The Last Nightguard

by Georg

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Luna, Drama, Bat Pony, Tragedy, Violence, Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Death
Length: 100390

The last Nightguard is coming. Nothing will stop him until his nemesis is destroyed, not even death. Or children.

Despite Princess Luna being rescued from the cruel embrace of Nightmare Moon and returned to her sister’s loving side, there is a dark secret of death and betrayal lurking in the moon’s shadow. Soon it will threaten the Royal Sisters’ reunion and ignite the flames of their deadly conflict again, unless a mere child can show them the way.

The last Nightguard is coming. Nothing will stop him until his nemesis is destroyed, not even death.

Fantastic cover art by Harwick
Now featured on Equestria Daily

Editors include: Tek, Irrespective

Published 2022-10-14 12:20:04 UTC
Last updated 2022-11-07 12:56:10 UTC

1. One Last Shard of Darkness

The Last Nightguard
One Last Shard of Darkness

“To our last breath, to the last drop of blood in our bodies, to the end of our days we shall serve thee. Forsaking all other oaths and titles we shall serve thee. No harm shall we allow, no blight upon your honor shall besmirch the Crown while we stand, united in your defense as brothers through life and unto death.”
—The Iuramentum e sangui, First Oath of the Equestrian Royal Guard

Night had long ago been the time of fear, where ponies hid in their houses and the beasts of darkness had free reign over the land. In the modern era of civilized towns and glowing lights, Night’s fangs had been blunted and claws trimmed until it was a domesticated creature, no more feared than a housecat or fat guard dog. There had been one recent exception to this progress when Nightmare Moon once again rose into the Night sky, promising to rule forever over a world of darkness.

Twilight Sparkle and her friends quickly put an end to that monster and brought a new princess back to rule at Celestia’s side. The event happened so fast in fact, that many cities across Equestria did not even know what disaster had been narrowly averted by the Elements of Harmony.

Ponyville knew.

Having Nightmare Moon appear in your own town hall in front of every citizen was an event that nopony would ever forget. Having Princess Celestia appear a few hours later with her sister at her side did little to induce amnesia over their initial terror, even with cake and punch from Pinkie’s inevitable welcome party. After all, that kind of memory has a tendency to linger, and all the cake in the world will not scrub it away.

It turned out other things from that terrible Night could not be erased by the Elements of Harmony either.

As Night once again enfolded the tiny town at the bottom of the mountain, it was not unusual for Ponyville’s newest librarian to be seen out on her balcony, engrossed with her telescope. The small town was slowly getting over the shock of Princess Luna’s return, and compared to that, having a new librarian was fairly normal, although she was slightly abnormal even for a Canterlot unicorn.

The ponies of the town would have been far more concerned about her sanity if they had been able to listen to Princess Celestia’s most promising student as she scribbled with intense concentration (and many exclamation points) in her notebook.

“Oh, no, no, no! Spike, this is wrong! It has to be wrong! There can’t be any traces of Nightmare Moon left! The Elements of Harmony cleansed her! I’ve checked everything now! If there’s any of Nightmare Moon’s essense left in the moon, it could reinfect Princess Luna everytime she raises it! All of Equestria could be in danger! Spike, take a message! Spike?”

A snore was her only response. Tracking it down to the source showed a baby dragon snoozing against a short stack of books, with one tome drawn up over his face like a blanket.

“I suppose…” Twilight Sparkle gathered up her notes and stuffed them into her saddlebags while still worrying out loud without a draconic brake to slow her accelerating train of panicked thoughts. “Spike’s letter might be directed to Princess Luna by accident. What if she’s already corrupted again? What if she’s organizing some sort of coup? Princess Celestia could be in trouble! I have to get my friends!”

And with a clatter of hooves, Twilight bolted out into the night.

With a second clatter of hooves, Twilight dashed back into the library, grabbed her train schedule and bit bag, then bolted back out into the night again.

It was very quiet for a time.

Then with a third rush into the library tree, Twilight scooped up the sleeping dragon and left yet again.

Morning for Princess Celestia as of late was… unusual. Particularly when compared to the mornings of the last thousand years.

It had only been a few days since Luna’s return, and the imaginary visions Celestia had crafted in her head about what should have happened differed dramatically from the reality of the situation. For one, she had never dreamed that Luna would be so timid, so fearful of everything in the castle, and unwilling to even order any of the servants to do anything for her. The proud, self-confident, loving pony she had lived centuries with was gone, replaced by a weak shadow who clung to Celestia’s side much like a real shadow.

But the mixed blessing was not what transfixed Celestia at the moment.

Twilight Sparkle and her five friends were standing in the throne room this morning as dawn’s sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows and cast the room into brilliant shards of light. It should have been a rewarding moment as Luna greeted the six ponies who had freed her from Nightmare Moon, but her sister was pressed tightly against her far side and her most faithful student…

Twilight Sparkle had that distracted frazzled expression that Celestia had often seen after three or four sleepless nights of intense study. It appeared to be contagious since the rest of her friends varied between dozing on their hooves to muted confusion, although Celestia was beginning to suspect Fluttershy’s normal emotional range only went between Fear and More Fear, and Rainbow Dash was trying her best to stay awake.

“So, let me see if I understand,” started Celestia slowly, picking her way through Twilight’s last few minutes of rapid babbling. “The moon still contains a small fragment of Nightmare Moon.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” started Twilight, only to slow down as she thought. “Well… Yes.”

“And you think the Elements of Harmony should be used on it, just in case this fragment is a threat,” added Celestia.

Twilight nodded. Beside her, Rainbow Dash matched her slow nod as she slipped to one side until her head was resting on Applejack’s muscular shoulder and let out a quiet snore. The noise finally made Rarity distracted enough to quit her in-depth examination of the throne room’s tapestries and pay attention to the conversation.

“A threat?” she echoed. “Um… If you don’t mind me asking, that is. Princess Luna?”

Still trembling like a leaf in a gale, Celestia’s sister peered out from behind the supportive sibling's shoulder, but remained silent.

“What do you remember about the moon, Your Highness?” continued Rarity. “I mean there have been so many theories spread about, and you are entirely among friends here. Twilight, the poor dear, gets so caught up in some of her theories that she might be shying away from shadows, after all. And you were there, so some practical reassurance may calm her down.”

“Go ahead,” encouraged Celestia once it became obvious that Luna was reluctant to speak.

“I… remember little about our moon,” whispered Luna, which gave Celestia a sharp pain in the bottom of her heart at the obvious lie. “Our essence was joined. Time passed in an odd way, like a dream that cannot be trapped or understood. I fought against my darker self for so long, clawing in fear to keep my own mind intact. Even upon my return, I was but a passenger in my own body while Nightmare Moon… did her terrible things.”

With so little to go on and Twilight’s powerful defense of her scientific research, Celestia had to fight back her natural reluctance about exposing her sister to any further trauma. There did not seem to be any other potential negative consequences for permitting Twilight and her friends to use the Elements of Harmony on the moon, and she might have a point.

“If it will reassure my faithful student,” began Celestia in her most comforting voice, “we will do as she wishes this evening. It may be an overabundance of caution, but we should not overlook any chance we have to ensure Nightmare Moon never returns.”

- ☾ - -

Just because Celestia was going to allow Twilight Sparkle to use the Elements of Harmony on the moon, did not mean she was just going to permit the process to be out of her iron control. Every single Royal Guard available was patrolling the palace, and the entire Night staff had been sent home to prevent curious eyes from the tower windows. Even then, the small group of ponies had been gathered for the experiment in the most private place available outside: smack dab in the center of the Royal Gardens. Evicting all of the creatures who normally made that part of the garden their home was most of the trouble. After all, they too wanted to see what was going on, although Fluttershy was terribly disappointed at not being able to depart with them.

There was only so much preparation one could arrange for the unknown. She had attempted to forget that terrible night for so long. Celestia could feel the terrible roar of that thousand year old memory echoing in every cell of her body as the six friends arranged themselves, facing the moon.

There can be only one Princess in Equestria, and that Princess shall be—

Celestia’s wings snapped open on their own, although she tried to hide her reaction by placing one of them over the trembling back of her sister. Luna had been so filled with rage then, an overwhelming tidal wave of emotions that had crushed Celestia’s normal calm demeanor. The beastial side of her sister had taken advantage of her reluctance to fight, betrayed Celestia’s trust, and nearly killed her! A thousand years of remorse faded the memory, but the bitter arctic chill of suppressed pain rose up from the damp grass around her hooves and the warm wing draped over her sister.

The Nightmare could return for Luna, and for the second time in a thousand years, Celestia knew abject terror.

She could not bear to look at the brilliant rainbow of light that burst into the sky from her faithful student’s location. All she could see and feel was the whirl of the Elements of Harmony around her own body, the feeling of unrestrained power like she had never felt before, and the infantile joy… no, the pleasure she felt unleashing it against the bratty little pest who stole her toys, left her things scattered around the throne room after she had gone to bed, irritated her with whining and complaining. It felt good to finally strike her, even having no idea what that blast of power would do. The corusecating brilliance filled her vision again, tasting of metal and chalk, feeling as if the entire world shifted beneath her with the power, and the overwhelming temptation to reach forward and just grasp it again so she could—

Then the light cut off like somepony had thrown a switch, and she gasped in the resulting sudden silence. Although she could see again, blotchy afterimages still floated across her vision, and the entire garden was suspended in an eerie silence. In front of her, Twilight’s friends sprawled around the garden like drunks, and the nearest guard was still holding a hoof over his eyes, but there was one new pony sprawled out on the close-cut grass.

It was a pegasus, although it took a second look to be certain because there were almost no feathers on his greyish bare wings, and those were the healthiest portions of him visible. Corroded metal from ancient armor flaked away in puffs as the creature moved, the enchantments long gone to dust and the remaining steel turning to powder at the slightest touch. The heavyset frame of a guard from ages past was almost obliterated by obvious starvation, with protruding ribs, impossibly thin legs, and gaunt lips drawn back from exposed blackened teeth, with several of them falling out of its mouth to the ground even as she watched in horror.

But still, it moved and breathed. Worse, Celestia knew who it was, and the knowledge froze her in place like a thunderbolt from the sky had smashed into her horn.

“Celly?” Luna’s voice was quavering and barely audible from where she huddled up under Celestia’s wing. “What is it? Don’t let it hurt me!”

The noise attracted the gaunt spectre’s attention, and it glared past Celestia with red eyes, bringing its full attention to the cringing form of her terrified sister. “Traitor!” it hissed, staggering up as far as it could on those stick-like legs, like some sort of starved corpse animated by raw hate and bile. “Die!”

Then it collapsed into a pile of loose feathers and drifting grey hairs, looking more dead than alive except for the slight movement of its skeletal ribs.

2. Oathbreaker

The Last Nightguard
Oathbreaker

“Betrayer of our order, lowest of the low. The trust of our brotherhood and our oath before all others, cast aside. Oathbreaker, I call thee. Oathbreaker, calls all thy brothers. Oathbreaker, calls the world. Let no place be your refuge under sky or above land until your blood cools to ice and worms devour your body. Your name shall be scoured from the rolls of the Sacred Band, and none shall ever utter it again, so long as Sun and Moon rule the sky.”

—The Ritual of the Broken Oath, Sacred Book of the Royal Guard

🌙

“Warleader Ebon Tide.” Despite the chaos and incipient panic of the situation, Princess Celestia’s voice was clear and sharp as a razor, leaving the guard in question to twitch under his dark armor.

“Yes, Your Highness,” responded Eb once he had turned and faced his Dread Sovereign, Princess Celestia, Ruler of the Day and Commander of the Sacred Band, who was standing on the cloud of her temporary command post.

Smudges of dirt and soot stained Her Highness’ coat in messy blotches, and part of her mane had been burnt to a grey frazzle, but her violet eyes paralyzed Eb with the terror of the criminal who did not know just what crime had just been uncovered. Those firm lips were drawn back into nearly a grimace, and it was only then that he saw the long charred mark on her side that Celestia was covering with a bent wing.

“Your fellow Nightguards do not seem to share your dedication to Our cause,” said Celestia slowly. “What prevents you from taking up their dark mantle and serving Our sister in her rebellion?”

“They’re wrong,” blurted out Eb through the fear that held him hostage. “My loyalty is to both you and Princess Luna. Something evil has taken control of your sister. That’s not her anymore, and anypony who takes her side is a traitor to the Crown. That thing is an abomination that needs to be destroyed.”

Unexpectedly, Princess Celestia flinched, but regained her stoic expression in moments and dismissed him with a curt nod of her head.

“Then go. The evacuation is nearly complete, and Our forces have drawn the traitors away for the moment. I alone must face my sister’s wrath.”

“But… What are your orders?” he asked, feeling more like a fresh initiate than a ten-year veteran of the Guard with dozens of battles to his credit. He was lost, cast adrift far more than when his wife had died and left him with two young fillies to raise. Even the cloud beneath his hooves had been weakened with the titanic magical blows that had echoed over the battlefield and left dozens of stunned pegasi across roofs and broken trees below. Warleader Ebon Tide had always followed orders, passing down the Word of the Royal Sisters to his cohorts, a living extension of their will.

Now that harmony had been broken apart, shattered as much as the broken buildings and wounded ponies scattered across the entire Castle of the Two Sisters, and with it Warleader Ebon Tide had found himself disconnected from the familiar and thrown into chaos.

“You are Our last loyal Nightguard,” said Celestia quietly. “Assist with the evacuation and use your own initiative,” she added, turning on her cloud without another word and plummeting down into the shattered ruins of the palace throne room.

The tearing tension would have been easier if Eb just could hit somepony, but as he circled high around the smoldering and collapsed sections of the palace, the only other ponies he saw were corrupted servants of the Nightmare. Former brothers in arms, his companions through countless battles and skirmishes, all oathbreakers and traitors to everything he held dear. They would have turned on him in a moment and torn him from the sky if Eb did not have a natural coat black as coal instead of his colorful compatriots in the Dayguard. The batwinged monstrosities all took one look at his dark coat and proceeded to fly away, assuming he was one of their own despite his lack of perverted wings and glowing yellow eyes.

Coward. That’s all he was now, without the moral rage to pursue them. He should have been furious at his own friends and fellow guards giving in to the honeyed words of the Nightmare and accepting a fraction of her power as their own. All of his anger seemed to have been drained away, leaving only an empty shell in hollow armor, unable to carry out his duties like he had for years in unbroken service to the Crown

He did not know why he had remained true to his oath when the others had fallen. All he could feel was the sucking cold of his own heart and the chill breeze of his altitude as he soared high above the ground, looking around the area for any ponies who had not been evacuated.

And then… he saw her.

The Nightmare rose on wings of dark flame, so different from the quiet Princess Luna he had served for years. When Ebon Tide had risen to battle the Minotaur tribes, Celestia and Luna had flown in their vanguard, wing to wing as they smote their enemies and drove them thither and yon. When the Griffon Warflock had descended upon the far colonies, the Royal Sisters were the tip of their great spear, and the haughty cat-birds were brought to task under their hooves, beaten and sent back to their nests in disgrace. Together as one, Sun and Moon had protected the growing nation of Equestria until no enemy should have been willing to raise claw or axe against them.

Now that unity had been broken, and Princess Luna had betrayed everything Ebon Tide believed in. She took a dark power that transformed her into a monster, and used that same magic to pervert the friends and companions that Ebon Tide had known all of his life.

He wanted to plummet from the sky and beat her, to inflict on the infernal creature a tiny fraction of the pain she had bestowed on Equestria and the Sun Princess who guarded all. Caution stayed his assault because he had seen the casual way the creature had dealt with many Dayguards, striking them down with hoof or fel magic and laughing as they fell into the shattered castle.

