bed, spooning her sister from the other side and whispering kind nothings until Celestia fell to a nervous, trembling sleep.
Dark fog had returned to the Dreamlands. A comfort, knowing what it hid, but a hollow one. Only now did Luna grasp the nature of its movement – the slithering at her hooves, the claustrophobic press, the claw of insubstantial vapors at her face and neck.
“The Nightmare,” her teacher had said. Luna shuddered, but her face remained stone. She reached a hoof, letting the darkness play over it.
Yet… for all their horror, what were they but nightmares? As passing and insubstantial as a bad dream. Surely this was so, for she stood awash in them and remained unharmed.
“The Light is the dark. The dark is the Nightmare.”
Luna pawed where the horn met her head. Where one single star had been made hers.
A noise. She woke.
She saw Private Pansy, reaching his head nervously through their door.
Luna stood.
He flinched back, letting Luna meet him at the doorway. Luna kept walking and Pansy backpedaled, letting himself be herded a dozen steps from their tent.
Pansy was a pushover, a doormat. Luna might have smiled in anticipation were she not in a quiet, searing rage.
She skipped the pleasantries. “No.”
“We need her,” Pansy mumbled.
“You had her for almost four days right when we were trying to lay camp.” Luna growled, her horn lowering.
“But Hurricane said–”
Blue magic glowed and cuffed him hard across the snout. Pansy fell, more from cringing acquiescence than the blow itself. Luna snorted and used that same magic to haul him roughly to his hooves.
“She has nothing more to give you idiots,” Luna said darkly, letting the glow linger at her horn. “Do you want her to tuck you in? Warm the bed, kiss you and say everything’s going to be fine? Enough with this nonsense.”
“You can’tmmph!”
Magic clamped down hard on Pansy’s lips. Cruel and wrong, but Luna didn’t care. “Get lost, featherbrain.”
Luna shoved him hard and released the magic. Pansy scampered into the snowy dark, and Luna permitted herself a bitter smile before returning to her sister and bed.
Eight pegasi fled that night, including some of their best scouts. A fight had broken out, Celestia’s wisdom was forgotten, and they flew away into the storm. Two more were lost to cold and windigos before Commander Hurricane called off the chase.
Shouted arguments woke Celestia before dawn. She put on her smile and left without breakfast.
Luna did not follow. Hated herself for it. She could not face them, could do nothing to help.
She listened. The leaders bickered, blamed each other. She heard Hurricane say the pegasi felt cooped, trapped low as they were by the endless winds. He warned more mutinies might follow, earning mixed pleas and threats from the others.
But they listened to Celestia.
Luna took a walk as evening fell. Unicorns grumbled that it was a pegasi conspiracy to abandon them, only held in line by Celestia. Earth ponies plotted vaguely of burrowing until the winter passed, though agreed to stay with the caravan for Celestia’s sake. Pegasi mourned their lost kin, yet murmured wistfully that they might have beaten the winds and escaped south. Perhaps they should follow… but no, that would betray Celestia, and honor forbid it.
She saw Pansy crying into Clover’s shoulder, with Smart Cookie hugging him from behind. Luna stayed away, unseen by them, by everyone. No one spoke to her. No one cared.
Celestia came back to the tent hours after Luna did. Her dry, sallow eyes wordlessly met Luna’s. She took her soup in one long drink, yet remained standing.
Luna settled to their blankets and invited her sister to follow just as the tent flap opened.
Chancellor Puddinghead. Strange of her to come, even more so for her to appear humble and hesitant.
“G...Great Allpony?”
Celestia looked to Luna, and the agonized farce of a smile that ripped its way onto her face broke Luna’s heart. With strength nopony should ever need, Celestia turned to greet Puddinghead, and strode out into the cold.
Dreamlands. Black fog. Nightmares.
Luna cut through it all. Hours or years she walked, and the fog parted before her. The clear air seemed to turn now and then as though guiding her onward.
Emotionless words buzzed from the dark. “You made a promise.”
Luna stared straight as she walked. “I rescind it.”
