Dawn of Midnight

‘Though possessing two eyes, most creatures can see but a single thing at a time.’

-Rjoth Greze Hjert, a very perceptive canine.

The family exited their house, with them all the tools and supplies needed for the labor ahead. The few following days would be long and tiresome. Already the summer season had proven exceptionally dry, and with the threat of an upcoming early winter like latter years, they had no time to spend idling. Though the harvest in and upon itself would not occupy them much relatively. The subsequent organization of reserves and verify the house’s ability to retain heat would be occupy them during the autumn and the late summer season. Then, the wood had to be gathered for heat; shopped, dragged, dried on the still predominant Sun offered by Celestia, put in the back, and stored in a way as to preserve the wood pieces from the elements. If by mistake water would to reach them, the entire household would later emerge in spring smelling like cinder and bad cases of respiratory issues for the elderly, or simply forced to endure the winter on minimal reserves.

Those that would not harvest the crops, with the aid of the children and free family members, would begin preparing the harvest under the rooftop or the oak tree in the middle of the field common in that region of north-west Equestria.

The chicken coop also required some repairs and needed to be repopulated with a new batch; the last had proven unfruitful to provide chicks; had killed three chickens and one young rooster for whatever instinctive reason, and others had been isolated by the group and left to roam outside the cage, ripe for the plucking by some wandering predators. Golden Field, the patriarch, hoped to sell those still alive. And in addition to the profits of the crops, they could close the expenses they were sure to incur on house repairs and other necessities. Doremy could have solicited the aid of her brother carpenter and wannabe-mage mother to repair the few faults, but their own problems with the beginning signs of termite infestation and the unset of rot had made them have no time for others’ concerns.

The village’s mage was called, but he lacked the proper spells and training to remove the insects, and only had managed to stymie the infestation. For better or for worse, the family was also preparing to welcome others into their walls. One thing that kept them going was the faint possibility that this winter would possibly be less harsh than previous year. Not all things were done still; clothes needed to be sawn or bought from the local market; tools need to be taken to the local smith; and the additional preparation for a new child to see life were under way too.

Again, all at a cost.

For those reasons, the family had to take full advantage of the Harvest Moon to finish their work on time or fear on losing out on the remaining good season.

In all cultures and across centuries, the Harvest Moon was an awaited moment for the farmers. Not for the leisure its brighter nights offered, but for the tremendous workload they were to undertake was of great portance for them. While they were not be the sole days work was undertaken in, the Harvest Moon permitted them to quicken it. In turn, more easily prepare for the upcoming brutal months to come. Already, the summer months in and of themselves were tiresome; the work of August and September constantly kept a ball in the stomach of many farmers for their challenges. They had done their job all their lives, but even known and expected events were hard to constantly prepare for or adapt to the, at times, scorching conditions they were forced to contend with.

The elderly were the most excited about the Harvest Moon; sitting around and yelling for longer periods at the young ones about how to properly collect the yield sure is different than actually working in the field.

For the family’s luck, their lord was not of a demanding type and would get volunteers from the towns to assist the farmers, if they so requested. Taxes were high, however, the highest in the west of Equestria but few would openly complain much about it. Princess Celestia had forced a cap that displeased the nobility, and for others in less lucky places, life wasn’t, as much as it could be said, idyllic. Knowing that, the family and others of their ilk, were grateful for the efforts put in reducing their plight and strides to improve their living.

During the Harvest Moon, it was said that a figure, its shape and voice unknown but for its soothing blue eyes, would come to visit and provide assistance to pleading and needy farmers and villagers. Abruptly, in one night, all domestic problems would be resolved; left behind crops would be trimmed and arranged neatly for picking and selling, blunted tools would be repaired and sharpened, and for the next week those very tools’ cut would feel cleaner and their handling easier.

They said it was the fabled Princess Luna, Celestia’s sister, who would arrive and bestow a portion of her magic onto them. Others would claim it was Celestia herself and not that elusive Luna; she would come during the night when all sleep to provide them with her talents while fending off the terrors and monsters that lay in the darkness.