And rising like the sun, Princess Celestia ascended from the shattered buildings to take her place opposite the dark princess, glowing just as brightly as the Nightmare burned dark.

He banked slowly above them, watching in awe as the two faced off in some sort of duel far below him, power versus power, princess against princess, untamed forces of the cosmos in conflict, and in that moment, his heart froze in his chest.

Princess Celestia was going to lose.

She already had lost once, chased through the complicated buildings of the palace as the Nightmare casually blasted away. Now she was injured, tired, and backed into a corner where there was no escape. She was going to sacrifice her own life so the evacuated ponies would have a chance to survive…

His wings tilted down without any thought as equal powers blasted out between the Royal Sisters. As long as they were concentrating on each other, the Nightmare would not notice an attack from behind. It was the only way he could break the stalemate so Princess Celestia could win. The only way the race of ponies could survive. Even when he would not.

Use your own initiative.

Wind screamed past his flattened ears as Eb took advantage of every length of altitude he had, trading it for velocity while the glowing form of Nightmare Moon grew closer with astonishing speed. There would be no time for any fancy blows or maneuvers. He would have to strike right at the back of her head in a blow that would kill him as well when Celestia’s incandescent fire became victorious. His own life was meaningless. The last of a noble order who had served the Crown honorably until they had all betrayed their oaths. Guilt gave strength to his wings, pushing him far beyond any chance of recovering from his dive. One last service for Sun and Moon. His own worthless life laid down in sacrifice to save the only Princess worth serving. One blow to kill the sister who Celestia could not bear to strike.

He never even noticed when the coruscating blast of the Elements of Harmony swept over them both.

And then there was nothing.

3. No Remorse, No Compassion, No Hope

The Last Nightguard
No Remorse, No Compassion, No Hope

“In the event of long-term disability, your personnel office will need to fill out Form 17-Stroke-427B Request For Disability Appraisal for you, which will need to be signed under seal by your commanding officer and sent to the Office of the Princess for approval. The process should take between six to twelve weeks, during which your pay shall continue at the current rate, deposited into your account biweekly. In the event salary adjustments need to be made after preliminary approval of the appraisal and before final adjudication, four additional forms have been created for your convenience…”
— Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume Four

Celestia hated hospitals. Nothing good ever happened there, and far worse, her little ponies constantly tried to drag her into their disasters. Heart attacks, pancreatitis, kidney disorders, liver failure, cancer, cancer, cancer… Every time one of the palace servants had a loved one come down with one disorder or another, they got that pensive expression that she knew came before the hesitant request to visit their ailing aunt or stricken parent.

She went, of course. And smiled. And said The Words.

“So, Doctor Hurwitz. Will he recover?”

Their meeting with the doctor was only a few lengths outside what she was starting to think of as the room holding ‘The Anomaly.’ She much would have preferred to have been somewhere with cake, huge squishy piles of it with enough sugar to drive her oversized metabolism into a coma. But no. Hospital cake was not cake at all, and she knew better. The elderly doctor in front of her looked like he needed a few cakes of his own to fill out his wrinkles, although he had treated the… creature quite well, as far as she knew.

She did not want to use the creature’s name. It was bad enough she knew it.

“You have to understand, Your Highness… That is Your Highnesses,” the doctor corrected, giving a trembling Luna a polite nod of his horned head. “This pony has been through a terrible time. Really, we were amazed he survived this long. His armor is practically dust, the hairs of his coat flake off like glass fibres where he is touched, and every organ in his body has shrunk until they are nearly unrecognizable. We’ve pumped him as full of fluids and nutrients as equinely possible, but he is living on a thread. It could really go either way, and I don’t think he will ever make a full recovery.”

“I want to see him.” Celestia held the falsehood to just a hair shy of command. She most certainly did not want to see him, but there was no way she could ever tell the doctor to quietly unplug the machines and let the dead die in peace. He objected to their visit, of course, in a way that made it obvious that he was only going to allow their presence once he had properly established his position as physician, then opened the door to the chamber of horror beyond.

It was far too warm inside the room instead of the usual hospital chill, most probably because the physicians did not want to cover the naked stallion with anything that would keep them from sticking a needle in wherever they wanted. She had seen practitioners of acupuncture with fewer needles, although his bare wrinkled skin showed every scratch or flake of dryness which made it look worse. Stomach tubes in his mouth, oxygen tubes up both nostrils, several bottles of unusual fluids dangling over the bed, and to top the indignity, a catheter.

To their credit, the nurses and physicians in attendance did not slow their attention to the failing patient, and the sight brought a faint hint of relief to her heart. The growing sense of urgency in the room was familiar; she had seen far too many times when a pony no longer clung to this mortal coil and slipped away. This, at least, would be a mercy to both the living and the dead.

“Blood pressure is still dropping,” said one nurse, pumping away at a small red ball like it would somehow return the patient to life. “We’re losing him.”

“We’re too late,” said Celestia, trying to hold back a relieved sigh. “Goodby, fair stallion.”

Obviously, the creature heard her quiet words. His red eyes snapped open, locking onto Celestia as if she were the only thing in the room, then sliding sideways to glare at Luna, who was trying to hide behind her. Toothless bloody gums fought against tubes, and a wheezing gasp escaped from his efforts. He struggled to the limits of his feeble strength, barely able to rattle the bars on the hospital bed and certainly in no danger of breaking his restraints, although his motions set the hospital attendants to a frantic panic.

Doctor Hurwitz gently urged his royal visitors out of the room, then held himself at the doorway so he could see both his patient and the suddenly upset Celestia.

“He recognized you. What is his name?” pressed Doctor Hurwitz. “What happened to him? I have to know about my patient to treat him.”

“He is… was a Royal Guard,” admitted Celestia reluctantly. “Many years ago.”

“I didn’t realize,” whispered Luna at her side. “I thought he looked… Oh, my stars. Eb.” Her little sister trembled like a leaf and drew closer to Celestia, who put a wing over her regardless of the blockage they were causing in the hospital corridor.

“He must have been caught up in the Elements of Harmony’s magic,” said Celestia. “He was nowhere to be found afterward. We thought he was… dead.”

“Like the rest,” murmured Luna. “So many.”

“Doctor,” said Celestia, placing a hoof on the elderly unicorn’s shoulder and looking him in the eyes, since bad news was best to be given quickly. She reminded herself that the words she was about to speak were the absolute truth, even if their true meaning was obscured.

“The magics of the Elements and imprisonment in the moon are too severe to be borne by mortals. He may be alive at this moment, but his fate is certain. It may be tonight, or sometime tomorrow, but no matter how much effort you put forth, his fate is certain. He is going to die.”

“Not as long as I’m his physician,” said the elderly unicorn with a spark of ire. “We have some of the finest specialists in magical damage flying in tomorrow from all corners of Equestria and beyond. We’ll save him, Your Highnesses.”

“No, you don’t understand,” said Celestia quickly. “His family, his guardmates, everypony in his history. They’re all dust now. Besides, even if you can keep him alive, his mind is gone.”

For just a moment, Doctor Hurwitz was about to respond, then hesitated, giving both Celestia and Luna a long look. After a few short breaths and some consideration, he nodded at them both. “I understand,” he said simply. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see to my patient.”

* * *

Celestia waited, but there was no word of Ebon Tide’s death in the next few hours. His dark spirit seemed to hang heavily over the palace instead, bringing a chill and terrifying air to what she had hoped to be an uplifting family reunion.

Not that the uplifting family reunion had happened yet, but Celestia had expectations. Her sister had been away for so long, and changed so much, but she was still her sister. Their ties could not be broken, because if they were…

“Luna?” Celestia knocked ever so gently on her sister’s door, trying not to think of the guest quarters it had been for the last few centuries, or the relatively few actual guests it had seen. Sunset Shimmer had filled it like sunlight in a greenhouse, with an overwhelming drive and warmth that had blinded Celestia to her hidden lusts for power, much like Nightmare Moon had lurked in the shadows waiting for a chance to strike.

The chance that Celestia had delivered on a silver platter.

Perhaps she had over-reacted when Sunset showed her weakness. If Celestia had opened her heart, told Sunset about Luna, maybe she could have been guided to greatness instead of swearing vengeance before vanishing into Starswirl’s Mirror, never to return, not even in a thousand years like Luna.

“Please open the door, Luna.” The noises beyond showed that she had been heard, but was being ignored again, so much like before. Was she repeating her mistake again? Would Twilight Sparkle be forced to use the Elements of Harmony to send Luna back to the moon for another thousand years? Her heart had been shattered by betrayal the first time, and it had taken centuries before Celestia could even feel again. She had stumbled through her routines of government only half a mare, not caring or reacting while Equestria languished. It had been the only way to survive until time could place a scab across the bleeding wound in her heart. A scab which had torn itself free so she could feel the cold blood dripping inside her breast once again with every plea.

“Luna, please!”

The door gave a quiet click and opened a crack. Luna held herself just barely inside the opening, and did not meet her eyes, although it was difficult to tell with the way her mane was knotting up over her face. Worse, she had been crying, and damp tracks traced their way down her neck in erratic clumps of matted hair.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Luna moved to close the door, only to stop when Celestia’s hoof blocked its path. “I said I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t talk about it. Not with you!”

“I know you’re angry with me,” started Celestia, only to be cut off as Luna jerked her head up and stepped into the doorway with a snarl.

“Is it any wonder that my perfect, precious sister knows everything about me? You’re the only pony who knows everything!”

“Not everything, you ungrateful brat!” snapped Celestia in return, only to cringe as the familiar words escaped her mouth. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, Luna. I didn’t mean it! Don’t—”

The door slammed, and all of Celestia’s pleading and begging could not open it again that evening.

4. Die and Die Again

The Last Nightguard
Die and Die Again

“Death benefits for serving members of the Royal Guard differ somewhat from retirees, depending on circumstances (See Table xiv, page 475). Survivors should reference the line in the table that best approximates the certificate provided them, with allowances for location of service (See Table xv, Page 478) and pay allowances, calculated separately.”
— Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume Four, Appendix Eight

The new day did not bring word of the guard’s death, and Celestia dared not ask. She took refuge in the comfort of routine, even when said comfortable routine was difficult to find with the entire palace still in shock over Luna’s return. Part of her approach was to dampen the ease at which her little ponies went into panic at the slightest excuse. Part of it was denial. It was far too easy to think of signing routine papers and attending routine meetings as a necessity. Luna would come out and greet the common ponies in her own time. They would see what a wonderful princess she could be and give her the adoration she craved.

When lunch passed yet again with no sign of Luna, she accepted the excuses of the staff who said the missing princess was ‘fatigued’ after her ordeal, and would be dining in her quarters.

The same for dinner that evening.

And breakfast the next morn.

And the next.

There was a certain reluctance of her little ponies to bring up topics they thought their Princess might find discomforting, a habit that Celestia had fought against all of her living memory. She was large, and therefore triggered some portion of the pony hindbrain present since foalhood that equated ‘large’ with ‘motherly’ in most cases. It had made any kind of intimate relationship a near-impossibility—except a number of odd ones over the years—and caused mental ruts in Celestia’s thinking when dealing with the various disasters and diplomatic interactions she had experienced. Finding herself absently sticking down an awkward bit of crest feathers on a griffon war-ambassador sprung immediately to mind, despite the dispute being well over two centuries ago, and resolving itself almost immediately with a treaty that still stood at the present day.

Twilight Sparkle at least had been quite eager to bring any and all troublesome problems to her Princess for analysis and praise. Of course, if she had not told Celestia about the most recent problem, he would still be imprisoned in the moon, fading away into oblivion without anypony knowing.

...like Luna.

Parchment rustled as Celestia changed positions on her uncomfortable throne, reminding her of similarly uncomfortable obligations. Twilight had written twice asking about Luna and… him. Having her Faithful Student so far away in Ponyville was like missing a tooth. Every minute of the day, she kept expecting a small purple shadow to emerge nearby with a whole series of interlaced questions. Celestia was well-aware of various religious sects in parts of Equestria who worshiped her as a goddess; Twilight would never think of Celestia as quite that small. She trusted her Princess as a plant trusted that the sun would come out the next day. In her eyes, Celestia just was.

Still, Celestia could not find the inner strength to put quill to parchment. There were no answers to Twilight’s questions, or at least no answers yet.

And when Celestia found herself walking into the hospital wing later that day, she found no answers, only more questions.

“Luna? What are you doing here?” Celestia had intended on just slipping to the doorway and peeking in on the ailing ancient stallion. Her quieted hoofsteps had obviously gone undetected, due to the way Luna jerked upright in surprise from where she had been resting by the doorway.

“Waiting,” whispered Luna after a time. She ducked her head and peered into the room by way of opening the door just a crack, then let the door soundlessly close. “There have been so many chirugeons and apothecaries who hath… have visited him.”

“There has been no change in his condition, then?” Celestia found herself whispering too, despite the fact she had nothing to hide.

Giving a short shake of her head, Luna stared down at the tile floor with no expression at all. As if the silent sister was some kind of curse, Celestia likewise could not think of any words to say. There should have been a fight, with angry shouts and vicious insults, so the Royal Sisters could once again be joined together in bonds of apology and forgiveness, or at least that was what the newspapers insisted on printing. Reporters were giddy at the concept of a second ruling alicorn, and were churning out optimistic stories just as fast as the presses could turn. The servants around the palace were just as happy with a new princess who happened to be closer to their stature, and had busied themselves with tasks designed to bring Luna into the modern world as fast as possible. No doubt there were contractor ponies working frantically in Luna’s currently empty rooms for the few minutes they had, stripping away any sign that Twilight Sparkle had once called it home and filling the area with moon-based decor.

Her prison has followed her home. And now her cellmate has returned. No wonder she looks so miserable.

As much as Celestia wanted to stay and comfort her sister, she could remember far too well how sharply Luna would react when she was in one of her moods. When every action taken was returned as bitter bile, it was too easy to take her words as a challenge, to compete with Luna in a war of verbiage that turned into actual blows, and the last thing Equestria needed was for them to start fighting again.

“If you need anything—” started Celestia, only to be cut off by Luna’s sharp retort.

“I don’t. I have everything I need. Just… leave me for now.”

Celestia left as quietly as she arrived, remaining aloof and calm like a princess should. Or at least until she reached her rooms and began to cry.

* * *

Days of silent vigil by the ailing stallion’s room left Luna with new respect for this future world’s medicine. In her days, physicians wearing elaborate headgear would dose ponies with random concoctions that could easily kill their patients while they all pretended to be ponies of great knowledge and wisdom. So much had changed. The physicians no longer wore silly hats, for starters.

Once Celestia had departed, and Luna had waited a few more hours to ensure she actually had departed, she moved forward, through the hospital door and into the room before she lost her nerve. There was only one nurse on duty at the moment, a timid pale pink thing with huge eyes that reflected Luna’s impassive visage, and Luna’s exacting memory picked her name out of the chatter she had been silently absorbing for the last few evenings.

“Nurse Cottonball, We wish privacy with your patient,” said Luna just as calmly as she could.

“He… um… I should get a doctor,” said the nurse.

“You are entrusted with the responsibility of his care,” said Luna calmly with the slightest sideways tilt to her head. “Will my visit interfere with any treatment or procedure?”

“um… no,” said the nurse in a very small voice while eyeing the door on the other side of Luna.

“Verily, his condition has been quietly slipping for some time,” continued Luna, “and the doctors have decided not to inform us.”

The nurse said nothing, but her expression spoke volumes.

“Leave us.” Luna moved to one side and cleared the line of retreat for the trembling nurse, who did not in fact leave.