Something like fear entered the voice. “You’ve seen the truth of us. Not all are as benign as I, and you would bring the Light, bring us, home with you?”
Visions loomed in the darkness – a tide of covetous nightmares unleashed on the caravan. Luna saw them drag Celestia to her doom, then spread to consume the whole world.
She did not slow. Not even as she passed through the vision, trodding wetly upon her sister’s blood. “No. It shall be a part of me. My power, my magic, to be used as I command. The door between our worlds shall remain shut.”
“Says who?” her teacher sneered. “An angry little thief?”
Luna’s hooves found a hard floor. Not much further now. Light shined in the distance, though she stopped and raised her horn. “Damn you, you said yourself I was special! I alone can walk between dreams. Who is to say this isn’t my destiny, to finally, finally share Celestia’s burden? To be the Moon to her Sun, to stand as her equal?”
Her sharp eyes at last found her teacher, a shadowed pony-shape within slithering fog. Luna faced it squarely, horn alight. “And how do I know you aren’t a trickster, seeking to rob me of this? Is it not plain that my coming is welcome? The nightmares themselves have given way and guided me here.”
“Of course they welcome you, fool.” Her teacher spat the words. It retreated into the fog, fading from sight and – slowly – from sound. “But enough. If you do not trust me then there is nothing more I can say. I only hope your love for precious Celestia never dims.”
Poor last words. Thoughts of Celestia crowded Luna’s mind – her exhausted smile, her wordless weeping. Luna pressed on towards the Light, more certain now than ever. This, all of this, was for her sister. What greater love could there be?
The fog around her lowered to ankle height, as though kneeling. Three strange steps brought the Light from far to near, now in horn’s reach. A vast depth of space, an infinity of stars, no larger than a fishbowl. Her eyes reflected the light, then glowed as she seized the orb with her hooves. Luna raised it high and tilted her head back, letting the stars run down, drops becoming a river of silver pouring into her mouth, her nose, spilling messily down her cheeks and neck. She drank it, breathed it, saw wild vistas of glory and power.
And she saw the ocean of nightmares around her, who bowed very deeply as they laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
She woke alone, of course. But the spark was there. The energy, the power. She was up before she knew it, and out the door before a minute passed.
No Celestia in sight. Luna turned her head this way and that, finding ponies staring dumbly back at her. She groaned and began walking through the camp, barely noticing them leap out of her way, indifferent to their inane mumbles. She had to find Celestia, had to…
Luna slowed, blinking, wondering. Ponies retreated from her in mixed fear and reverence, their heads lowered, their eyes wide. None drew close enough to touch, yet as Luna turned she found those she passed had followed. She saw Princess Platinum kneeling towards her, and Smart Cookie as dumbstruck as her peers.
Then came Celestia, taller than the rest and not so feared by the crowd. She picked her way through, looking on with confusion.
“Sister?” Celestia asked softly, coming to Luna’s side. “Are you...”
Luna shrugged, and great blue wings flared out as she did so. She swallowed her own gasp, staring at them for just one second before forcing herself into calm. With so many eyes on her, the coming moments would decide much.
A slow, measured flap of the wings let her test them. Celestia’s had emerged in agony, sprouting from her back in a bloody second birth. These… no pain, no blood. They felt too light – like a paper illusion, a costume of an Allpony. But they would do.
Luna brushed aside her mane, starry and flowing, and spoke in a deep voice not wholly her own. “Ponies – rejoice! A new Alicorn walks among you.”
She swallowed hard. Looked upwards. “Last night the Moon spoke to me and wept, heartbroken by the tireless agony of her brother Sun’s chosen pony. She gave me her powers that I might stand by my sister, now and ever forwards, and lead the tribes to our new home!”
Platinum cheered, catching Luna with a smile that desperately pretended they were friends. Applause rippled outwards, growing halfhearted and hesitant as it left her crowd of sycophants. Ponies glanced to each other, and mothers held tightly to their foals.
