Between Midnight and Dawn
Between Midnight and Dawn
‘Twilight – when we stand on the edge of everything.’
-Unknown – supposedly of Griffon origin.
One girl wore a silver pendant and the other a golden pendant. The two girls had received those gifts from their parents. They wore them religiously, never letting either pendant leave their being. One day, the two girls were playing; one of them lost hers. She cried. The other told her everything would be fine, she promised to find it, and then everything will be fine. She trusted her, abating her crying. Eventually, the pendant was found, and things returned to how they were. A few days later, it would be the second one’s turn to lose her own. The other girl spent the entire day trying to find it. And she eventually did.
Time passed; the two girls stayed together. One day, one of the girls lost her pendant – for it to never be found. The other girl offered her a new one. Similar, almost a perfect copy to her old pendant. But it was different. It wasn’t the same, but she took the new pendant and loved it.
The other girl lost her own almost immediately afterward. Another gift. Another seed was planted.
It was centuries ago. One was Celestia, and the other was Luna; the two girls were sisters.
****
Two girls sat next to each other – one with rainbow-colored hair and the other tainted with the glimmer of midnight. It had been a while since their abilities became fully manifest. The two girls were sisters. The two girls were Alicorns – unique creatures amalgamating all features of their kind, and beings of impossible powers.
One raises the Sun at dawn and the other the Moon at dusk. It had been a long while since both girls uncovered their powers, and equally long since they ascended to the throne of Equestria. Longer than anyone could remember.
It was early before dawn on that mid-spring. Soon the Sun would be needed to be raised.
‘It will be time soon,’ Celestia told her half-awakened sibling as she rested her head on Celestia’s shoulder, holding Luna so she does not fall into a wrong position.
In those early days, it had become a sort of habit for the eldest to wake up the youngest. Not that Celestia needed Luna to perform her talent, but her sister’s presence alone made it more enjoyable. It felt less like a chore and more like an intimate moment between sisters before the distractions of the day.
‘How was your night?’ asked Celestia after a few moments, keeping a low voice.
Luna opened her eyes and lifted her head, not presenting Celestia with an answer. Because of lingering fatigue or any different affliction related to her nightly toil; either way, Celestia had disappointedly expected that response. Luna had used to readily answer her in the beginning days, but she went silent as the years passed by. At first, the answers turned brief, though still descriptive enough for Celestia to make an image out of them. Then they shifted into short, throw-away words that could be considered useless. To finally end up in her more recent state of purposefully maintained silence.
Celestia waited for Luna to get a sense of her surroundings. Her younger sister was frowning and sported a grim expression; she did not care to lift her eyes toward her sister or the still risen Moon, dimly illuminating the room – not even a customary glance. Celestia asked her if she was feeling well – to at least have the start of a conversation. Luna did not deign to grant her a straight reply, only a slight nod of the head and nothing more ostentatious. And Celestia, in turn, shelved the question for some later point when things would be more aligned for an answer.
‘How long?’ said Luna at last with a frown.
Celestia slightly smiled. ‘A few minutes. What are your errands for the day? Can you tell me?’
Luna frowned more. ‘I don’t remember at the moment,’ she muttered, wanting the conversation to end here and then.
Always brief and consign in her replies. Never straying further than what the question required of her.
Celestia nudged her. Luna let a smile etch itself on her face but did not persist as her sister spoke again. ‘Someday that callous attitude of yours will come back to bite you.’
‘We are not pressed by time,’ she whispered.
‘But those we rule over are.’
‘They always have the same issues. Always,’ she lamented in her morning voice.
‘And it is our role to provide for them.’