“I can’t—” she started, only to get cut off by Luna stepping forward and fixing her with an intense glare.

“That was not a request,” she said plainly. “Your patient has been cut off from his natural world for centuries. His internal fire has been depleted to mere embers. I would fain replace a small fraction of it with mine own. Without this, he will most certainly die.”

It was a lie most foul, but at the moment, Luna did not care. She watched the nurse scurry away, then placed a barrier upon the closed door. The only creature in Equestria who could break it would be Celestia, and even then, it would give enough time to do what Luna planned.

She hated herself for her actions.

A few swift motions of her magic plucked most wires and tubes from the ailing stallion, although it took much longer to remove the lengthy tube stuck down his nose, and the fatter tube stuffed down his throat. It did not disturb him in the least, and Luna ran a swift spell across his motionless body to determine the reason.

“Fel poisons and cloying elixirs,” she muttered under her breath, charging her magic to burn the foul drugs from his blood. “They would fain have a brave Guard meet his end in a mindless stupor rather than face the Pale Mare with his teeth bared to fight.” It was not precisely an accurate curse, since his mouth was bereft of intact teeth, but her own blood had begun to boil at the indignity, even moreso when the stallion shifted in his bed and his red-rimmed eyes snapped open.

“Ebon Tide, Warleader of the Third Cohort of the Nightguard,” said Luna sharply.

The only response she received was a slight increase in his rough breathing and a minor stirring of his bound limbs. The heavy straps binding him to the shining steel bed were terribly overdone, because she doubted he could even move if released.

“The doctors say you will die,” said Luna. “Your Princess says they are wrong. A thousand years you spent in my prison, bathed in the bile of my weakness, and yet I shall not release you from your oath. To your last breath, to the last drop of blood in your body, to the end of your days, that is what you swore to both of us. Your last act was to strike your Sovereign, to draw back your hoof and attack that which you swore to protect. We shall not see your life pass on this one final disgrace. We shall not allow your failure to taint the history of our Guard.”

“Die,” rasped the feeble stallion through a dry throat. “Traitor.”

“You hate me so much that it drove you to the greatest dishonor,” said Luna. “We are well aware of my own failure. We shall live with it until the end of our days. There is nothing that can be done for it. Yours, however…”

Luna lit her horn with a dark, greenish magic, and Ebon Tide’s red eyes grew large.

“As I granted the cohorts of your fellow Guards a small portion of my power when I was taken over by my disgrace, I now bequeath upon you the power which you would not accept then. You are the last of my Nightguard, and your duty remains. Take this power and use it to feed the flames of your rage. Let your hatred for me drive you to live. Cherish that hate, hold it close to you, and let it guard you from the deep darkness which swallows mortals whole.”

Dark magic cascaded down from Luna’s horn and engulfed the helpless stallion, who thrashed violently in his bonds and straps. “Hate me,” whispered Luna as the magic did its job. “Despise me with every portion of your body, with your every thought and deed. Know that I stole you away from family and friends, from your entire world, and loathe me. Look upon my gift and think of your companions, all dead and gone because of my vile actions.”

With one last burst of power, Luna’s spell was complete, and the magic cut off with a fading glow of violet still surrounding the wide-eyed stallion.

“Live,” said Luna. “Recover your strength and return to my side. Your oath demands you complete a single final task before you are permitted to depart this world.”

With that, Luna strode slowly out of the room, allowing the barrier to fade away as she passed.

6. Nightmares in the Shadows

The Last Nightguard
Nightmares in the Shadows

“Sick leave for serving guard members is to be treated with respect. Guards should not report for duty if they are ill, but to the infirmary for examination. A doctor will determine your fitness for duty and either pass on notification of your incapacitation to the Officer of the Day or see you returned to duty.”
—Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume Two

Ebon Tide was the dead name of a pony gone for the last thousand years. His family, dead. His companions, dead. Everypony he had ever known, dead, dead, dead. Dead not by his actions, but by the loathsome beast that Princess Luna had become once, and would become again. Proof of her intent began at the various potions which the doctors had pumped into his veins. They were useless as dishwater against the fel magic rampaging through his ailing body. All the clash of medicine and magic did was make his nerves itch and faintly dampen the raging heartbeat of his new form.

He had seen membranous wings like these on his transformed fellow Nightguards so many years ago, and yet it seemed just like yesterday. Nightmare Moon’s magic filled them into more powerful limbs than his featherless and fragile pegasus wings, but now he was as weak as a foal, barely able to lift his foreleg and the encompassing thick cast which his exertions had necessitated. A clean break would normally take weeks to heal, but he could feel a practical fizzing under the skin as the bones knit, making him want to tear the cast off with his teeth and gnaw the cursed limb until it could be torn free.

He never was one to suffer inactivity well. With Luna’s infernal magic inside him, he had the patience and tranquility of a toddler hopped up on bits of sugar beet. Every click and rattle in the dark hospital was like a hoof on a chalkboard to his nerves. The feelings of new teeth beginning to cut upward in his gums likewise. Hunger drove him like a feral beast. He growled at the nurses who brought his pasty gruel, but he ate to the bottoms of the small bowls and licked them clean, trying to find something to chew on in order to quench the blazing itches in his gums.

It had been days since Princess Celestia had visited, time cut into bloody fragments by the hands of the lying clock on the wall and reassembled one tiny slice at a time in his scrambled mind. There had been time to plot and scheme his escape and attack on the Nightmare, despite his total lack of any outside information sources and his twisted body that certainly would be spotted as the abomination it was if he managed to set one hoof outside the hospital room.

Luna had to die. That was the only clear thought that he could cling to, holding it close to keep his focus, blocking out the endless expanse of emotionless stars and surviving for the moment. A thousand years of Nightmare screaming in his ears, and the only pillar of sanity he had been able to keep was his determination to kill the traitor. Or perhaps this was his mind finally snapping after being trapped in the moon for so long, and the Nightmare was cackling in the corner, giving him just enough slack to think he was free before yanking him back into the swirling chaos of her madness.

No. This had to be real. His imagination was not fertile enough to dream the things the doctors had done, the words they said when they thought he could not hear. He was doomed to live his short life as a bat-winged freak, a decorative puppet that Luna would trot out to show to the pony populace as an example of her power.

Or at least until he ripped out her throat as she deserved.

Something surged up his spine at the faint sounds he could barely hear from the hallways, a low ‘whuff’ of gentle wingbeats and the slightest of scratching noises that he never could have sensed in his old body, even during his prime. At first, he thought it was another timorous nurse with his loathsome gruel, but after a short time, he could tell there were several sneaking ponies, and doing so in a way that any Nightguard would find… unprofessional.

“Are you sure he’s here?” whispered one young voice.

“I told you a thousand times, Peanut.” The rest of the words were unintelligible, but the youth of the whispering ponies was obvious, and Ebon Tide’s jaw clenched with suppressed rage.

Am I so insignificant that she sends children to slay me?

He wanted to spring from his bed and leap onto the intruders, teeth bared and striking. In his current toothless and feeble state, Eb did not think he could even stand up, let alone ‘leap’ anywhere, even to fight foals. He was still determined to go down fighting, so he hunched against his rough mattress and watched the door to his room from between narrowed eyelids.

It took an interminable time before the door cracked open and the faint glow of golden eyes could be seen peering inside. There were a lot of eyes for the limited space, much like the observers were stacked on top of each other, and they moved frequently as their owners shifted positions.

“I don’t see him,” whispered the first voice again, the one who had been called Peanut. It seemed an odd name for a pony, neither a pea nor a nut. Perhaps he had been named after a cross between the two vegetables, much like an Everfree spiderbear. In any event, a killer with a name like Peanut would not have an easy time around his fellows.

“Over there in the bed,” whispered a different voice, sounding deeper and older. “Rip, you go in and see if he’s sleeping. You’re the quietest one of us.”

“I’m not going in there,” said a very small voice, who had to be Rip. “He’s not moving. What if he’s… dead?”

There was an exceedingly long period of pure silence, broken only by the faint rustling of the three small ponies.

“We could go home,” suggested the deeper and older voice.

“He could be in respiteatory distress,” said Peanut. “If he’s not breathing, we can call the doctors, and they can resissessitate him, and Princess Luna will thank us. We could even get a medal.”

The chance of the intruders being murderous assassins was dropping by the word, and the probability of them being mere children here to gawk at the bat-winged monstrosity was rising as fast as his ire. There should have been Nightguards in the corridor, ready to restrain a dangerous himself or to prevent foolish intruders from reaching this far. In his day, he would have dropped on a security failure like this with all four hooves, and driven out whatever slacker had let it happen. Whips would be involved for certain.

He was so caught up in his thoughts of righteous indignation over the current state of his former responsibility that he completely ignored the three little pests who ever so slowly eased their way into the room. They clung together in the shadows, using their own proximity to each other as a substitute for confidence, and eased their way closer to his bed one tiny hoof at a time, until they began to peek up over the edge.

And three sets of golden nightmarish eyes peered into his.

Sheer terror froze him in place, turning his blood into ice and leaving his muscles unable to move or allow him to scream at the sight. They were not pony eyes, but the slit-pupils of Nightmare’s monsters in the faces of tiny foals, with tufted ears and the tips of tiny fangs sticking out from their open mouths.

“He looks nakie without any hair,” said Peanut, leaning forward and giving him a sniff with her wrinkled-up tiny nose. “He smells funny too.”

“It’s the medicine,” pronounced Rip quite authoritatively despite his smaller size. “That’s why his eyes are open and he isn’t blinking.”

The third little monstrosity did not say anything, but kept looking over his shoulder and around the room like a proper alert Guard.

Despite the shock, Eb’s heart kept hammering away, but slowed after a few moments when imminent bloodshed did not result from his tiny invasion. It was humiliating how these three little monsters were treating him as some sort of fascinating insect they had discovered on the floor instead of a monster in pony form, but since they were so much like himself, and he could see small membranous wings on their backs…

It required a lot of thought which he was not able to think. The rage still boiled through his veins, doubled at the thought of Nightmare’s hellish magic used to corrupt such young souls.

“He blinked,” announced Peanut. “So he’s not dead.”

“Are we in trouble?” asked the third little pony who vanished from sight, only to reappear with a glass of water held in the crook of its fetlock. “You’re not going to tell on us, are you?” it added.

It was a fair question for monsters to ask in normal circumstances, although Eb was feeling anything but normal. The water helped dampen his wordless rage, and by the time he reached the bottom of the glass, he had one question that he really needed an answer to before he went even more insane.

“What… I mean who are you?”

Three little nightmarish faces all perked up and smiled with an overabundance of sharp teeth, and the smallest of them jumped on the conversational suggestion like a kitten on a mouse.

“I’m Riptide,” he announced with a nod to the larger child of nightmares. “And this is my cousin Gravel, who really is Pea Gravel but he hates that name. And my big sister Peanut, who is a pest.”

“I am not!” protested the other small monster. She straightened up and jabbed Riptide in the shoulder with the tip of one hoof. “I’m smarter than both of you colts.”

“No, I mean who are you?” snarled Eb quickly before an obviously habitual fight could get started between the three of them. His own two children could go off against each other at the slightest hint, and Calla could never get them to stop until he put his hoof down.

No, it did no good to think of his family. They were dead now. Dead and turned to dust for centuries. That single thought only tore his heart open again and let the rage flow through every memory that had been stolen from him by the monster Nightmare Moon. Still, in the presence of the three tiny monsters, he just could not maintain quite the degree of raw fury that he had been holding before.

“He means our Clan and House,” said Riptide. “Gravel is from House Moonglow, Clan Honor. The nut and I are from House Glory, Clan Silverfish.”

“Silversmith,” said Peanut before sticking out her orange tongue. “My uncle Radiant says you’re a thousand years old, and that Princess Luna brought you with her from the moon, and that you’re her coltfriend, and that you almost died protecting her from Nightmare Moon, and you are probably going to be her next Captain of the Guard instead of Shining Armor who is really cool and dating— Oh, we’re not supposed to know that,” she ended quickly.

“Are we in trouble, mister?” asked Gravel. “Because I can chase these two back home if you want.”

“I didn’t get to ask him any questions!” blurted out Peanut with a rolled-up lower lip and blinking her golden eyes. “Nopony in the House will tell us anything, and they won’t let us see Princess Luna!”

At that name, all of the darkness boiled up inside Ebon Tide’s mind again, and he heaved himself over to face the wall, letting his cast-wrapped foreleg lay on top of his chest like an anchor dragging him down into the inky depths of his anger. “Go!” he managed to growl. “Leave me!”

There was a clattering of small hooves on hospital tile, and Ebon Tide was alone in the room again.

Alone except for his dark thoughts.

7. Children of Folly

The Last Nightguard
Children of Folly

“Dependents of serving guards are not permitted within the patrol area without prior written permission from the guard’s superior and the Officer of the Day. A general exception is made for special occasions like Take Your Foal To Work Day or Spousal Appreciation Day…”
—Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume Three

Before, Celestia had expected Ebon Tide to die and was afraid he might live. Now she was terrified of both outcomes. The clash of desires had left her unable to sleep out of fear that she would creep down into this hospital corridor in her slumber and hold a pillow over the feeble stallion’s face until he passed away, or even more terrifying, that she would force a portion of her own power into the poor creature and create an abomination even more terrifying than her sporadic dreams of shadows and death.

Celestia’s dreams held monsters without end, so many of them with her own face.

She dared not visit his room again, not after her clash with Luna. Likewise, she was unwilling to pressure the doctors, either to kill him or save him, she was not sure which. Important papers began to pile up as she fretted, although she was kept from the less-critical paperwork clogs by faithful servants she had long-ago started to take for granted. Whispers below her hearing began to circulate as an informal network of loyalists took up the slack, running interference from Prince Blueblood’s ‘clever’ schemes and various foolish diplomats who sought to take advantage of Celestia’s momentary lack of concentration. She took to walking in the palace garden to deal with the stress, then pacing through the remote crannies and offices of the bureaucracy at all hours of the day or night. Several dozen ‘spontaneous’ resignations followed from dusty fossils who thought they had found perfect hiding places to collect their paychecks and do nothing for the rest of their long careers, only to hear the direct clop-clip-clop of golden hoofboots drawing near their magazine-decked desks. Sometimes, a window replacement was required as the employee abandoned their workplace by the most direct route available.

Sheer chance can occasionally yield better results than the most astute planning, and so it was that Princess Celestia found herself directly in the path of Doctor Hurwitz as she rounded a distant corner in the bureaucratic annex.

“Oh!” squeaked the elderly doctor, who skidded to a halt with a haze of papers fluttering to the ground and his batpony nurse a mere pace behind. “Your Highness! I was just… We were considering… How did you find me?” he finished, looking furtively for an exit.

Silence had served Celestia well for squeezing answers out of reluctant ponies, and the resulting quiet made the doctor add, “Is this about my patient?”

“Yes,” admitted Celestia despite her wishes. “And his recent developments.”

“I’m sorry!” squeaked the nurse with eyes so wide and white they nearly met in the middle. “I told Peanut she shouldn’t be visiting him but she did anyway and I didn’t think they could do any harm with just one visit but—” The nurse wilted, dropping her nose nearly to the ground which made her white paper hat nearly fall off her head as the tight ball of violet mane bumped it from behind. “Please don’t fire me,” she begged. “I’ll keep Peanut on a tighter leash. She’s such an… excitable young mare, looking to find out things with her friends. We were hoping she would become a reporter,” added the nurse.

Celestia turned her head slightly to look at the bowing nurse, only this time she did not need to use silence to draw out any hiding tidbits of events because the doctor did it for her.