Very few are those that had ever witnessed or observed the Alicorn Sisters, least among are those that have even peered an eye upon Luna. In drawings, they were both depicted of similar height and eye coloration, though their main color was different enough to distinguish them. For centuries, it had been the only manner they were allowed to be depicted in, and for centuries the artists followed the rules diligently. The Princesses had not asked for a change, then no change would be brought,

While worship of the Alicorns was frowned upon and admonished by authorities, there was a clearer more noticeable fervor toward the younger, mysterious sister. Where Celestia would appear more regularly in front of the masses, she would be followed by a great display of princely glory and the regalia few to none would ever witness again in their mortal lives. She would speak; her words, all would listen to. Enamoring and retaining them all as if the words of the divine. Yet, it was reported that no particular awe was sensed by the observers; that her presence lacked the expectations laid upon it. There was still that sense that she could be trusted, respected, and even befriended; she chatted and shared short talks with her subjects from all strata of life; but not the awe-inspiring presence people vested in her.

It was, for the lack of a better word, almost disappointing.

And for Luna? They could not tell; she had less than seldom appeared in public or at festivals. Some had begun to question if she had ever existed to begin with. That Moon Princess had been nothing but a myth passed down through the centuries. Stories retold again and again by passing generations until the realities laden behind those myth would be rendered to the realm of suppositions Some said that she and Celestia had a falling out at some point, and in retaliation, Luna was the one sending nightmares and beasts to attack them in the night. That she was the one bringing about random attacks on trade routes and delayed provisions. That she was nothing but a monster herself.

But for most, like those families most worried about what directly lay ahead, to those families that life does not permit them to entertain such thoughts, those suppositions were nothing.

All the families that relied on the Moon’s pattern for harvest or menial work cared not what others had to say; their own worries passed first.

For those that life had not bless to live under the sunlight, obliged by biology, geography, or circumstance to bath in the moonlight, the night was a boon like none other. They knew of its hidden dangers, but for those forced to track the deserts upon kilometers and kilometers, the night was their true companion. Though those groups were rare and seldom united.

****

Golden Field wished for it all to finally end. A couple of hours had passed, and now the Sun had begun to set place for the Moon. His wife was pregnant, and while work at this time was paramount, he did not want her to ruin her health. Their daughter, the only unicorn of his family, hastened their work considerably, but even she had to recharge from time to time and could not repair their blunt tool, nor could they afford the services of a mage-metallurgist. Their son had overworked himself to compensate in the past few days to compensate, and in the early afternoon, he had to stop working or else.

Sometimes, he wondered why he had settled on only two children for a while. All had three or four by the least, but he had let Doremy decide when she was ready for a new one. Golden Field did not mind at first, but when he had decided to invest in that patch of land with a stream skirting its edges, loaned to him by their lord and use it for his own profit in return for an annual rent that would be due at month’s end, having children was more of a necessity to adequately repay that substantial debt. And, perhaps, not make his son inherit it. They were blessed by not losing their first two children, though a third was never chanced upon.

In the next few days, the announcement of this year’s taxes would come. For their great luck, taxes could be paid in installments – unlike his predecessor, their lord embodied what Celestia espoused and made their lives as comfortable as it might be. Though, for Golden Field and his folk, the full advantages and rewards of his rule was less felt than the town folks. Or even those living in the center and east – or so they had heard.

Now, when their oldest was in the age of founding his own family, Doremy and Golden Field luck in the field thrusted upon them one last child. In addition to worrying about his wife’s health, he had to supervise his son’s escapades. Their daughter could wait; he was not ready to let go of her and her fledgling unicorn powers.

‘Are you Golden Field?’ asked a voice Golden Field did not recognize in the distance.

The light grew stallion turned toward the voice’s holder. The figure stood directly behind the setting Sun, hiding its features completely underneath its golden light. He could not fixate on the figure for long, nor did he have the time to spend idling at some stranger.

‘Yes?’ he answered. ‘Who are you? I don’t recognize the voice.’

The figure moved forth, showing a mare, but keeping a fair distance from the farmers. She wasn’t exactly stunning, nor did she have a memorable physique. Though her grey-black fur and a small pouch on her side stood up the most for him.

‘By your voice, I thought you were a boy,’ he chuckled, resting his hooves on the snath of his scythe. ‘I swear, it is eerily close.’

‘How long have you been at work with that thing? Quite impractical,’ hinting at a joking tone underneath.