She grunted in approval as she closed her eyes for one quick rest. She mumbled something imperceptible to Celestia, but the older sister did not ask what Luna intended by it. In truth, she had an inkling of what awaited Luna during the day – if not everything. And it wasn’t very much. Celestia had taken it upon herself to divert the tougher tasks away from her sister in a bid to ease her troubles at night. And every time she glanced at Luna’s exhausted visage, she knew her sister would prefer a rest than managing a realm of Equestria’s size or answer the more material demands of the diverse interest groups. She preferred to keep Luna out of their bickering. While in many ways decentralized, the central authority of the Sisters was paramount when it came to resolving internal issues. Stretching from one ocean to another, and from the cold north to the harsh jungles of the south, Equestria was and remained in later years the largest, most populous, and most prosperous nation known to that world. A quasi-homogeneous populace living in peace under the eternal rule of the Sisters, keeping stability and unity through their own prowess and dedication to the task. In governing, there would always be someone, somewhere, for whatever reason, who would require a mediator. Petty or truly life-changing problems that either way needed to be resolved. If not, they would only fester. And one thing Celestia was adamant about was to prevent Equestria from ending up on the long list of fallen empires and civilizations that had already been extensive. They made this promise decades, if not centuries ago.
Equestria must survive.
Celestia did not doubt her sister’s abilities in managing these issues, but someone had to govern the Realm of Dreams – and she alone had the ability to do so.
Luna used to tell her of the nightmares she extinguished, of the things she was forced to undertake to appease minds and quell envies down the line. Celestia knew her sister did not relish some parts of her task. How much? She never asked; better to keep the things of the night where they belong than to remind Luna of them.
Luna had her secrets, and Celestia knew not to press them too much out of her. However, her curiosity would sometimes take hold, automatically pursuing an answer. She could not help herself. There was a thrill for discoveries in her that she found difficult to extinguish. Of all her duties, the diplomatic part of Celestia’s work gave her the most pleasure for this reason alone. The arrival of dignitaries and other foreign representatives – even those living in farther provinces of their realm – would, on their own, make her day. Luna would join her if she was available. Both had garnered quite a collection of artifacts and unique trinkets throughout the years. Celestia appreciated the gesture, but behind closed doors, when they would be on their own, she offered them to Luna. It was her passion, after all. And Celestia was pleased to help Luna enrich her frankly impressive collection. Lately, however, the excitement of receiving anything of this sort was replaced with a dour acceptance of them. They would be arranged still but lacked the passion that had once characterized her collection. Celestia took the time for it and left the research and more detailed cataloging for Luna, though she seldom received any thanks for it.
‘We have an audience at ten,’ said Celestia. ‘In the garden, though – not the throne room. Felt like things needed to be shifted this time around,’ she almost giggled. ‘What do you think?’
Luna cleared her throat. ‘I remember, now. It’s a great idea. Thank you.’
Celestia smiled. ‘You’re welcome, Luna.’
The castle and its surroundings were in grand parts left for Luna to design and mold as she saw fit. Compared to her, Celestia lacked the creative mind for art. Luna was also entrusted with the protection of the more sensitive artifacts they confiscated or more forcibly acquired from those that once dared to threaten the peace.
Because of the castle’s old design, it was mostly left as it had been and as further changes to its structure would have rendered it too feeble. They once thought it to be beautiful but now looked more like an intricate pile of rocks than the residence of those that raise the astral bodies. Even minor nobility had built for themselves better abodes – with suspicious amounts of funds Celestia knew full well the origins of. So, Luna distracted herself with the garden. It was not the minutely crafted appearance of later designs nor the fake aesthetic they exuded. She instead let nature grow freely, with minor interventions to keep nature orderly and pleasing to the eyes. At Celestia’s request, a small emplacement was reserved for ceremonies and other similar events, parts that blended seamlessly with the trees and bushes of their surroundings. Rare star-shaped white flowers with narrow petals had been imported and let to grow on ornate marble pillars. That orchid cactus is a night-blooming cactus that possess heavily, almost sweet, scented flowers when it would bloom once a year. Lavenders also circumvented the tiled floor, compensating for the flowers’ once-a-year scent. And it is said to calm the dreams of the castle’s inhabitants during the night.
Celestia thought about moving back to their old residence, renovating it with more modern techniques and artistic styles. A new seat of power deserving of their status. It was the right thing to do. Luna had not objected to the proposal and laid the initial plans for the project on her own. Celestia would have liked to be present when Luna designed her plans, but there were always distractions. At times, so much she would be distracted, she would forget having seen Luna’s previous design and improvement to the plans.