“Nurse Flutter!” he snorted. “Are you telling us that your little… pest interfered with my patient! I was wondering why his progress had taken a sudden turn for the worse. I’m sorry, Your Highness,” continued Doctor Hurwitz smoothly as he turned back to Celestia. “I left strict instructions that all of the nocturnal pegasi were to be excluded from the treatment wing, as you specified. I had no idea her little troublemaker was behind this latest downturn. I assure you, she will be punished, and your exclusion will be carried out to the letter in the future.”

Despite the sewer of emotions churning under her ribcage, Celestia managed to keep her expression neutral and ask, “You mentioned Ebon Tide had a turn for the worst?”

“Ah, that’s his name,” said the doctor, who seemed to miss the nurse’s odd twitch. He scribbled on a clipboard, then gave it a sharp nod as if applying a name to a problem would somehow solve it. “He was doing well, gaining weight and displaying increased response to stimuli despite the broken foreleg he gained from your last visit. He’s nowhere near the level we would like in an ordinary patient, because ideally he should have been walking again by now. Despite the setbacks, he had been making good progress in that direction. He was even giving commands to the night staff for more food.”

“And then?” prompted Celestia ever so carefully.

“A few nights ago, the morning staff came into his room and found he had turned his face to the wall. He refuses to eat now, and says nothing.”

“I see,” said Celestia, grasping at the thin reed she had been presented. It was a loathsome, terrible thing she was about to do, but she had done many things she regretted during her long years, and this was to protect her precious sister, so it was for the greater good.

“Perhaps he would respond better if he were transferred to a specialty care facility in Seaddle or Manehattan? With either city’s larger population base, I’m sure their specialists in unresponsive patients will be able to devise a new treatment plan for his recovery.”

“Your High—” Doctor Hurwitz’s eyes opened slightly wider and he bit down on the rest of his words. A suggestion from Celestia carried as much weight as a direct command, or more. “I can see that,” he said carefully instead. “I will see to his transfer as soon as we can make arrangements. I presume we should continue to exclude the nocturnal pegasi from his presence?”

“It sounds only prudent, considering his poor reaction to Nurse Flutter’s child,” said Celestia, wriggling a little on the inside at the thought of blaming an innocent for her scheme to put Ebon Tide at a safe distance from either alicorn sister. “This is a sensitive matter, and should not be discussed with anypony who does not need to know.”

“Such… as your sister, I presume?” asked Doctor Hurwitz, who began to solemnly write on his clipboard. “I understand totally. No need to complicate matters. I’ll go with him myself to oversee his treatment, and send you regular status reports. You can inform your sister as you see fit that way,” he added.

“Exactly.” Celestia turned on her heel and began walking away. “I shall leave the details to you, Doctor Hurwitz. Please ensure he gets the best of care wherever he winds up.”

As long as it is far, far away from us.

Celestia did not even notice the thoughtful expression on the face of the batpony nurse as she departed.

The unnamed pony in the bed drew the shadows around himself like a blanket of gloom. He was nopony now, nosing away the occasional bowl of food before curling up against the side of the bed again. He no longer listened to the nurses, and ignored all of their attempts to move him into what they thought would be more comfortable positions. Anger guttered in his heart like a smothered flame choked out by a mountain of ashes.

He was a dying monster in a land of monstrous children. The admiring look in their golden eyes haunted his mind, and their happy voices rattled around in his empty head as the world seemed to rotate slowly around him. Children should never be monsters. They deserved to laugh and play without terrible things happening to them. He could remember his own father dying when he was a young colt, and the clinging weight of responsibility draped across his shoulders like anchors dragging him into the dark abyss. He had the duties of the Guard to help him then, to provide a goal in his disrupted life.

And the last act of his life was to betray his oath. To strike without honor, at the one he was sworn to protect above all else.

Still, although he was caught up in his misery, he was not deaf. The tiny clicks and scratching noises alerted him to the return of one of the monster children from before, but only one this time. The hoofsteps advanced slowly with more than one hesitation, as if the child were about to regain his senses and flee. Then the inevitable and unwelcome touch on his bed that made him curl up even more and try to tuck his barely tufted ears flat against his head to keep from hearing what was to follow.

“Psst.”

Then, after a period of time that should have been sufficient to discourage the child, it happened again, only louder. “Psst!”

“Go away,” he muttered from under his cast-laden foreleg. If the hospital had given him the dignity of a sheet, he would have pulled it over his head. “Begone, pest.”

“No,” stated the small voice of Peanut quite authoritatively. “Just because everypony calls me a pest, doesn’t mean I’m wrong, Mister Ebon Tide. Mama told me not to visit you, but she told me your name, and I looked it up in Daddy’s history book. There’s a lot of Tides in there, but I found it way, way back in the back.”

There was a crinkling of parchment, and something sharp prodded him in the back.

“You were just like a captain in the Royal Guard,” she continued. “You had big shiny armor and everything. Mama said you might not know who you are, so I brought the page. I’ll tape it back in his book when you’re done reading it and nopony will be able to tell.”

An immediate response rose to Eb’s mind, but failed to get through his dry throat. To deface a precious book in that way, to tear out a page of a priceless tome was an unthinkable act. Who knows how many ponies labored to copy it out over the years, only to have a child destroy their work. Even if she was a monster, she should know better.

“I know who I am,” he rasped to the unseen child. “I’m a traitor to the Guard. I betrayed the Princesses. Oathbreakers deserve no name. You should not have visited me this evening and brought my shame on you. Begone.”

“But—” started Peanut.

“No,” he managed.

“They’re taking you away,” blurted out Peanut through a quiet sniffle. “Mama says they’re going to take you all the way to Manehattan to a big hospital there and rehabiliityate you and we’ll never see you again and the Sun Princess said so.”

“Good.” He shuddered against the cold metal bed rail. “Her sister made me into a monster. Send me away so I can die in peace.”

Finally, the little pest got the message and fled, leaving a fading trail of sobs in her wake.

The halls of the Grand Palace are guarded well by the Royal Guard, but nowhere is that cordon of steel woven tighter than the Royal Towers where the Two Sisters reside. It is a special honor among the competitive ponies who have ascended to that special task, and they hold to their duties with great sincerity. There were six ponies in Princess Luna’s protective detail this evening, all collected from the regular ranks in a relative rush when the regular batwinged Nightguards were sent to other tasks. Unicorns walked the hallways while earth ponies stood guard at Princess Luna’s door and pegasi kept sharp watch on any window.

Against them was one small child on a mission.

They didn’t stand a chance.

And an hour later, when Princess Luna found the letter slipped under her door, not a one of them had any idea how it got there.

8. Permission Letter

The Last Nightguard
Permission Letter

“Travel for all guardmembers must be approved two weeks in advance by a commanding officer and the travel office of the respective branch. Advance disbursements of pay may be permitted for miscellaneous personal expenses, not to exceed two weeks pay or one hundred bits. Per diam rates during official travel may be found in the following table, depending on the destination…”
—Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume Four

It took some time, but all of the preparations were finalized. The patient was going to the most exclusive hospital on the east coast of Equestria by way of an express train and a special car staffed and equipped for the journey. Doctor Hurwitz was looking forward to the project, and the most certainly unique paper that was going to result. Physicians for centuries would be referencing his work on rehabilitating damaged organs, even if his patient eventually passed away. Honestly, he had not expected the withered stallion to last nearly this long, and he probably would not survive a week in Manehattan now that he had stopped eating totally.

Normally, Doctor Hurwitz would have organized the transport in the middle of the night, but Princess Luna had an unexpected tendency to wander the palace in the shadows. Dawn had been determined to be the best time for the first stage of the transfer, and two husky orderlies had already begun preparations, or at least that’s what the doctor expected when he arrived.

“Princess Luna!” he managed rather than an alarmed scream. The former Nightmare Moon still frightened him, although he had managed to conceal it from the rest of his staff who thought she was the most amazing creature in Canterlot. The two orderlies seemed to be on her ‘worshiping’ team with the degree of awed respect they were paying the restored Princess of the Moon. Luna was not returning the admiration in the slightest.

“Doctor Hurwitz,” she began with a voice as cold as the arctic winds. “What do you think you are doing with my Guard?” Without even pausing for a response, she sharply continued, “Your servants claim that We are not permitted to see him. As your Princess of the Night, We have no need for their presence, and they are permitted to depart. Now.”

They went. Fast, and without a backward glance.

“Your Highness—” managed Hurwitz before those cold teal eyes shifted to his face, and his words instantly froze in his mouth.

“Exactly,” said Luna. “I am your Dire Sovereign. My word is law. To defy me is death.”

“Dea—?” The worst punishment that Princess Celestia had ever inflicted on somepony who obstructed her will was a stern lecture. Then again, he had read the secret reports on the Royal Sisters and their final fight. Nightmare Moon had slain so many in her last minutes a thousand years ago… It was unthinkable for his modern mind.

He was certainly thinking of it now, right down to the nervous muscles controlling his sphincters.

“You will remove yourself from my presence,” continued Princess Luna. “You will visit my Guard once per day for whatever treatments he may need. We shall be responsible for his nightly care. You will report to Us when you visit. You will use plain, simple words. You shall not deceive me by commission or omission again. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Your Highness.” Doctor Hurwitz had very little interest in adding any more words, but he had to ask, “And the patient’s transfer?”

“Is no longer needed. You are dismissed until tomorrow evening.”

The doctor’s hooves had carried him halfway down the corridor before he could stop himself and ask, “Will my nurses—”

“They are not needed,” stated Luna flatly.

Without another word, the moon princess turned and walked into the patient’s room.

Eb was prepared to die. He did not belong in this strange world filled with terrible things. They could not make him live if he did not eat. All the fel magic racing through his veins would not sustain him if he starved to death. Everything familiar and welcome to him was dead anyway, and to greet his wife and children on the Great Plain of the Shadowlands would be a reunion long delayed. No other creature knew what it was like to be plucked from their world and returned when everypony had been turned to dust by the ages several times over. No monstrous children, no doctors, no pony in Equestria was going to stop him.

The door to his room creaked open, then closed again. There had been some sort of muffling spell out in the hallway that kept him from hearing what was being discussed, but not by who.

“Nightmare,” he growled.

“Once,” said Princess Luna as she emerged into a pool of sunlight cast by the small window in his cell. “Perhaps once again. If so, I will need…”

The meek princess was so different than the confident, brash Luna of his experience. All of the gloss and false fronts seemed to be stripped away, and the resulting princess was far more naked to his eyes than if she had been as hairless as himself.

“They all love me,” she whispered. “Those who don’t, fear me. Even my own sister quakes in terror at what I could become again, but she loves me so much I can feel it clog my pores like some loathesome disease! I nearly destroyed all of Equestria with my petty tantrums, I murdered our Nightguard, and slayed many, many others. I made monsters out of those who loved me, and drew their life away in a futile attempt to save my own. They are all dead now, dead and gone to where even history cannot find them.”

“Not all,” growled Eb despite himself.

“No.” Luna took a short breath while looking at the cold tile floor of the hospital room. “Celestia cannot find it in her heart to hate me as I deserve. She thinks I can be forgiven for my terrible crimes, and the servants echo her hope as the moon doth reflect the sun. There is only one pony in this entire star-forsaken world who hates me, despises me to the depths of their heart, and that’s you.”

“Die!” managed Eb through the gritting of emerging teeth which had cut their way through his tender gums.

“Exactly.” Luna smiled in a way that did not reach her cold teal eyes, and once again, a princess stood tall in the room. “As long as you live, there is one who hates me for what I have done. Somepony who will not forget, who holds my crimes as unforgivable. One stable point in my new life, who will always tell the truth about my unworthiness. Somepony who understands what monstrous acts I have committed, and will not grant me mercy.”

“You should leave me here to rot,” he rasped. “I would be dead, and your precious feelings would not be injured.”

“I would rather hear you say you will not rest until you have torn my throat out and my body is a feast for the birds,” said Luna slowly. She moved from where she had been standing, placed her neck across his mouth, and whispered into his ear, “Do it. Slay me. You said it yourself. I do not deserve to live. Strike, and wreak vengeance upon me for the honor of your dead.”

As much as he wanted to close his jaws and tear out the warm vessels he could feel pulsing beneath his tender gums, Eb turned his head and licked away the coppery taste of his own blood. “It is not the right time.”

“As I surmised,” said Luna as she returned to her previous position. “You are weak, far moreso than I was when the Elements returned me to this mortal coil. If you do not eat as the doctors commanded, you will perish, and who will the spirits of the slain task to exact their revenge upon me then?”

“I’ll kill you when I recover,” rasped Eb. “I shall get out of this bed and paint the walls with your blood.”

“My blood will make poor paint,” said Luna. She lit up her horn, picked up the spoon, and moved it in front of his nose. “As for the painter, he can scarcely feed himself or clean up his messes. This I will do, in order to show the foolishness of your premature actions. Now, eat. Your Princess commands it.”

“You know I’ll kill you in the end,” rasped Eb, heaving himself over onto his side. “I’ll get my hooves around your neck and…” Words failed him as his dry throat collapsed, leaving him gasping over the bedrail until a glass of water was thrust against his face.

“Drink,” commanded Luna. “Drink and live, Nightguard. I am ordering you not to die until I give you leave. You will eat the food from this house of healing, drink their disgusting potions, and consume their vile pills. You will rise from your bed to stand by my side in this strange world. Then and only then, when the time comes for you to complete your final task, We shall grant you permission. Now, drink!”

He drank, with additional glares at his unusual nurse until the glass was empty.

Morning in a hospital is an uncomfortable time. The goal of the staff—at least from the patient’s point of view—seems to be keeping any of their patients from getting any kind of rest. There are pills to be given and temperatures to be taken, brief visits by unknown physicians that show up as hundreds of bits on the bill weeks later, and the inevitable hospital food, delivered cold.

Marigold was the lowest of nurses in the hospital wing, having barely worked there over a month, and rotated in from Canterlot General on what was generally called the Boredom Brigade. Since the palace medical facility only handled the local staff and occasional discreet VIP visit from a diplomat who did not want to be seen having something embarrassing removed, there were normally more staff than patients by a substantial margin.

Then Princess Luna had returned to Canterlot.

Immediately, the palace position became sought-after, and Marigold had been offered quite a stack of bits to transfer out. The thing was she liked the palace, and thought it would be a good way to meet Equestria’s newest princess in an informal setting, like when she got her immunizations or physical exam. And maybe an autograph. Or two, so she could give one to her mother.

Weaving her way down the corridor between patrolling guards did not set Marigold’s heart at ease. Neither did coming to the door and pushing her cart between the two bulky earth pony guards, or the relative darkness of the room beyond. If they were going to keep Princess Luna’s newest nocturne pegasus in some dark cave, they should have gotten one of the nocturne nurses to serve breakfast. Still, it was Princess Luna’s decision, and Marigold was just so overjoyed that Princess Celestia’s sister had been rescued from the moon that anything she wanted to do was just fine.

“Princess Luna?” put forward Marigold into the darkness. “I brought Mister Ebon Tide’s breakfast. And I’ve got some paperwork we need to complete. Hello?”

Two sets of eyes appeared out of the darkness, one cold teal and one golden as a pair of bits.

“Eeek! I mean, Your Highness,” managed Marigold as her eyes adjusted to the relative gloom. “I’ll just open up the curtains and get Ebon Tide’s breakfast started.”

A gentle touch of magic stopped Marigold on her way to the window pullstrings, and she turned to face Princess Luna’s scowl.

“I shall feed my Guard,” she announced. “As for the parchment, send it to the Royal Clerks.”