‘A couple of hours. My son was the one working in the morning. The poor boy was almost ruined by it.’

‘I understand his pleas.’ She bowed her head. Lifting it again, she said, ‘Anyways – excuse me for interrupting your work during these times, but I want to know if you know what road I should take to go for No-Where-There?’

He laughed. ‘Nowirther, not whatever nonsense you just said!’ The mare grimaced, he noticed. But whether it was from being corrected or his tone, he could not tell. Not that he had the time to dwell too much about it. ‘Before I tell you – who even told you my name was Golden Field?’

‘In the village.’

He waited for her to tell more; she stayed quiet. ‘Who exactly?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘I would like to know. Yes,’ he jokingly mused.

‘Was she wearing some old fabric with a book she keeps dangling on her flank as if it will grant her great things?’ interjected Golden Field’s wife, gesturing for her husband to give her the scythe while she gave him her sickle. ‘You are clearly tired. Take this, I will get the other one. We are done with that Tartarus damn thing.’

‘But the other can barely cut,’ he objected.

‘Will do. Plus, I need to get the clothes for the night.’ She pointed her head sideways in an unspoken order. He did not object further and went on to help his daughter.

‘I hope everything is fine?’ asked the distant visitor. ‘The pregnancy is not too impeding?’

‘No. Not for now yet,’ she wearily laughed. Golden Field frowned; she knew it without looking. ‘But work needs to be done.’

‘I sympathize.’

The yellow colored mare smirked and snorted in odd amusement. ‘About that person: it is my mother. And my name is Doremy, by the way.’

The mare nodded.

‘To go to… there,’ Doremy waved vaguely in the cold wind, ‘just continue straight until you meet the Hill of the Old Fool and then go down to the dried-up Winter River. No…’ She stopped, hesitating. ‘That’s Notwirthar… Nowirther, is the one with the emporium,’ she murmured. ‘Okay, so you’ll continue to the Yellow Hills, across the Old Fool, arrive at the-’

The stranger shook her head. ‘Excuse me.’ She walked closer, revealing an unimpressive visage but glimmering green eyes that Doremy loved. ‘The what? And to where?’

Doremy exhaled in a mixture of exasperation and tiredness after noticing how difficult it would be for her to guide the stranger. She should have kept Golden Field talking instead of her.

‘If you find it difficult,’ began the stranger, ‘you can wait for tomorrow. I am willing to pay you the night.’

‘Stay here with us?’ she snapped, liking the sound of the proposal. ‘How much will you pay?’

‘Two nights at the village’s inn. I can pay more-’

‘No, no, no. It’s a deal. We don’t want to overcharge you.’

‘Then let me bring the tool and clothes you need-’

‘No, no, no.’ Doremy moved to close the distance between them. Closer, she saw a blue hue emitted in a quick flash out of the stranger’s eyes before they returned to their emerald hue. Her color shifted rapidly from deep blue to gray black. The stranger’s mane had remained hidden beneath a hood, but she swore that something had flared from underneath in a bright blue. Doremy froze for a second, wanting to ask if the personage was the one she was told about in childhood and the same story she had, in turn, retold to her children. She wondered if the stranger was the Alicorn named Luna.

‘Something wrong, Doremy?’ smoothly asked the stranger.

‘A-are you…’ She shook her head. ‘Nevermind. Just let me tell my husband that you would be staying, and I will join you later.’

‘Very well.’

She turned around and then curved back. ‘E-excuse my manners – what is your name?’

‘Selena.’

It satisfied Doremy, and she turned away toward the field.

‘So?’ asked Golden Field.

‘She will be staying for the night in exchange for what two nights at an inn are,’ her voice slightly shaking. ‘Her name is Selena, also.’

‘Selena…hmm.’ He noticed his wife’s unease. ‘Something wrong?’

‘No. Maybe it is the pregnancy… Nothing to worry about.’

‘Tomorrow, I’ll see what has happened to our demand. And I will take you to the doctor. But, Doremy, what were the colors of her eyes?’

She hesitated for a second, unsure of the proper answer. ‘B- Green. Green eyes.’

‘Could she be one of the wretches of the north?’ he whispered.

‘Who?’ she murmured.