At day’s end, before Luna’s time to raise the Moon, and if Celestia still had the energy for it, she would retell her little sister everything that had occurred during the day, even seek advice if she found herself doubting her intuition. Celestia would force herself to have that energy when she felt it fleeting, but biology has its way to shut off the mind completely when sleep starts beckoning. A simple rest of the head on a cushion or any remotely comfortable pose, and you find yourself sleeping without knowing when or how it happened afterwards. They would have lunch for any sort of intimacy, but it would sometimes be mired with current issues than the reminiscence of the two girls. Or one of them would be away even, resolving whatever for whomever. Leaving the other alone
They once had friends, though. They did once. Like all of us. The Sisters had friends to play a kind of surrogate role for each other; to share the bad and the ugly, the good and the beautiful. They outlived them. Simple as that; they outlived everyone. All those they ever knew when young were gone. All those they befriended afterward; were gone too. But it was the way of things. Life has a cycle inviolate. Their cycle are similar in a way. Which aspect does each allude to, though? Neither wanted to know.
The door knocked, propelling Luna into sudden wakefulness. It was unusual for such an hour, but Celestia had grown accustomed to surprises like these. She tapped Luna’s back, easing her surprise, and called for whoever desired to seek them out at this time of day.
A mage entered, bowing as he moved inside Luna’s chamber. They both had not been wearing their crowns. For even to those who were habituated to dwell around them, it was rare – if outright impossible – to observe them without those jewels on their heads. It was tradition, after all. It needed to be upheld. Some had been born, grew up, worked in the castle, married, had kids, grew old, and died, all while under the same, unchanging rulers in form and practice. None ever complained and it had not occurred to them how stringent they were at following traditions established since… the Sisters were not sure themselves. Those things have always been.
Celestia turned toward the mage – he was still young, almost similar to them. Yet the shy marks of an aging body started to show themselves; the signs of worn and missing hair betrayed him quite clearly. Celestia wondered how it must feel. She fathomed it must not be pleasant to have your body slowly fail you. To have your senses gradually dull out over time as you lose all that you once were. A horrible sensation – yet something within her was calling out for it. She wanted to experience it – to truly know how it must feel.
Not pleasant. Stop it! Celestia aggressively put down the thought.
She had countless times the chance to ask but squandered every single one of these as they passed into their final goodnight. She wondered how Luna felt about it. Her sister also never shared if she would aid the dying in their last slumber. Maybe provide them with their final wish. Celestia wanted to ask, but the question stayed in her mind-prison. The answer seemed obvious to her. Why ask when it is obvious?
He spoke in an embarrassed and frightened tone, of which Celestia assured him no wrong was taken. But he knew full well he was in breach of traditions. Punishments were lightly delivered and never to the extent as would other nations take them. Even if far from the more liberal regime of the later years, the Equestrian regime of that era was still a better place than others to live and thrive in. Their subjects can attest.
The mage told them, but it felt addressed toward Celestia, of an emerging threat in the north. The details of such a threat were yet to be known or fully understood. But something was brewing up there.
Celestia smiled. ‘That’s alright. Things of this sort happen – right? Do not concern yourself too much with it at the moment. Gather the pertinent information and then come back to us with them for the time being. I think you are overreacting a tad bit.’
Her words reassured the mage, but Luna heard the mechanic feel behind every one of them. They were tantamount to fake. Yet, she trusted her sister’s words too. She could not understand why, but she did. It felt wrong. Why had her sister taken such a tone? Luna had to know. Words coalesced in her mind, congregating and congealing into sentences, congesting with others. She opened her mouth and spoke.
‘You are right.’
Luna nodded to the mage. He added that sets of urgent missives had arrived during the night, some requesting her attention elsewhere from here. Celestia did not ask about the nature of those demands at the moment. She ordered him away and asked to close the door.