“But…” Marigold grabbed for the papers and a pencil. “We need to know your immunization history, so we can set up your shots.”

“Shots?” said Princess Luna. “Immunizations?”

“Of course,” said Marigold, then pausing. “Oh. Thousand years. Yes. I suppose we should set you up for the whole series. And your Guard. That certainly simplifies the paperwork.”

“If there is nothing else?” said Luna.

It did not seem like a very opportune time to get the autograph she wanted, so Marigold bobbed her head and backed out of the room.

“What are immunizations?” asked Luna once the two of them were alone again.

“How should I know?” growled Eb. “You’re the know-it-all Princess of Darkness.”

“Shut up,” growled Luna. She grabbed the bowl of oatmeal in her magic and dipped in a spoon. “Now, open up.”

Reluctantly, Eb opened his mouth and let the first spoonful inside. He chewed silently, but remained with mouth stubbornly closed when the second spoon approached.

“It is my order,” said Luna. “Open up and eat.”

“I’d rather die,” growled Eb from between clenched gums. “One more of those will kill me.”

“Child.” Luna popped the spoon inside her own mouth and chewed, rapidly at first, then slowing until she spat out the messy glob on the paperwork still placed on the breakfast cart. “Is that perchance glue of some sort?” she mused, giving the remainder of the bowl a reluctant prod.

“I’ve had worse,” admitted Eb through the sticky remains of his mouthful. “Barracks chow. Two… no, three years before. Eggs had turned. Entire cohort was vomiting when we left on patrol.”

“We were not informed,” said Luna, who had turned to using the spoon to scrape her tongue. “Those responsible should be—”

“Dead,” said Ebon Tide, which stopped Luna’s tongue scraping cold. She silently stood up and pushed the breakfast cart out into the hallway. Ebon Tide occupied his time by rolling back on his side and turning his back to the quiet alicorn. He remained there for a while, trying to ignore everything, including the memories that floated up despite his best efforts. He could still see their faces, and expected at any moment to have his old commander stomp into the room with bellowed demands that he get up and go back to work.

There was just one problem.

He rolled over and looked at the bedside table, which had two glasses of something on it. One was white and one orange, and both were being eyed rather suspiciously by Princess Luna, who had returned while he was brooding.

“This world doth vex me,” she muttered. “Divers fruits and nuts previously unknown to ponykind doth abound upon the Royal Table, and there are no end of sauces and dips for the few we still know. And the fluids hath become so wild and strange. One of the servants asked if I would like a Manehattan yesterday. When I asked why I would wish a drink named after that muddy little river fort, he laughed.” She sniffed at the two glasses, then passed him the white one. “Drink. Your Princess of the Night requires it.”

Since the remainder of the gluey oatmeal had set up like plaster in the back of his throat, he could not speak up to object. Still, it only took a short sip before he spat it out and coughed. “Milk!”

“Milk?” echoed Princess Luna. She gave the glass an additional sniff and a tiny sip of her own. “Verily, it is. Are my injured Guards babes now, to be fed from the teats of new mothers? Here.” She floated over the glass of orange juice and waited for him to take a sip.

It irked Eb to be used as a food taster, and the sweetness of the beverage made it easy for him to drink it down until he reached the very bottom of the glass. “Oranges,” he said vindictively after taking a gasping breath.

“They would fain give you that vile substance disguised as oatmeal, and yet add a precious glass of our squezen oranges.” Luna stuck her nose into the glass and sniffed. “They even removed the pulp and seeds. The Royal Table had to contend with both during our time.”

Ebon shuddered, partially from the huge amount of rare orange squeezings he had swallowed into his shrunken stomach, but more for the memories that flooded in. His wife had at least gone to the Shadowlands long before his spectacular failure, so she did not witness it, but their children…

His mind kept drifting back to the three monstrous children who had visited his bed. They appeared too innocent to be real monsters, but children were often more monstrous than adults realized. The paper Peanut had brought rustled against his head, and he stuffed it further under his pillow before Princess Luna noticed. If he opened it and saw his name, this place would become real, and there would be no chance he was simply having some sort of terrible nightmare.

Unfortunately, there was something important that fairly proved he was not having a nightmare of any type.

“Princess Luna,” growled Ebon Tide. “Leave and send in the nurse.”

“No.”

Eb ground the stubs of his growing teeth. “Please.”

“Is there something about this simple word which perplexes Our Guard?”

Rolling over onto his back, Eb locked eyes with the moon princess. “I need a bedpan. Please leave and send for a nurse.”

“Beds have a pan?” asked Luna with a curious expression. “Why would you need— Oh! Another new word for this blasted new era. What is it?”

“It is a pan,” said Eb flatly, “which is placed under my fundament, so that I may piss into it.”

The look on Princess Luna’s face was indescribable, but Eb planned on remembering it for as long as he lived. “A pan,” she repeated.

A faint cool breeze blew across Eb’s exposed belly, which had no fur to protect it from the chill or Princess Luna’s gaze. He flopped over on his belly with one swift motion far faster than he had thought possible, and tucked the stub of his hairless tail against his bare buns.

“That would be a more comfortable way for a stallion to urinate than dragging yourself across the floor to these new modern jakes,” mused Princess Luna. There was a familiar clatter of metal from a nearby cabinet, and she continued to mutter, “What strange vessels these be. This is far too small, and this… We presume it is for soaking a sore rear. Hm… So one of the odd tubes that I removed on my first visit took care of removing thy piss? Was it not uncomfortable?”

His first instinct was to snap a cross and quite obscene response, but despite being evil, Princess Luna was still his princess, so Ebon Tide modified his answer to a growled, “Yes, Your Highness. I could scarcely tell through my medications, but what I could sense was anything but pleasurable.”

Biding one’s time before killing an unspeakably evil foe was easier when one was not hairless, with your foe rummaging through a collection of waste-collection crockery. Eb would have rather died before allowing a princess to slide the cold bedpan under his bare belly, and could not go through with the next step, no matter how much he needed the relief.

“Do We need to make that an order?” asked Princess Luna after an embarrassing wait. “And here We thought Our Guards were able to do great feats merely out of their sense of loyalty. We shall await your accomplishment in the room’s jakes, for the need is mutual.”

Some time later, she emerged, with a more suitable solemnity to her words. “Miracles upon miracles lie in these strange times. Lift, please. To have a water closet was the mark of royalty in our times, and now every room seems to have one, scented with rose petals and scrubbed clean enough to sparkle.” The Princess of the Pot vanished back into the bathroom, as the nurses had called it, only to return again.

“Wash,” he growled. “Every pestilent time the churgeons visit, they insist on a proper ablution, with soap. If my hair had not fallen out already, they would have scrubbed me naked within hours of flinging me in this hellish pit. If they must—”

“—then so must I,” finished Luna, turning back to the small room. “Certes, it doth make the air easier to breathe, although the expenses for soap must be gigantic. The water, not so much, as Canterlot hath a wild abundance.”

“Canterlot?” growled Eb with the feeling of yet another supporting timber of his mind being gnawed away. “What of the Castle of the Two Sisters? Are we at war, and forced to retreat to the mountain fastness? How can they have such finery prepared for us in a time of siege?”

“We are at peace,” said Princess Luna very quietly as she put the cleaned pot away. “As all who I have asked have been more than overjoyed to state. All of the races of Equestria who hungered for pony blood have become allies, and the worst threats remain locked away forever.”

“Discord?” asked Eb in wonderment. “The Demon-King Sombra who swore to return? The mysterious Pony of Shadows which Starswirl would opine upon for hours if given the opportunity? The Sirens and Changelings?” He gave out a mirthless huff of breath. “How it must burn beneath your breast to learn that your hated sister accomplished so much without you at her side. It must call out to the Nightmare within you.”

“Quite to the contrary,” stated Princess Luna. “I rejoice that the foals of Equestria no longer need fear the sound of wings in the darkness. I am overjoyed that the griffons which I have met in the halls of this vast gilded palace are overfed and placid, not the razor-edged foes of our time.”

Ebon regarded Princess Luna for a time before curling up away from her. “Liar,” he muttered.

He had not intended to sleep, but with an empty bladder and a belly full of orange juice, his intentions had no impact on reality. The faint bump of another cart at his hospital room door brought Eb out of his drowsy state, although not exactly to alertness.

“I’m sorry!” squeaked the chubby nurse. “I didn’t know it would take this long, but the Grand Chef put together the same breakfast assortment as Princess Celestia gets every morning.” Her reddish eyes flickered sideways to Ebon Tide, and the nurse took another breath. “I can stay here and feed the patient, Your Highness, if you want—”

“No,” said Princess Luna, and by the time the small word had finished being said, the nurse had already darted out of the door in a blur of orange, leaving the overstuffed cart behind.

“This is what Princess Celestia eats for breakfast?” asked Eb. “I know why she’s so large now.”

“Restrain yourself,” said Princess Luna flatly. “Sarcastic humor about my sister’s immense rear end tis my bailiwick. Still…” A fork grasped in Luna’s teal magic wandered over the collection of breakfast items, making halfhearted jabs at various pastries or fruit items. Eb wanted to say something suitably acerbic about her decision-making process, or lack thereof, but he likewise was at a total loss at where to begin, or what most of it was.

“Apple slices,” he said finally, pointing his hoof. “Without teeth, they must be for you.”

“Were they the only thing here, I would chew them for you,” said Princess Luna. “As it is… they are all I recognize.”

There was a vindictive joy in seeing Nightmare Moon brought to this level of frustration by a simple breakfast, matched by a sucking chasm in his own heart at being so cast away from his life that even food had become a stranger. The balance was tipped by a growling under his ribs, indicating that a single glass of squozen oranges in the past was not sufficient to fuel his recovery in the present.

“You are the Princess of the Night,” he growled. “Call forth to thy servants and force them to return, so they may enlighten us to the contents of this modern breakfast.”

“Speak not to your Princess of the Night in that casual fashion, and know your place,” snapped Luna right back.

“Beg pardon, Your Highness,” responded Eb. He was trying to bite back his sharp response, but his gums ached, and he was getting hungry, in the same way a wolf sought the warm neck of a defenseless creature. Teeth would be useful in that regard, but without them, he could still use the same sharp mind that had served him well in the Guard.

“I require a sheet, Your Highness,” said Eb.

Crupper was used to receiving despairing looks from Lieutenant Shining Armor, while Captain Ramparts barely acknowledged his existence. Most of the other guards had started calling him Bear because he was constantly ‘barely’ passing whatever tasks were assigned to him, including scholastic tests. With Shining Armor and Ramparts both out of the palace, Crupper was comfortably relaxing into his old ways, and there was no better place to be schluffing off than with his rump up against the wall in the dark, next to a door that most probably would not be opened until—

“Command Officer!” snapped out a rough but still decisive voice. “Report, at once!”

Crupper’s mind froze. There was no such thing as a ‘Command Officer’ in the Royal Guard, but Princess Luna was in the hospital room, so he had to do something other than remaining stationary. He burst into the dark room and snapped a sharp wing salute, looking around for—

Two sets of glowering eyes met his, and Crupper’s body promptly froze up just as solidly as his mind. ‘Princess’ in his experience had always been associated with tall and airy beauties who never looked at him, while the Night Guards were always insular and stuck to their own kind. This nocturnal pegasus looked like a nightmarish parody of a pony, almost completely hairless on his head with the rest of his body wrapped in a hospital sheet. His golden eyes glowed with unrestrained power, and thin lips curled back in the reddish snarl of a hungry carnivore.

“So, you’re what passes for a Royal Guard now,” it sneered. “What is your name?”

“Specialist Crupper, First House Regiment,” managed Crupper, still frozen with one wing against his helmet.

“Ebon Tide, Warleader of the Third Cohort of the Nightguard,” snarled the terrifying guard. “Armor unshined, unpreened, mane cut far too long, slouching while at attention. Did you even verify the identity of the nurse who brought this?” he added with a wave at the overstuffed breakfast cart.

“She’s my second cousin,” blurted out Crupper. “I’ve known her since we were foals.”

The monstrosity smiled with bare hints of white amidst his blood-red gums, and somehow that made it far worse. “One tiny point of competence among endless failures. Did you inspect the contents of this device? Do you even know what they are, or if they’ve been tampered with? Your Princess of the Night is right here! How do you know this...” He trailed off with one dark hoof pointed at a bowl of pudding.

“Tapioca!” blurted out Crupper. “It’s poisonous if uncooked, but—”

“Let’s see you try it,” snarled Ebon Tide. He watched carefully as Crupper fumbled for a spoon, then took a small bite.

“It’s got more cinnamon in it than I like,” he admitted, “but Chef Absolum has a heavy hoof on the spice rack.”

“And this,” stated Ebon Tide, moving his hoof to point at the next dish.

“Vanilla pudding,” he said after a quick sampling.

“Chocolate fudge,” he reported on the next.

To be honest, food taster was Crupper’s dream job: being paid to eat. That dream was rapidly becoming a nightmare under the keen eyes of both a silent princess and a Royal Guard who outranked him by seniority on everything. Sweat had begun to trickle down his wingpits by the time he reached the last dish, and was absolutely positive he had screwed up the identity of at least half of them.

“Acceptable,” said the devilish monster. He sagged back onto the bed and waved one hoof at the door. “Twelve demerits, one month extra duty in the kitchens learning how to recognize adulterations to any foodstuffs, and I expect to speak with your commander regarding your abject lack of discipline and personal hygiene. Dismissed!”

“Thank you, sir!” managed Crupper with as sharp of a salute as he was able while scrambling backwards to get out of the room, almost taking wing out in the corridor despite the narrow space.

* * *

“That disgusting blob was supposed to be a soldier.” Ebon Tide flopped down on his sinfully soft bed and closed his eyes. “It’s no wonder we’re at peace. All the other races must have conquered us already.”

After a period of time with no answer, he opened one eye, only to find Princess Luna licking the bottom of one of the breakfast bowls in a frightful violation of Royal etiquette. “C’ocolate,” she explained after licking the bowl to immaculate cleanliness.

“How can you eat that without your hair catching on fire?” mused Eb.

“No peppers.” A very long princess-tongue explored for any leftover drips and Luna continued when she was done, “Sugar. Possibly milk.”

He grunted in response, since Eb had run out of energy to complain. His objection did not rise to keeping his mouth closed when a spoonful of pudding bumped up against his lips, or to half-chew/half-swallow the resulting substance.

“Sweet Peas?” he managed around a third spoon.

“Tapioca,” said Luna cheerfully. “The lumps are portions of the poisonous root, which Speculus Crupper seems to think were rendered harmless by cooking. We would appreciate your opinion in this matter.”

Several bites later as Luna scraped the bottom of the bowl for one last spoonful, Eb had to admit, “If I am killed by a breakfast food after spending a thousand years imprisoned in the moon, I do not deserve to live. Still, I find it pleasurable, and not completely unfathomable why the ponies of this modern age might risk their lives for this food.”

After that significant effort, it just seemed easier to put his head down and allow sleep to claim him.

9. Learning Experience

The Last Nightguard
Learning Experience

“Educational opportunities for guardmembers are provided through the training office, although external training courses may be taken through approved Crown educational institutions in any deployed area, with approval of your superior officer. Reimbursement for such training is limited by the following chart…”
—Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume Three

One simple sheet restored a certain fraction of dignity that Eb had feared lost forever when he had grown used to being sprawled out across a hospital bed, hairless, and otherwise naked under the direct observation of a princess. It was a very small fraction, but it kept his simmering fury of vengeance from breaking out in goosepimples with every draft of wind.

