Luna waits.
The visual acuity of an eagle peers out from behind her plate-sized eyes, piecing together her world with perfect clarity. Below her, a long line of ponies slowly file their way into the courtyard, filling the air with all different kinds of utterances. Beside her, Tia is leaning against the railing, a radiant smile on her face with her gaze cast out over the crowd. Behind her, a row of guards stand stalwartly, each of them holding their heads high with the picturesque visages of stolidity adorning their faces.
But her attention is on something else. Six friends, sitting behind a small barrier, wave candidly at her, with bright smiles on their faces. Luna mirrors their expressions and returns their wave. She had gotten many of the same far away greetings from other various subjects, though those are more akin to platitudes, done simply out of courtesy rather than any legitimate feelings of excitement. But Luna doesn’t care; a wave is a wave, a greeting is a greeting. She returns them all just the same.
“Are you ready, Sister?”
Luna looks to her side and captures her sister once again in a happy gaze, for she feels happy. But she also feels heavy, like something could go wrong. That is never good but she ignores it. It is her time.
“We are as ready as we’ll ever be.” Luna steps up to the ledge in front of her, eyes whipped to the sky like a moth to a flame. She traces the faint outlines of the stars and the supple curvature of the moon. She has been waiting for the moment for over a thousand years, both figuratively and literally. It is finally her time to raise the moon again.
A feeling unfelt for a millenia washes over her again: the proud burn of desire to do one's calling like no other could. Like a forest fire, it washes over her, and soon, her whole body is tingling in anticipation. Everything has been prepared and all she has to do is wait for Celestia to deliver her speech.
“Good evening, fillies and gentlecolts. We are gathered here together, at the last hour of day for a special occasion.” Celestia’s voice rings out over the atrium, perking the ears of every single pony in attendance. Her voice will undoubtedly be broadcast all over Equestria in a matter of days. Everypony will hear about it. But that is her sister’s job. Luna’s is to make sure that everypony sees it. To make that happen, she will prepare her bond early while Celestia addresses the crowd.
“Tonight is a special night. I have already reintroduced you to my sister, Princess Luna. As you all know, similar to how my jurisdiction is of the day, her’s is that of the night.”
Luna searches for her connection, her mind stretching out like a rubber band to converse with the moon and stars that lay forever away. Their language is one of who’s and whom’s, yes’s and no’s. “Who are you,” the stars ask, and in response, she says, “We are the one that kept thee a millennia ago. Thou wouldst raise at our call and descend at our wish.” It is not the answer they are looking for, apparently, as they do not respond, much to her frustration.
“For over a thousand years, I have stood in place for her, raising her stars and her moon. Now that she is back, it is time for her to resume her duties as Princess of the Night.”
She continues this game of cat and mouse for what feels like forever. “You are not our keeper,” they say before fading back into obscurity, leaving her to grasp around randomly in search of them. “Who is thy keeper, then?”
“Normally, I would have kept this an inside affair, but she wanted to share the beauty of the night with all of you.”
So, she turns to the other astronomical body under her command. “Who are you.” the moon asks, when she reaches out to it. She responds, “We are Luna, keeper of the moon and stars.” If the moon could scoff, that is what it did. “You are not our keeper.”
Who is thy keeper then!
“So, I will turn the time over to her and let her work her magic.”
Frustration begins to build in her. Was it this hard the first time she had done this? She thinks not. She is the Princess of the Night. This is her duty, her domain. Who are the stars to not answer her call?
Where art thou, thou damnable creations? Answer us! But the moon and stars care little for her building wrath, constantly and annoyingly evading her every attempt at establishing communication. She cannot even begin to understand why.
It takes several moments before she realizes that all the eyes in the courtyard are on her. But she is not ready - the connection has not been found. She clears her throat and steps forward, her eyes once again on the stars.
She will not be made a fool in front of her ponies by her own creations.
“Naughty creations, cast away thy rebelliousness! Answer the call of the night!”
Her horn shines bright, almost as bright as the stars and moon it calls upon. Her eyes turn white, the retinas being temporarily replaced by a wall of scrying magic, each slate fixed on the sky imperiously. She rises into the sky with several flaps of her wings, coming closer still to the burning lights and the crescent moon which hang lazily above her. When she almost arrives within their grasp, she stops, her wings flapping silently, keeping her in place. Her eyes close and she waits for her creations to respond to her.
She waits.
And waits.
“No.”
Her breaths hitches, and her horn and eyes return to their normal looks. Then, as if the stars themselves smite her down, her soul tears itself asunder.
Luna screams.
Author's Note
Pet project, working on present tense writing.