Celestia stared back outside, letting the cool morning air caress her skin. She passively sighed, taking in the light sound of wind whistling between the tree branches and of the roosters awakening in the distant farms, amalgamating with the songs of awakened birds.
‘The forest looks…’ she hesitated; something akin to disgust carved into her expression with the subtle precisions of great sculptures. ‘It looks… as it has always been.’
‘How?’
‘D- Mundane.’
‘Used to be quite a sight in the past. A scenic view.’ Luna jadedly smiled. ‘Right?’
‘No.’
Her horn glowed, and the Sun rose over Equestria. For the next hours, their subject would bask under its comforting light and go on with their errands until nightfall.
Celestia got up, heading off to the start of her own assuredly grueling day. Another one amongst the numerous she had to trudge through.
‘See you later, Luna,’ Celestia neutrally said.
‘See you soon also, sister.’ She cringed.
‘You have the thing at ten.’ She paused. ‘Should I close the door?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
An approval nod and Celestia was gone. No shared breakfast that day – again. And perhaps for the entire week that would follow.
Again.
After a few minutes of pointless imaginings and enjoying the silence of her room, Luna got up toward her library. Removing the protective spell, she took out the book she had been postponing its end for a while now. Luna had left aside only one chapter, and today she would be done with it. Looking at its cover, it was a simple book. Not ornate or especially written for her. There were, of course, those in her collection, but they were awful books for the most part, only written by sycophants to earn her patronage and favor. She hated them. All of them. There were many writers far more talented than those pretenders – and Luna endorsed those. They were delighted to know that one of the Princesses had taken notice of their writing – and they were satisfied with it. For the most part, they did not ask more than for her to keep a copy and preserve it in their name. She accepted their decision, adding with it a substantial monetary donation.
That particular book had been lying on her shelves for a while. She did not recall when it had been gifted to her. Luna looked at the author’s name.
“Rim Secret.”
She shrugged away the name, not remembering who that person had been. Luna looked at the portrait above the name. Nothing.
They all start to look the same.
She then looked at the date of birth. He was dead; a century and a half had passed. She had promised to give the writer of every book she collected a detailed opinion on their talents. She wondered how many she left hanging. She did not want to finish the book anymore, but someone had to – for remembrance. For his legacy.
Luna gently sat back on her bed, letting the creaking sound of wood make itself apparent. She opened the tome. It took her eyes a while before they adjusted to the writing. Whoever the scribe was for this one, their work had met the bare minimum of what the standard she demanded. It had its charms, nonetheless. It was an old form of the current script, she recalled, but it still held up. Even still, it was inadmissible to present such a thing toward her. Maybe haunting their descendants for this slight would be rightful vindication; could be amusing… She found herself smiling at the thought. She shook it out of her head.
After a quick sight and a gulp of cold water, Luna began her reading.
She finished the first page, not understanding what she had been reading. A thought was plaguing her concentration. Luna rested the book on her torso and looked to the outside, taking in a few minutes of quiet only now polluted by the birds’ music and the training guards faintly shouting in the distance. The book trim can be ruined, but she did not care – things can be replaced.
‘It used to… once.’ The word tasted bitter. ‘You used to enjoy things.’
Her head began to lightly hurt. She ignored it, wanting to finish that damn book.
****
‘The entire country exists but simultaneously doesn’t. It has influence, and we trade with it, yet it feels distant. I once met Celestia – a charming ruler, and everything written lends credence to this. However, something did feel amiss at the start of our interaction. I do not know if it is paranoia influencing what I experienced back then, but something was off about her. She sounded fake – almost like hiding her exhaustion. Of course, I did not raise such concerns in front of her; I was and still am in no position to assess how such a creature might live her impressive life. Maybe it was arrogance I felt emitting out of her – or I am just transposing myself onto her. I will never know – not do I care to know. I have no doubt she could easily smite me if it would come to it. […] It is perhaps the greatest irony of Equestria that while they claim Harmony, they are one of the most disunited societies on this Earth. Only kept together by the single will of Celestia. It would not take great labor for a well-placed punch to see the entire structure crumble. And I dread that day when it will come.’
-King Guto I.