His hatred of Nightmare Moon continued undaunted, although he could feel it slip away with every hour of fitful slumber. When your whole world is nothing but a thousand years of a single thought, one screaming eternal thread of unspeakable agony, and that thread is suddenly cut, the tension recoils like a snapped clock mainspring. The shredded clockwork of his life filled Ebon Tide’s head throughout the remainder of the day, with occasional breaks as he woke enough to be fed or relieve himself.

Hatred was one thing. Hating the creature who was feeding you and applying a cold bedpan to your under-furred belly…

“You are a loathsome traitor,” muttered Ebon from under the fringe of his sheet.

“Truth,” agreed Princess Luna. She looked over the new tray of foodstuff which had just been delivered to his hospital room, and which had woken him up when it had been pushed into the room. The nurse had beaten a fairly rapid retreat or Ebon would not have spoken so freely in front of a witness. He allowed more pudding to be spooned into his mouth, determined that he would only taste ashes and vengeance, but it seemed to be some sort of egg-based whip with colorful topping.

“Is every bit of food in this pestilent era covered in sugar?” he grumbled once the bowl was empty.

Without saying a word, Luna speared a piece of some sort of pastry with a serving fork, then held it to his lips. From the look of it, the substance needed to be chewed with the small stubs of teeth that he had begun to grow through pain and itching, but one bite and it dissolved onto his tongue, filling his entire mouth with a slimy coating that left Eb coughing until Luna gave him some water.

“What deception is this,” he managed between coughs, “that something sweeter than sweetness hath such a cloying touch that it strangles the mouth? ‘Tis a sugar’s sugar cloaked in disguise.”

“My sister calls it cake,” said Luna, observing a second forkful of the substance with considerable skepticism. “I call it flank padding. And yet, if you eat a little of it with every meal, one begins to anticipate it, and eventually I presume it becomes a requirement.” She dropped the fork on the tray with a clatter and turned her head. Even from his awkward placement on the bed, Ebon could see the beginning of twilight outside the window, and it became obvious what the princess was avoiding.

“The hour of Night approaches,” he growled. “Why are you not at your task, Princess?”

The way the late sunshine reflected off her coat made it obvious that Luna flinched. The washed-out colors shifted in long ripples along her flanks, and her eyes definitely remained fixed upon the sugar-laden tray. “My sister has accomplished the task for many years in my absence. I have a responsibility to your care.”

“Thy responsibility is to Equestria. I am a pathetic excuse. Even the least of the timorous creatures who populate this place of healing could stick a tin pot under my belly and stuff sugar into my face.”

The fire under Eb’s ribs only flared as Luna ignored him. He breathed in through bared gums and the faint gritting of growing teeth, enjoying the cold air against the itch and pain.

“Coward,” he snarled. “You are no princess.”

“I am no coward.” Luna’s voice was flat and tense.

“Then why do you hide? Rise to your destiny! Night approaches, and your place is to raise the moon!” Eb had pulled himself to the side of the bed and leaned out over the tray of over-sugared food, ignoring how bits of his bloody spittle were flying as he shouted.

“Your sister stands in your place as you hide here, quaking in terror. Why would you need my assistance to take your worthless life if you give yourself to Nightmare again? You refuse to raise more than a spoon! Even the Nightmare would turn its nose up at your pathetic—”

“ENOUGH!” Luna stood up with one motion, upending the full dinner tray onto the ground with the shattering of ceramic dishes and splash of wasted food. She turned and left the hospital room in several swift strides, letting the door close silently behind her.

The swirling boil of anger that supported Ebon Tide proved to be a fickle master. He sagged back onto the bed, gasping for breath after his unexpected effort while a nervous nurse poked her nose into the room.

“I heard—” she started, only to break off at Eb’s fierce glare.

“Princess Luna hath departed to raise the moon,” he managed. “Clean this mess so she is not faced with a menial task upon her return.”

* * ☾ * *

Without the sound of the crier walking his patrol, it was nearly impossible for Eb to tell the time, only that the veil of Night had fallen outside his window, and the nurses scurried outside his door like rats terrified of the toothless cat within. The room was an empty tomb, devoid of living creatures with only the echoes of unknown activity outside. When the sound of the door disturbed his fitful sleep, Eb was unsure if he was grateful or enraged at the interruption.

“Well,” he growled. “It took you long enough.”

“I had to wait until Mama wasn’t looking,” came a very quiet voice in return. There was a faint clatter of small hooves on the hospital tile, then Peanut popped her head up at his bedside. The little yellow-eyed monster looked hopeful, and perhaps a little worried, which cast his inner self into storm clouds of turmoil. He was all prepared to shout at Luna again, to rage at her incompetence and cowardice, and to have a child step into his line of fire and quench that release of his concealed anger was… troubling.

“I didn’t expect you,” admitted Eb in a dramatic understatement of epic proportions.

“Mama said they didn’t expect my little brother either,” said Peanut. “I asked if they could send him back, but they said no.” The little bat-winged monster looked around the room and her furry ears drooped. “I guess Princess Luna said no too.”

“No to what?” asked Eb.

“I wrote her a note,” admitted Peanut. “Since you were feeling so bad, I thought Princess Luna could stop by and cheer you up. I mean she’s really old and you’re really old, and old ponies like to talk to each other a lot.”

Eb was beyond words. The air in the room sucked out of his lungs and he could feel the bed ever so slowly begin to rotate underneath him. He should have been incoherently furious, but he could not muster his rage against a child, in particular one so young and innocent in demeanor. He could not even swallow the bile creeping up his throat, but he did manage to croak, “A note?”

“Yeah.” Peanut rested her chin on his mattress. “Like we do in school. You know, with all the commas in the right spot and not many pictures scribbled in the margins. Dear Princess Celestia. Only this was for Princess Luna.” She paused with a panicked expression. “Or at least I think I wrote Princess Luna.”

“She visited, so you must have scribed her name correctly,” admitted Eb once he had managed to recover slightly, trying to picture the Princess of the Night politely receiving the little monster’s letter and patting her on the head like a puppy. “She has been a fairly constant companion since your visit. She is not here now, because she departed to raise the moon, as is her duty.”

“Cool,” breathed the little batpony with wide eyes and a sharp reversal of her previous droop.

“To be honest, I expected her back by now,” continued Eb, who still felt revolted at having a princess take care of his bodily waste disposal, but the need was beginning to grow the longer he thought about it. “It is good of you to visit, but I require a nurse now. Please, go get one.”

“I… kinda snuck in,” admitted Peanut. “There’s a nurse at the end of the hall who likes to talk with the guard, but if I go tell her, I’ll get into trouble. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“The Nightguards of this era are incompentent fools,” snapped Ebon Tide, biting back any further criticism at the startled expression on Peanut’s face.

He could merely send the child away and then kick up a fuss loud enough for the nurse to be alerted, but he despised the thought of being treated like a disobedient toddler, or worse, a doddering old fossil. Far worse would be requiring the innocent youngster to fetch the bedpan in Luna’s stead.

If I stay here, I will wet the bed or worse.

“I need to use the jakes,” he snapped under his breath instead. “If you would support me, I believe I can make it on my own.”

“The jakes? Oh, the bathroom!” Peanut vanished from the edge of his bed and began to poke something underneath. “My mama taught me how to use the pedals. This one here lowers the bed so it’s easier to—”

The bed lurched and tilted, making Ebon Tide slide to the bottom and tumble to the floor. Thankfully, he had not fallen far, and his wings had opened instinctively to brake his speed, although it took him a few minutes to get the unfamiliar membranous appendages tucked back where they belonged once he struggled upright.

“Oops,” declared Peanut. “Maybe it’s this pedal.”

The bed tilted the other way, narrowly missing Ebon Tide’s head as it returned to horizontal. He was beginning to get a feel for the way disaster followed the little monster, so Eb managed to push himself away from the bed just a moment before Peanut’s hoof found one more lever and the whole bed dropped like a rock, missing Eb’s stubby tail by a small fraction.

“I lived through a thousand years of exile with the Nightmare,” he muttered just under his breath, trying to recover from his near-death experiences. “And I’m going to get killed by a child inside of a hospital.”

“There,” declared Peanut. “It’s at the bottom of the piston, so I can just pump it up when you get back on it. My brother and me used to play on the beds last year, until mama found out.”

It galled Ebon Tide to say the word, but it would have been a worse embarrassment to lie on the floor in a puddle of his own urine, so he bit back his anger and said, “Help.”

“Oh! Yeah, you need help walking since you’re so old. I’ll get underneath and—”

“No!” snapped Eb. The disgusting thought of being astride a young filly like some demented pervert drove energy into his shriveled muscles, and he heaved himself up, bracing his wobbling legs beneath him like wriggling worms. “Lean against me,” he commanded. “It is a short walk.”

It was a lie. The distance between his bed and the gleaming light in the jakes was further than he had ever walked before, even during the worst of forced marches with full pack and weapons. The only thing that kept him upright instead of collapsing was Peanut, and her most likely response to the inevitable disgrace of his bladder failure. By some miracle, he managed to reach the distant facility and ease his rear onto the porcelain device before release, although he was still intensely embarrassed at having the child in the room.

“Shoo,” he muttered.

“But what about your trip back to the bed?” asked Peanut.

“That will be a while.” A second urge overcame Ebon Tide, and he tensed up with the faint plop of poop into the modern jake. “I have not had a bowel movement since entering the hospital,” he admitted to cover his embarrassment. “I feel as if I have a belly filled with ancient gravel. When I am done, however long that takes, I will call for the nurse.”

“Mama says you need to stay hi-drated when you’re sick,” said Peanut. She stood on the tips of her hind hooves and manipulated the sink to produce a glass of water, something which still baffled Eb with the complexity and expense of the marvel. The convenience was extraordinary, but still…

“Water,” said Eb, taking a drink and luxuriating in the crisp, cold sensation. There was no sand spread across the bottom or insect corpses floating in it, but it still felt strange not to have it boiled or mixed with beer in order to keep from succumbing to the trots or bloody stools. The ‘glass’ was yet another modern world wonder, being made out of what looked like paper and coated with a waxy substance so it would not dissolve. “I appreciate the gesture. This is not the water of my era. The food likewise…” He shook his head, feeling the chill breeze across the back of his neck where his growing hairs had barely gotten to a thin stubble. “It is so strange.”

“I know what you mean.” Peanut turned and looked away, giving him a tiny margin of privacy to do his pooping without observation. “When I’m sick, mama brings me familiar food. You’ve probably got a bazillion things that you can’t find anymore, like— Oh!”

With the velocity of a sling bullet, the monstrous child darted to the door, paused to peer out into the hallway, and was gone.

* * ☾ * *

Luna was happy. She did not deserve to be happy, or want to be happy, or intend in any way to be happy, but in some small and unexpected way, she had become happy by way of circumstance.

It might have started when she showed up at Celestia’s balcony, where the sun had been resting on the horizon like an exhausted soldier after a long march. It needed to be put to rest so Night could emerge, but her sister had simply been sitting there staring without moving until Luna moved up by her side.

“Is it stuck?” she asked by reflex, in the ancient jest the two alicorns had shared through many, many twilights and dusks.

Celestia had nearly fallen over. She scrambled around as if her mind had been a thousand furlongs away, and even stepped on her own tail in the process. “Luna,” she managed after a long moment of staring.

It would have been so easy to snark something about being glad she still recognized her sister after so long, or make a bitter comment about exceeding her allotted time. Instead, Luna had kept her mouth shut and just waited. Eventually, after a few aborted attempts by Celestia to shape words of her own, the enormous rear ever so gently touched down next to Luna’s seat, and the two sisters sat side-by-side once again.

The sun went down.

The moon went up.

And that was it.

No more. No less.

Luna had been terrified that she would be unable to control her beloved moon after so long, that it would have grown so accustomed to Celestia’s touch that it would refuse to move, that it would pull her back inside of it for another thousand years.

All that terror shorted away with a single presence, leaving not even wisps of fear.

She could not, dared not say a single word. Not about their last fight, her terror for a thousand years in the moon, the poor stallion she had subjected to her will in order to prevent any more deaths on her tattered conscience. As long as she remained still and Celestia remained still, they had once again what Luna had feared was forever lost. It was a feeling she had missed without realizing it, and she was so entranced by the sensation…

…she fell asleep.

* * *

It was late at night by the time Luna made it back to the hospital wing of the palace, all wrong turns and corridors that looked different in the shadows. The echo of Nightmare Moon felt far away for a change, replaced by a permanent glow of worldly joy that nothing could dampen.

Not even Ebon Tide.

She had placed far too much of her magic into the crippled stallion, mixed with her spite and anger. The first thing she needed to do when returning to his room was to tap a certain amount of that dark magic out of him, leaving only a token quantity to assist his slower healing progress. Perhaps he would be better cared for in a facility that was more specialized to his injuries. Doctor Hurwitz had said the colony of Manehattan had a medical training facility that was the best in the entire pony world, which just had to be better than the treatment he was getting in the palace. After all, the medical professionals here had not applied a single herbal poultice to the poor stallion, or even bled him for more than a few tiny vials.

Entrance into the hospital room was accomplished with all the grace and silence of a princess, which she promptly broke with a panicked gasp when she saw the bed was empty.

“I’m in here, nurse,” came a voice from the jakes. “Give me a few drips of the clock to finish.”

“Oh.” Luna did not want to admit her own momentary fright, but the sound of Ebon’s forlorn reply made her divert the topic by adding, “The day after I returned, I didst place such a lump of stone into my jake that I stopped it up and the water overflowed.”

There was another small, subdued plop. “No danger of that, Your Highness. I have a bellyful of gravel.”

She found his jest far funnier than expected, and drifted over to the window in order to distract her mirth with the distant dance of her beloved stars. After all, it would not do for a princess to laugh out loud at such a crude jab from one below her station. She could repeat it to Celestia tomorrow when it was time to raise the sun and lower her moon. Her sister would laugh. It would be good to hear her laugh again.

Luna could still feel the feathery touch of Celestia’s wing across her back from where they sat for hours, looking up at the stars without saying a word. Well, if you did not count snoring. Luna tried not to admit that she snored, but it was one of the things that came with being an alicorn long ago, so she learned to accept it.

Acceptance of her current lot was far more difficult, and became harder the longer she thought about it. A deep chill descended upon her back with every memory of that terrible, horrible time that she forced herself to relive. The magic she had poured into her loyal Nightguards and their allies on that terrible night had been for a good purpose, or so she thought at the time. There had been untapped potential in her ponies, which the Nightmare wanted to use for power, for glory and admiration. With it, she controlled their minds and flung them into battle. There could be only one alicorn in the world, and it was to be…

Despite her best efforts, a small tremor twitched at her flanks, and the room seemed far too small and cold.

Nightmare Moon had seized back that power in desperation to fight Celestia. She had not cared about their lives, or what harm removing the magic would cause. Hundreds of her ponies had cried out in anguish, screams of raw agony that echoed through her mind for a thousand years. Hundreds of ponies had been transformed into the same creature as Ebon Tide. Hundreds of lives were extinguished in an instant when the Nightmare violently reclaimed the gift she had given.

Ebon Tide was frail, even with the recovering he had done so far, and to remove even a portion of her power, the rage and fury she had poured into his fragile mortal frame, could kill him like snuffing a candle. Yet to send him to a far-off colony would be even more lethal as he raged uncontrolled with no focus for his anger. She had tied their lives together with her foolish action just as certainly as if they had been wed, and now she had to live with the consequences: stay in his presence until he burned off the excess magic or live with his death somewhere out of her sight.