‘The Changelings. I remember my parents telling me of when they had attacked around here. How did they manage to get to Mariposa? I don’t know. But they had attacked at this time and during the night. Maybe she is a vanguard. Why else would she pay this much?’

‘Or maybe it is Princess Luna in disguise,’ tentatively proposed Doremy.

Golden Field dismissed her with a wave. ‘No, no, no. Why would she be between us? She and her sister can only look from above at how we live this stupid life. They don’t care. Plus, what a greedy bastard she must be to only give- what? Four silvers? Then again, it is not like she has cared for those beyond Shire or the other one cared for those beyond her own fief.’

‘I remember the story about the Changeling assault,’ said Doremy calmly, returning to the original topic. ‘It was repulsed during the same night it had occurred. We were saved from it by a ghostly force of… uhh…’

‘“Clad in midnight”,’ he continued in her stead. ‘Or black for us. And the region burned because of our “saviors” retribution. More people died from them than the Changelings.’

‘More would have died. They are Changelings – maybe that sickle was one all along?’ He snorted in amusement, and then looked at it. Doremy forced him to look back up by pulling his mane. ‘But whatever; I am sure it is her. It is Princess Luna standing there. I feel it very keenly now.’

He rolled his eyes and put a hoof on her left shoulder. ‘The pregnancy is playing with your mind. Work is done for you today. In fact, until you give birth, you will stay in the house with Plenitude.’

‘She defended us form the manticore,’ proposed Doremy.

He shook his head. ‘Old stories, my dear.’

Not wanting to make Selena wait longer, Doremy relented on trying to convince him. The mother had to admit, she indeed needed rest. ‘What should I do with our visitor, then?’

Golden Field smiled at her acceptance. ‘Tell her it is six silver for the night – check the coins well before accepting them. Money is money, but I don’t want to own Canterlotian coins,’ he jokingly accused, referencing to Doremy’s plunder in their first trade as husband and wife. They had exchanged them eventually, but kept two in memory of the moment. Doremy grimaced but did not expand upon the subject any further for its sheer embarrassment. ‘Now go and see if that lard has returned from the village. Let us finish as much as we can today.’

‘Golden…’ she warned.

‘I joke. I joke,’ he chuckled. ‘Believe me he doesn’t mind bein’ called that neither.’

She smiled. ‘Good night, then.’

‘Good night, Doremy.’

He kissed her on the left cheek; she returned the gesture in kind and gave the same to their daughter

Doremy then nodded for the stranger and gestured to follow her.

They entered the house late at night, guided to it with the light of the daughter’s horn and the smell burned wood. Her brother had been cooking their dinner and heated water since his return from the market and was assisted by the orange hue of a candle and the shy moonlight. As his mother had demanded, he had prepared Selena’s bed in the common room.

‘You were not forced to help us – you know?’ said Doremy, dropping her tool and crops aside to continue trimming them in the morning.

‘The least I can do to repay you for your generosity,’ answered Selena, apparently untroubled by her few hours of work in the field.

‘You seem to have done so for years,’ almost accused Golden Field.

‘I was not weakened by your prior labor. Nothing more ostensible than that.’

He growled. Golden Field gestured for his wife to follow him; a quick bath and a change of clothes were paramount before they could fall asleep.

The daughter was left with her brother in the common room. Selena did not sit on the makeshift couch and stood silent in front of the two.

‘Still sore?’ asked Green Herb to her brother.

‘Getting better. Sorry for the inconvenience…’

‘Don’t worry. Selena filled in for you. How was the sale, at least?’

‘Forty silver. Good for the beginning of the harvest. I’ve heard that in Marechester things were not better. In fact perhaps even worse. No trained mage can quite… What grandma says?’

‘Uhh… Exercise magic,’ answered Green Herb.

‘Hmm… Yes – exercise their powers to resolve the issues they are facing.’

‘Let us hope it would rain more this year than snow.’ She walked toward her brother and sat next to him.

He nodded and addressed Selena next. ‘How are you still standing like that? You appear to be a city dweller, yet you handle the scythe better than some with twenty years in the field!’

‘Luck.’

‘An unearthed talent, may I add,’ added Green Herb, smirking in amusement. ‘Why do you want to go to Nowirther anyways?’

‘Trade. Apples to be bought for my employer in Shire and grab medicine.’