Celestia yet stared to her, and Luna could not quite meet the eyes. Instead she stepped in for a nuzzle, which Celestia returned.
The brief contact wasn’t enough. Luna turned it into a hug, pressing her neck to Celestia’s, rubbing it upwards to tickle each other with their coarse hairs.
“Things are about to get better,” Luna murmured in her ear. “The burden is no longer all yours.”
“Your wings seem to have come easily,” Celestia teased, unknowingly chilling Luna’s heart. “I am glad, yet I long to hear the whole story.”
Luna hesitated, then dodged. “We still have the day’s work ahead of us. Let us gather come dinner, and I will tell you everything.”
With a last few words of whispered love, they parted. Luna watched her sister leave, attracting a gaggle of children and admirers on the way. Celestia talked to them, smiled. Even gave Private Pansy a quick nuzzle that sent him blushing to his ears.
Ponies came when Luna beckoned – subservient, obedient. Platinum followed her directions without any comment of nepotism. Even Smart Cookie seemed more afraid than anything, drawing a snort from Luna.
“Damn, Cookie! It’s still me.”
“Sorry.” Smart Cookie pulled her hat down over her mouth, close enough to touch and trembling at the knees. “I know that. But danged if my body ain’t screaming at me to run, like you’re a wolf or something.”
She gave a worthless laugh. “I’ll get over it, I’m sure.”
Luna let her go.
“The Light is the dark.”
She looked to her hoof.
The dark is the Nightmare.”
Blue and hard. Exactly what it was supposed to be. She was a pony with wings, an Alicorn. Chosen by the Moon, cloaked in power…
She set down the hoof. Work to do.
The day passed. Whereas her sister brought hope to the ponies, Luna brought discipline, and not a little fear. Snow was cleared, wind dispersed, and scouts finally dispatched to plot their next route forwards. Perhaps they grumbled in secret – no matter. They should be grateful for all Luna had done.
They… should be. Something twisted inside when she saw Celestia among them, laughing while foals played at her hooves.
Luna buried those thoughts deep where they belong. They sat together for dinner, yet joy turned sour when Celestia pressed for the story of her ascension. Luna spun a tale of mystic moonlight and love, silently damning every attentive question as the evening dragged from one lie to the next. Luna feigned exhaustion to bring them to bed early, though laid quietly staring at her hooves until blackness stole them away.
The Dreamlands were darker than ever on her return. Not even the illusion of fog remained, just utter black twinkled with ethereal colors of sleeping ponies.
Things had not gone perfectly; nothing ever did. The ponies did not love her like her sister; one day they would. Precious time with Celestia had been marred with needful lies, but tomorrow was another day.
And tonight, in this strange land… she was queen. Even the nightmares had bowed before her.
She laughed, and in a fit of manic glee used her magic to draw a throne from the surrounding darkness. She shaped it, the utter master of this realm, with three tall steps cased in velvet to a glittering chair of starlight silver. Icons of the crescent moon sprouted from its head, with banners of purple and sea green trailing to each side.
Luna climbed atop it, nose to the air. Platinum herself never had a throne so grand. She sat, and found it to her liking.
A sound emerged. A breathy chuckle from a cruel and feminine voice, somewhere in the darkness.
...Yes. The nightmares had bowed. But they also laughed.
Luna growled, imperious atop her throne. Let them laugh! They were banished in darkness, gazing to a world they would never touch. She had the power.
Yet a queer sense of humiliation flamed her cheeks, with the barest inkling of fear. She covered her eyes, resting them in an upturned hoof, and so remained for the rest of that night and countless to come. Brooding, seething, fixated on questions which had no answer until the night at last came when the darkness spoke again, and claimed her as its own.
Such is another story, for another night.
Author's Note
“There are many ways, my son,
To find where the souls of demons remain.
But it takes only one second of despair and of doubt
Until at last, your soul they will gain.
Inherit these lands, these things, these dreams.
They are yours forever to adore.
For there is no life in the depths of chaos, my son,
For you to explore.”
-From The Infinite by Dargaard