Actions had consequences. Luna frequently forgot that ironclad rule when she acted out of emotion instead of thought. Ebon Tide’s current monstrous shape would be a constant reminder of her failure, both now and then. To send him away would be to ignore her crimes, to sweep them under the rug without any punishment. And yet…

The moonlight pouring through the window wrapped around Luna’s shoulders like a silver cloak, clothing of such magnificence that no mortal thread could compare. Likewise, the palace threatened to wrap her in cloying praise, with every pony in awe or shaking respect. None of them turned away in disgust, or turned up their nose at her crimes. Like her stars, Celestia accepted her, so they did also.

There was no punishment, no scourging for her acts. No penalty for betraying her country. No consequences for her treachery against her own flesh and blood. Celestia had nearly died, and the murderous deeds of Nightmare would have only grown beyond imagination when the whole world was doomed into darkness and ice as a result. But instead of the stocks and the whip she deserved upon her return…

She got sweet chocolate pudding, and her sister’s unconditional love.

“There is no bath in this bathroom, but there is paper,” came Ebon’s voice again, shaking Luna out of her morose mood. “It is too frail to bathe with, and if it is meant to be scribed upon, it is far too soft, and there is no inkwell or quills.”

“It is meant to wipe your bum,” said Luna, feeling more than a little superior that she had encountered the substance first and learned of its use.

Eb did little more than grunt in response. After a fair amount of time, he added slightly muffled, “Unicorns made it, I presume.”

That warranted some investigation, which made Luna stifle a welcome giggle when she saw how little of the paper was left on the roll, and how much was wrapped around the hapless stallion. Magic was the answer to his problem, although Luna was less than pleased at how much of the expensive paper wound up being flushed down the jakes. After ensuring that her patient also washed his hooves like she had been cautioned, she gently lifted much of his diminished weight and walked him back to the bed. Of course that meant she had to continue holding him suspended while she tidied up the sheets, silky soft things far better than the homespun cloth that had adorned her former royal bed.

“Princess,” said Ebon. “The magic you forced upon me… It saved my life, correct?”

Luna fumbled with the corner of the sheet, then stuffed it roughly under the thin mattress. “The rage and fury of our magic was meant to strengthen your body and give your mind purpose, lest you fade away. As you use it to heal, it shall become less, until it eventually fades. Still, we do not give you permission to die until you have accomplished the task which my sister placed upon you.”

“She did not tell me to kill you,” snapped Ebon with bared teeth, or at least white-speckled gums. “I decided to do that on my own.”

“A decision as poor as mine own, with far smaller scope.” Luna hesitated while floating Ebon Tide up into his bed, nearly bumping him into the wall on the other side since he felt so light. “And yet, if you had succeeded, my sister would have been alone… Did you have any siblings?”

Ebon struggled to get under his sheet. “One. A sister, who was lost in my early years to disease. My mother miscarried several times after I was born, until she too died from something the doctors could not diagnose. And then my father died fighting the griffons.”

“I have never been without my sister,” admitted Luna. “Not one week has passed without her presence, both welcome and unwelcome. We did not know how much she missed me until this eve, when you forced me to her balcony to carry out my responsibility. A thousand years without me, when I can barely remember a week’s absence. Should events have turned in a different fashion, with her banished while I struggled to hold our ponies safe…”

Moving slowly, Luna returned to the window and regarded the moon again, with the stars spread across the sky in their infinite beauty. Behind her, Ebon Tide shifted around in his bed, seeking comfort where it was least likely to be found.

“I do not hate you all of the time now,” admitted Ebon after some consideration. “I’m glad Peanut convinced you to stay with me, otherwise I would have taken my… that is your anger out on the nurses, and most likely broken another leg.” He rotated one hoof with only a minor wince. “You were correct to remove the cast. I believe it is nearly healed now. At this rate, I will be back at the pells in a few moons, instead of dying with every orifice in my body crammed full of tubes. I owe that child a vast debt of honor.”

“The letter was most… strident,” managed Luna, who concealed a smile at the memory by studying the distant stars. “There were drawings within the margins and everything. Although the spelling was quite creative.”

“She certainly is a persistent little monster,” admitted Ebon. “And if I’m not mistaken—”

The hospital room door behind Luna thumped quietly as a small pony entered the room, only to stop cold at the doorway and gasp, with the thud of something hitting the floor.

“Princess Luna,” whispered a very young voice. “Mister Ebon Tide, that’s Princess Luna over at your window!”

“I think I know—” started Ebon, only to be cut off by the child again.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, it’s Princess Luna! Am I supposed to curtsey or bow or shake hooves or what? Am I going to get into trouble? Mama says I’m not supposed to see her! Did she get my letter? Is she sick too? I only brought one bottle of pop! Should I go get another one? Do princesses drink pop? Is there something important outside your window that she’s looking at?”

“Peanut!” chastised Ebon Tide, much as if he were speaking to one of his own long-dead children. “Calm down. Sit!”

There was another quiet thud behind her as if a small rump were hitting the tile floor.

“Your Royal Highness, Princess Luna,” began Ebon Tide in the full rolling cadence of a Nightguard although skipping several of her titles, “I would like to introduce Peanut of House Glory, Clan Silversmith. Peanut and several other small relatives snuck in to see me a few nights ago, and I was rather rude to them. I’m glad to see that she has returned, and from the package I see on the floor in front of her, she brought a gift.”

“We are pleased to meet you, young—”

Luna turned around with a polite smile appropriate for the current occasion, with the smallest of lifting at the corner of her lips and her eyes hooded slightly. That is until she saw the small batwinged monster, and her heart nearly stopped in abject terror.

I thought they were dead! I thought they were all DEAD!

10. Black Sheep

The Last Nightguard
Black Sheep

“Service in the Royal Guard can be stressful at times, so your personnel office has contracted with several support agencies in the area such as Sand Creek Associates to provide assistance when events get difficult to manage. Counseling is confidential, and all sessions are kept private.”
—Support Services Cares - When Difficulties Arise, We’re There For You

Fear was stronger than steel, more powerful than rage, and inescapable when the monster you feared was your own self.

Unable to move even the smallest muscle, Luna stared at the monstrous consequences of her actions so long ago. If the bat-winged creature had been an adult, Luna might have been able to fight off the paralysis that gripped her to the bone, but to see one so small and innocent engulfed by Nightmare Moon’s cursed spell struck directly at her weakness. Luna had never done well with children, even when she had been young herself. She loved the night and all that it hid enshrouded away from prying eyes, while others shied away from the darkness and insisted on light to see what did not want seen. When she had become a princess, it had only gotten worse. She became larger than even the largest normal pony, and totally terrifying to the smallest.

The tables were certainly turned this evening. An awed Peanut Brittle looked back at her with wide yellow-slitted eyes while Luna’s heart pounded in her ears. They held their respective positions for a short time until Peanut stretched her neck up over the edge of the bedrail, leaned over to her faithful Guard, and asked in a loud whisper, “What do I say?”

“You thank Her Highness, then you leave,” said Ebon Tide in a similar whisper. “Princess Luna has never been good with foals.”

“But she’s the candy princess!” hissed the young pony before slowing down and blinking several times. “Maybe she doesn’t like that part. But we still get candy, right?”

Eb winced. “Sugar?”

“Yes!” declared Peanut. “Last year, I ate so much I was sick!”

Ebon Tide seemed to have something in his eyes because he was blinking rather slowly until he braced himself and asked, “So, did you bring a gift for Her Highness?”

“Pop!” declared Peanut.

“Not candy?” asked Eb hesitantly.

“No, you wash candy down with pop,” said Peanut, who had turned nearly bottom-up to root around in the paper bag she had brought into the room. “And I got a moon pie, and a can of mangos…” She abruptly looked up from the bag and locked eyes with Luna, who still had not moved, then glanced sideways at Eb and asked out of the corner of her mouth, “Does she like moon pies?”

“Are they candy?” countered Eb.

“No, they’re like cake,” said Peanut.

“Let us put them to one side for now.” Eb looked down from the bed at the growing collection of items on the floor that had spilled out of Peanut’s paper bag. “What is that?”

“Mangos!” declared Peanut, holding the metal container up. “The can has a picture of a mango on it so you can tell.”

Eb took the ‘can’ from the young pony and gave it a shake, then peered at the colorful label. “Fruit, inside a sealed metal container. Does it prevent decay?”

“Mangos can go bad?” Peanut looked puzzled, but only for a moment until she dug into the parchment bag and produced a strange metal device with levers and gears.

“So how do you extract them?” asked Eb, still turning the can around in search of some opening.

“Mama uses a can opener, and then you have to share them with your little brother and be careful not to get cut on the can.” Peanut opened her sharp-toothed mouth wide and stuck out her long tongue, pointing at the underside next to her fangs. “Eee, ight ere? At’ ere eye got ah cut.”

To his credit, Eb gave his own sideways glance at Luna before bending over the edge of the hospital bed to examine the proffered object with all the sincerity of a court presentation.

In the few minutes since her first dramatic impression of the monstrous little child, Luna had managed to relax enough to think, although not so much that her heart had ceased its frantic pounding. It was partially due to the relatively small size of the threat, but mostly she was able to calm down due to Ebon Tide’s actions. He was representing the role she should have as an example of her station in life, and that irked her somewhere painful deep inside. Then again, the two batponies were acting so much alike despite the relative newness of Ebon’s creation.

After all, Luna had not known what Nightmare’s magic would do to her ponies, only what the poisoned words of the fiend had promised. It made her wonder how many years the creatures lived, or if any of them had survived the thousand years since she had slain so many of her kind. Peanut was a child, and to have children, there needed to be at least some adults, so therefore Nightmare Moon’s cruel act of reclaiming her power from the transformed ponies had not resulted….

No, she did not wish to think of it. In particular, her mind skittered away from a terrifying realization that no matter how horrible it was to have transformed hundreds of ponies as Nightmare Moon, she had used the same corrupted magic to do it again to Ebon Tide without even thinking of the consequences. It was a betrayal of Celestia’s trust, an abomination thrust upon her trusting Guard from so long ago, and…

Without it, he would be dead instead of peering oddly at the modern mechanical gadget with the small monstrous child offering suggestions as to how it was held.

No, she could not think about her acts any more, or at least until she had more time to recover. And perhaps one of the mangos in that can. She had tasted a mango once on a journey with Celestia, although she could not remember just exactly where they had been, and that had been in the Discordian era, so their location was most likely different now. The mango was a delicious fruit, but not so much that she would take the entire contents of the can as her due when it was opened.

Perhaps half. Once the mysteries of the ‘opener’ were revealed.

As Luna watched the two batponies puzzle over the workings of the intricate mechanism, she could feel the simmering anger beneath her surface. Not just anger at herself and the tragic decisions of centuries ago, but anger at her sister. Luna was not a child, and to have Celestia hold back the knowledge of these creatures’ survival was… a betrayal of her own claims to trust Luna as the sisters they once were. Did they know of her role in their creation? Did they still despise her over the tragic deaths she had caused? Did Celestia do anything to preserve that knowledge over the centuries?

They were questions which would best wait until later, since the greater temptation of the ‘can-opener’ device was an easy distraction for her troubled mind. She had always loved puzzles, conundrums, and mathematical formula. Children were far too complicated and did not respond to rational arguments, although Ebon Tide was having no problems with Peanut, and that gave Luna enough strength to add her own suggestions to their discussion.

Her sage advice did little to help, of course. This modern world had changed so much, symbolized by a simple metal container of fruit. It could be decades before Luna could catch up with her sister’s knowledge at best, and yet Celestia had publicly put her forward as an equal, in charge of half of Equestria without a single clue how to manage it. It was a task doomed to failure, although it was impossible that Celestia had planned for Luna to inevitably face-plant in this fashion. That would require a level of devious subtlety that Celestia had never shown before, although she had changed over the years, so perhaps… No, her sister would not let half their lands suffer merely to undo what the elder had taken such great pains to do. Much like when Luna had learned how to fly, Celestia had merely given a simple clueless push, and it was up to the recipient of the lesson to spread their wings and keep from crashing into the ground so far below. It was a confidence that Luna could not feel in her own heart when she could not even discern the workings of a simple mechanical device.

“Perchance that top piece should be rotated to the side,” she suggested. “No, that places the ‘tooth’ in an upward location where it cannot bite into the metal.”

Peanut perked up. “Maybe your sister could show us how to use it. My dumb big brother loves to show off how smart he is.”

“Mine sister most likely has never used an opener of cans either.” Luna giggled as a sense of irreverent humor cut through her musings. “She has servants to do everything but wipe her bum.”

“Eww.” Peanut wrinkled up her nose. “I had to change one diaper, and that was enough.”

“I changed hundreds,” stated Eb, although he followed the quiet statement with a thoughtful look at Peanut, then Luna. The unspoken question had an obvious answer. If Ebon Tide’s children survived and thrived,their great-great descendents might be found in the palace today. It was yet another pertinent question which would wait for another time, because Dr. Hurwitz took that moment to prove he had a stunning lack of timing.

The faint knock at the door was followed immediately by the doctor poking his greying nose into the room, looking around with seeming disappointment at seeing both his patient and royal caregiver awake. Although, when his eyes lowered to Peanut, there was no hiding his reaction.

“Peanut Brittle!” he thundered with a furious frown. “I told your mother to keep you at home! Now scat, you little pest! Fly home!”

Acting before she thought was a bad habit for Princess Luna. This time, her habit proved useful. A quick adhesive spell kept Peanut from moving from her current location while Luna turned her chill gaze on the abruptly quiet doctor, who had not advanced more than a few steps into the hospital room.

“The child is within Our presence,” she stated with enough restrained force that puffs of frost floated out with her words. “Do you think she is uninvited?”

“I… um.. Dread Sovereign… Uh…” It was pleasurable to see the insufferable windbag deflate, but Luna belatedly remembered her visitor, the reason why she was being so uncivil. She canceled the spell keeping Peanut’s hooves glued to the floor and gently nudged her forward, keeping one wing half-curled around the child for both protection and a degree of restraint while she continued in the full cadence of a royal court introduction.

“Doctor Hurwitz, trusted Personal Physician to the Royal Sisters, I would like to introduce Our subject, Peanut of House Glory, Clan Silversmith. Our invited guest.”

It was possible that Doctor Hurwitz made some sort of noise in response since his mouth was opening and closing, but he spoke nothing that Luna could hear, so she continued by gently scooting the child in the direction of the door and around the immobile intruder.

“Verily, since you are to conduct your daily examination of Our Guard at this late hour, We shall accompany Peanut outside of the room where we will not cause a disturbance.”

* * ☾ * *

Peanut was remarkably quiet out in the hallway with Luna for a time, but after a short period, the good doctor departed at a fair clip and the two of them returned to the hospital room. In their absence, Ebon Tide had covered himself with the sheet again, which was probably a good thing since Peanut was a young child, and to be exposed to that much hairless hide on a stallion was probably not good for her future mental condition. Luna tried not to comment on his lack of hair out loud because she had seen worse in guards blasted by dragonfire, although most of them died of their injuries, a lingering discomfort that troubled her mind on a deep level every time she glanced at him.

“Guard, report on your examination,” said Luna the moment the door closed behind them. It felt good to take refuge in the trappings of tradition rather than return to their fruitless wrestling with the devilish ‘can opener.’

“I’ll live.” Ebon Tide took a deep breath, coughed slightly, and shifted positions. “I could use a drink, though.”

“I got it!” Peanut dug into the parchment bag she had left in the room and extracted out an orange glass bottle with a metal cap. She held it up against the bed rails and gave it a sharp blow on the top to open it up, then held it out to the patient. “Here you go, Mister Tide. It’s orange soda pop.”

“A moment.” Luna snagged the cool bottle with her magic and brought it over to her lips. “You forgot your Sovereign. It is our right to have the first fruits of your labors.”