‘From Nowirther?’ questioned Plenitude. ‘I guess I’ve heard of a herb only growing their… No?’ he asked Green Herb.

She shrugged. ‘I’ve not been to the market for a while, and I haven’t noticed people talking about. For what illness is it used?’

Plenitude shrugged and shook his head. Selena did not answer.

‘They have a good apple and luffa production, though,’ said Plentitude. ‘Their luffas are amazing – we use them when bathing, in case you use more fancier things. But their apples are not the quality intended for the palate of creatures that respect themselves.’ Plenitude got up, struggling to find his balance before his sister helped him find his footing. ‘We have some planted. Usually, we rarely sell those, but we can make exceptions. You like apples yourself, do you?’

‘I do.’

‘Bring her a good lot of them,’ beckoned Green Herb to her brother. He nodded and got up. ‘Knowing your wondrous cooking, she will eat water either way,’ shouted Green Herb as her brother entered the backroom. She turned again toward Selena. ‘At least, sugary water and not something with the ghost of a taste,’ she whispered to her. ‘By the way, have you seen Princess Luna or Celestia? Since you are from Shire and whatnot.’

‘No.’ She was definitive about it.

‘That’s disappointing. I heard of Princess Celestia visiting Mariposa for the post’s opening. But I wonder if Princess Luna is even real? Since it is her domain-’

‘Someone is protecting your dreams and your selves in that world. She is real. She just has other labors than what her sister does.’

Green Herb felt the hint of an accusing tone, but for someone coming from the direct domain of Luna, she could not blame Selena. ‘I’ve never met her in my dreams. No one I know claim to have witnessed her.’

‘She is subtle with us.’

‘She is always hidden from us,’ corrected Selena.

‘But why? I can’t understand. Why can’t she just show herself?’

‘Because if she does, you would hate her. Detest her for infiltrating your privacy and to make you confront our faults. We do not like it when it happens, but this is the reality of her work.’

‘Would it not be better if she would show herself to us, though?’

‘Either way, you would hate her. You would see her as a parasite and want her to be excised forever more. And then, what would she still possess?’

‘Point taken. Although, she raises the Moon for us. I think it merits its own respect – as we do for benevolent Celestia.’

‘I guess,’ she grumbled. ‘Yet you are scared of the night.’

‘There is no light. Of course, it is scary. We hear the howls more clearly in the night. And…’ Green Herb noticed Selena’s posture tensing. There was something uncanny about it – as if it was built around a natural movement around a clear and determined purpose rather than fear. The young mare rose her hoof in a gentle sign to calm Selena.

She continued as if nothing had happened. ‘Occasionally… something else close to it. Similar, but different. As if it had come from people like us but deformed and changed. And I mean, we are little attacked. Sometimes we will see wolves or other predators but they rarely attack.

‘Maybe there is no need for her actions,’ added Selena, deflated.

‘Maybe.’

‘She protects us from the worst of those predators,’ stated Selena, rising the argument to prove a point.

Green Herb heard the deflated tone, but did not want to expand upon it. ‘And we are grateful for it. Truly. But she never shows herself. We have stories of her passing-’

‘We do not like inflicting pain, let alone death, upon others. We are no predators. Yet someone has to take upon those responsibilities. To do what most frown upon.’

‘I respect the army’s and militia’s work, but I don’t think she has to be constantly chaperoning them.’

‘Sometimes they are too slow to react,’ said Selena. ‘Sometimes, they are simply not enough to deal with threats on their own. Equestria is vast; we are beset by myriad of draped foes.’

Green Herb smiled, no malice behind it. ‘She could try to convince them to cease their doings. Like Princess Celestia I heard does to some. The sword should not be the end all; we should try to befriend them.’

Selena did not reply back.

‘Do you agree?’

‘My opinion does not matter. That argument was meaningless.’

‘You don’t like speaking much. Do you?’

‘Life has taught me to shut up.’

‘Oh, my!’ she jested, attempting to brighten the jaded mare’s expression. ‘What life did you have? From your looks, I say we are not that much apart. Is city life so horrendous that it ages a creature this much?’ smirked Green Herb. ‘Have your parents-’

‘Do not mention them,’ warned Selena, the threat terrifyingly prominent. ‘They are dead. That much I will reveal about myself and no further.’

‘T-then a friend…’ attempted Green Herb, the word feeling heavier and more cumbersome than usual.

Silence fell in the room. For a reason Green Herb could not comprehend, an overwhelming sense of guilt wreathed her. Had she asked the wrong question? They were innocent enough; nothing to be concerned about. Nothing offensive, she thought. Yes, they had been discussing about the Sisters, but nothing that warrants such a sudden explosion of emotion. She thought.

Plenitude then entered, apples in a basket with a blunted knife on the side.

He sat down next to his sister and offered Selena an apple he had cut for her. She took it, thanking him with a nod. Green Herb left to take her shower, worried she had offended their guest in some manner.

Selena started eating the apples offered to her unbothered by Plenitude and then the others attempt at a conversation.

The Sun began shining its rays in the still cold morning air. Doremy and Golden Field woke up first, muttering to themselves about the coming workday.

Golden Field was the first to exit the room, still barely able to open his dried up eyes and lips from the night.

Selena was gone.

She had been a quiet guest, talking little if not prompted to. She had eaten the little things they had presented her, not complaining about the taste or the presentation. In fact, she did not care for anything. The hosts did not question the reason for her aloofness; something seemed to be preventing them from digging further.

For all Golden Field cared, as long as the money was left and nothing was stolen, the stranger’s stay would be an amazing investment. Looking around the common room where Selena had slept, he found nothing. She had scammed them. Cursing her a thousand times, he took the dirt-ridden sack, thinking she had left the apple skin within it – Selena had eaten plenty of those. He had left her enjoying their products as he went to sleep. For some reason, she appeared more like a child than a twenty-year-old something mare.

It was heavy. He hastened to open it. Inside, he counted fifty silver coins and six golden ones; all still in circulation. Running toward his wife, he showed her all that Selena had left them with. Wanting to make sure her hunch was right, Doremy went to check upon the tools and collected harvest.

It was: their tools were repaired and felt sharper, cutting the wild herbs with ease and the crops left behind were taken care of.

‘It was her!’ exclaimed Doremy to her bewildered husband.

‘We… We had an Alicorn between us…’

‘I’ve told you!’

‘Why was she hiding? Do you think we are going to be attacked?’

‘Why did you drift to that?’

‘Why the secrecy, Doremy?’ he almost shouted. ‘We should prepare for an attack. I don’t know form whom, but we should!’

‘Why are you shouting?’ asked Plenitude, exiting his and Green Herb’s room, she followed behind; the great soreness that had ridden their son after yesterday’s work was gone.

‘Where is Selena?’ his sister asked.

‘It was Princess Luna!’ said Doremy.

‘W-what?’ Uncertainty gripped Green Herb. Had she vexed her? Would she be the recipient of Luna’s wrath? Additionally – why choose them? Why come here? Was there a heralded event on the border? Wolves? Changelings? Something fouler?

Why did she deceive them? To help them or to spy upon them?

‘It doesn’t matter,’ interjected Golden Field. ‘If she was here in hiding, something foul is brewing. Prepare your bags in precaution!’

‘She would have told us. She would have not left us waiting to meet our fates. Princess has helped us, after all.’ But her words were drowned by the panic movement within the house. And she had to oblige by their actions.

Doremy exited the house, following her daughter. Then, in the glistening horizon, her head shot forward and observed the shadowed silhouette of Selena.

Doremy closed her eyes and it disappeared in an impossibly cold wind that send shudders down the mother’s spine.

She rested, bewildered by the situation. Perhaps her pregnancy and harsh labor were truly playing with her mind. Maybe the latter part was what made them on edge.

It could be Princess Luna. But Doremy did not care – she wanted to believe it. It was her, and her own beliefs mattered above anything.

She did not stop. It had been done before. They get scared. Nothing new.

She continued forth to Nowither or whatever the meaningless name was, walking the entire way. Her eyes shifted to crystalline blue and narrowed, and in a gasp, her neck elongated to its actual size.

She took an apple from her bag, levitating it with the magic of an invisible horn. She took a bit and tasted sweet and bitter. Finishing it, she knew with a mixture of promise, apprehension, excitement, love, hatred, and loathing to her task ahead.

Alone, she proceeded to cross the forest.