Luna took a long swig from the bottle, expecting something vaguely beer-like despite the odd color.

She most certainly did not get what she expected. Not even close.

Fizzing orange fluid coursed down her lungs and out of her nose in a mighty sneeze that sprayed ‘orange soda’ all across the bed in a fine mist. The explosion of orange flavor was far more potent for its distribution, and the sensation of strange artificial oranges was so powerful that she could even hear it gurgling through her ears somehow. Luna coughed and hacked, dropping down onto the floor and dribbling leftover soda into a growing puddle.

“Oh, look,” said Eb with a snort of his own. “The Royal Geyser.”

“That’s not nice.” Peanut Brittle frowned furiously at her guffawing guard. “It gets up in your nose and you get orange snot for days if you don’t blow it out. I was gonna say you should be careful on your first sip, not gulp it down.”

Although Peanut’s intentions were pure, her words were far too late for all practical purposes, and Luna barely managed to float the remainder of the ‘pop’ over to Ebon Tide without further acid commentary.

Due to the example set by his Sovereign, Eb took his drink of ‘pop’ much more cautiously and with less resulting drama. In fact, he paused with the pop half-drunk as if he were savoring the flavor, then swished it around in his mouth a few times before swallowing.

“It seems—” urp “—rather orangy,” he managed through several polite belches. “A delightful bouquet which can be experienced several times.”

Luna was going to reclaim the bottle and break it over his head as soon as she finished sneezing and coughing.

“It is good we have such a wise guardian to inform us of this modern era,” continued Eb with another short belch.

No, hitting the frail stallion over the head with a bottle was too likely to kill him, and Luna wanted him to suffer for this indignity. Not in a hate-filled kind of vengeful suffering, but somehow the presence of the small child muted her expected rage into wanting something she had last experienced so long ago with her sister.

Those carefree days were long gone, cast away by her actions.

Still, if one of Nightmare Moon’s creations had survived to the current era and remained as innocent as the bat-winged foal, perhaps there was a glint of light in the overcast sky of her past. After all, Peanut Brittle had called her the candy princess in a voice just one step away from divine worship. Dominion over Moon, Stars, and… candy? It did not seem to fit into her mindset, particularly with how disgusting the modern era of candy had become. A few caramelized sprinkles of rich brown sugar over a fresh apple or the sweet/bitter taste of dandelion wine was more to her liking. Then again…

She took the bottle back from Ebon Tide, regarded the last drips of orange in the bottom, then drained it in a single swig.

If she were the Princess of Candy, it would not be all bad.

“We declare this beverage acceptable,” she stated solidly, passing the empty bottle back to Peanut. “Suitable for rare occasions and celebrations. From this point onward, my Guard shall sample such offerings first. Speaking of which…”

Luna thought her vision superior in the dimmest light, but even her eyes could not find the elusive can of mangos they had left behind in the room just a few minutes ago. An envious whisper in the back of her mind blamed the devious Dr. Hurwitz, who was determined to thwart every action she had taken so far. To steal the can of mangos from the trusting and clever foal was the mark of a dastard most certainly, but the faintest glint of metal from the small ‘trash can’ put a quick halt to that line of angry thought.

“Empty,” she mused as she floated the opened can up from the trash. It did not seem in the doctor’s observed behavior to consume an entire stolen container of fruit in front of an invalid, but as she slowly turned to her trusted Guard, his guilty expression explained all.

“The doctor opened the can for me,” confessed the thief to the loud gasp of Peanut. “Once I got started, I couldn’t stop until…” Ever so slowly, the bedraggled stallion lowered his head until he was looking at the glossy tile of the hospital floor. Luna’s temper may have been at a low simmer due to the presence of Peanut, but the foal had no such constraints on her ire.

“Unfair!” she called out, stomping one little hoof. “I always have to share mangos with my bratty little brother, no matter how much of a pain he is. He even gets half, even though I’m bigger and older and deserve a bigger piece! What good is it to be bigger than him if my mother treats him better than me? Sometimes, I wish I was an only foal!”

There can only be one princess in Equestria! And that princess will be me!

The faintest of icy breezes rustled through Luna’s mane and kissed the back of her neck. Her words were spoken in anger so long ago, but they had been true. Bitter, spiteful, and filled with far more bile than Peanut could muster over a mere can of fruit. Her hate had nearly cracked the world and condemned all of her beloved ponies to death. A foal could say such things and mean them with all of their heart. Princesses could not.

“Thou art an older sib,” said Luna carefully through the lump of ice that clogged her throat. “It is your responsibility to care for your younger.”

“I know,” muttered Peanut, who was looking at the floor tiles as much as Ebon Tide now. “He just makes me so mad, all demandy about what I’m supposed to do and say, and he doesn’t do anything that I tell him.”

“That does seem to be the role of the younger,” admitted Luna reluctantly.

The relatively cheerful air of the room had drained away by now, which Luna still wanted to blame on the doctor even though she knew it was mostly her own fault. After a short time spent trying to recapture the mood, Peanut gave up and headed back to her family before she was missed and got into even more trouble.

It left the hospital room cold and quiet, with a frigid blanket of silence between Luna and her victim. Ebon Tide turned his back to her, curled up on his bed, and vanished under the thin sheet without a word while Luna settled down on the cold tile floor for the rest of the evening.

The morning nurse found her there, still quietly sobbing.

12. Wind's Fall

The Last Nightguard
Wind’s Fall

“Sign up for Direct Deposit today. No need to bother yourself with cashing a paycheck every two weeks when you can have your pay deposited into the bank of your choice for no charge. Fast, easy, and accessible when you need it. That’s Direct Deposit.”
—Flier from Fifth Crown Bank upon the bankruptcy and dissolving of the Fourth Crown Bank

Blank Cheque had either been born for a life of crime, or perhaps he should have been born a dragon instead of a unicorn. Either way would have satisfied his inner desire as Supervisory Clerk to never allow a single bit to escape his grasp without sufficient cause.

Well, what he considered sufficient.

The Department of the Exchequer was large in order to supervise the tax receipts and spending of the Equestrian state in a fashion that would have been approved of by the Office of the Princess⁽*⁾, if they had the time. In essence, the vast majority of the offices in the palace were representatives of Celestia’s personal household, proxies for the actual princess because she could not be expected to use her precious time to cook her own meals, arrange meetings, set the tables, care for the Royal Gardens, oversee the guards, and do any of the thousand other tasks that were required to keep the country running.
(*) Technically, Celestia and Luna were the sole members⁽¹⁾ of the renamed Office of the Princesses currently, but the paperwork had gone through very recently, and the new stationary had not yet been printed.
(1) There had been talk of appointing Princess Cadence to the office, but anypony who saw the way she shopped was rather hesitant about turning over the authority for the Royal Mint to such a ‘young’ princess.
—

The secret of the Equestrian Principality was that their Princess was a paid volunteer, not really a ruler. Back at the dawn of the country’s founding by the famous Commander Hurricane, Chancellor Puddinghead, and Princess Platinum, things ran rather smoothly due to their newfound friendship, which had proven powerful enough to defeat the Windigo as well as bring all the ponies to the warm new lands of Equestria. Alas, friendship is a poor thing to build a nation’s government from, which permitted a great deal of fractious discontent to grow. Two alicorns found themselves consulted frequently to mediate between ethnic and racial conflicts, to judge crimes where fair and honest decisions were critical, and to fight monsters that no mortal pony could triumph against.

In fairly short order, their positions were quantified at the top of the food chain as leaders of all ponykind, with certain oddities to the job. Where a small shopkeeper might have an accountant he hired during tax season, or a rich pony might hire one on a full-time basis, a nation required a much larger expansion of certain roles, much like the difference between a sapling and an Everfree Hometree. After all, they were both trees with spreading branches, of a sort.

The Royal Exchequer was one of those branches, and had sprouted many smaller twigs and leaves to carry the load. Nearly a thousand ponies across the nation were directly under the department, with many times that in various positions reporting to ExDep as they liked to think of themselves. Tax revenue across the country flowed into Canterlot under their unblinking eye, and similar payments for various budget items flowed out just as well. Exchequer agents were just as varied as the leaves on trees, but they all held to their positions as elements of the great organization with a certain innate superiority to all others, minus one exception.

The exception was not the Exchequer, who was a rather rounded pony with square corners in his mind. His own direct subordinates numbered just over a dozen, who in turn had a dozen or more subordinates of their own, and so forth down to the least of their numbers. No, the exception was a very simple concept: The Princess could not be everywhere to oversee this tempting river of cash, but she could employ several trusted ponies to do the job in her stead.

Auditors.

They came from branches of the military or powerful corporations, each one personally selected by Princess Celestia and empowered to act as she would in their place. No branch or twig of the Equestrian government was exempt from their dreaded presence where they wielded unlimited power at their disposal when examining books of government agencies or corporations. Each Auditor in turn could only be audited by Princess Celestia, but since their establishment centuries ago, no audit of the Exchequer Auditors had found more than a missing half-bit. Ever.

Which brings us to Blank Cheque, who had just experienced an Audit of unusual intensity, unprecedented since the dawn of Equestria.

First through the door to his office was an elderly batpony with an eyepatch and a grim attitude of perpetual endurance as if Death were hesitantly standing at his shoulder waiting until it was safe to quietly ask him to visit the Shadowlands for the long-overdue audit of the afterlife’s books. On the batpony’s shoulder sat an elderly raven⁽²⁾ who also had an eyepatch and one baleful eye remaining that peered at each of the paralized Exchequer employees in turn as if evaluating their eyeballs’ taste for a good pecking when they failed the Auditor’s strict standards.
(2) It was rumored that the raven had a degree in accounting also. It was fact that the Auditor’s favorite unicorn granddaughter was named Raven, and was the only creature in Equestria that could elicit the slightest of smiles from her grandfather, particularly when she uncovered corrupt political interference in her job as Celestia’s personal secretary.
—

Behind the first Auditor came another of even more terrifying reputation, and then another, until five Auditors had walked into his office like they owned the place, and no wonder, because they were accompanied by an alicorn who did. Princess Luna had not said a word, but settled down behind his own desk like a throne and began to review documents the aged Auditors began to produce. There was not even a trace of mirth in the air while they worked, because the alicorn made even the grim Auditors seem cheerful and frivolous by comparison.

Ledgers had been unearthed, some literally. Employees brought in for interviews, some of whom had been retired for a considerable time. Thankfully, there was no request to unearth some of the previous employees who had passed away. Numbers were examined. Calculations made. Not a single employee in Blank Cheque’s department even thought about running for the door and making an escape, because there had been stories about what happened to ponies who tried to flee an audit.

It was not pretty. And the unblinking gaze of the raven watched anypony who even thought about leaving.

Blank was starting to wish for the same armor worn by his managed departments, although the Royal Guard steel would not have protected him a bit from the cold accuracy of the Audit’s quills. In the end, two numbers had been calculated. One was rather large, but within Blank’s comprehension. The other was not.

Somepony had to bring the news. Blank Cheque had been selected.

* * *

Day had always been one of Ebon Tide’s favorite times. Working on the night shift allowed him to use his rare time off basking under Sun, sprawled out over a tethered cloud with few responsibilities. Well, other than being a father and husband to his family. His daughters had always given their old stallion a certain amount of relaxation time before dragging a cloud over his snoozing spot and trying to catch him in a sudden downpour.

They giggled far too much for a proper ambush.

Anger shaded those pleasant memories now. He remained mute and stewed while watching the sunbeams creep slowly across his room and silently tolerated the occasional nurse stopping by to help him take food in or release waste out. The Princess had obviously tired of his torture for her entertainment and returned to her comfortable life as if she had never left. He was discarded, a worthless piece of garbage to be thrown from the mountain city into the valley below. After a thousand years, the debris would be deep indeed, a sufficient amount to hide his corrupted corpse from the pristine princess in her golden towers.

The towers were probably gold. Eb had not even managed to see the outside of where the princesses now called home, or even look out the window of his room.

He was so tired. The blazing spark of hatred in his breast no longer drove him like a nettle whip, burning with the urge to bury his stubby teeth into Princess Luna’s neck in revenge for his departed comrades and family. She had a sister to welcome her home. Ebon Tide was a forgotten husk, decayed away to dust in the moon while the world passed. Nopony would welcome him back to his empty home, fill him in on the changes that had swept over the world, and embrace him with joy at his return.

No, that was not quite correct.

Eb dug under his pillow until he found the scrap of parchment, thin and slick instead of an expected thicker substance, and with the smallest, neat hoofwriting, clean and precisely showing his name written among his fellow Nightguards. Guards who had betrayed their oaths and given in to Nightmare Moon’s cloying promises and honeyed words. Guards who had died in revolt against their loyal princess. Traitors, although the page did not say so. They had merely been listed as lost.

Although another line on the page caught his eye with a jolt of recognition.

“Survivors,” he whispered, moving closer to the page until his nose fairly touched it. “Of course, there would be survivors, or Peanut would not exist,” he added once his thundering heart had slowed to a more survivable beat. Most of the names were unfamiliar to him, probably new initiates and trainees who had not yet advanced to be under his direct authority, including a Silversmith which he suspected was Peanut’s ancestor.

He was still deep in thought over the concept as the sun coming through his hospital window shifted to darker colors and Night began to approach. It almost made him miss the faint clicks of hooves on the hospital corridor, but not when Princess Luna and a nondescript beige unicorn with trim saddlebags came into the room, her with confident stride and him with a sudden glance over his back as if he were measuring an escape route.

“Warleader Tide,” started Luna, “Exchequer Blank Cheque has news for you. Speak.”

“Me?” squeaked the Exchequer with a nearly sideways jump at the abrupt introduction. “Oh, yes. Me, of course. Since I’m the only one here…”

The nervous voice trailed away as Blank Cheque caught sight of Eb, who had gathered his sheets around him like a nest to counter the occasional chill breeze that filtered through his room. It was obvious that meeting a nearly hairless batpony was not what he expected, but equally obvious that he was worried far more about something other than being in a room with his Dread Sovereign and a corpse-like nightmare.

“Keep it short, Blank Cheque,” warned Eb. “Princess Luna has the moon to raise shortly.”

“Oh! Yes. Of course. Short. I, um… It’s not a short problem,” he added in a hesitant squeak, much like a pony-sized rat.

“All large problems can be broken down into smaller problems, and those into smaller ones yet,” he lectured from habits spent passing knowledge to Guard initiates who had been dust for centuries now. “If you cannot describe the problem in a simple sentence, get out.”

“I… Um… Princess Luna is blocking the door, sir,” he said redundantly with a backwards glance.

All the frustration of the day came to an abrupt boil in Ebon Tide’s mind, and he had a perfectly good pony to take it out on.

“Sir?” he growled in a near snarl. “Are you a Guard?”

“Uhh… No, sir?” Blank Cheque backed up one step, then moved back forward abruptly as his tail touched Princess Luna.

“Then why do you refer to me as a PEER?” bellowed Eb. “I am a Royal Guard back from when the name had MEANING! We hold no estate nor title, in service to the Crown until the end, one equal among many. I have taken an oath not to wed into the nobility, nor accept any title. I would die before betraying my oath. What bonds of sacred trust have you subjected your life to?”

“Well, we had to sign some papers when we were hired…” It was obvious that the bland stallion wanted to un-speak the words he blurted out, but Ebon Tide pressed on before he could continue.

“If not for the presence of your sovereign, I would have flung you from the window of my chambers by now. SPEAK, or—”

“Ihaveyourbackpay!” Blank Cheque panted in panic with wide white eyes and an expression that indicated he was ready to widdle on the floor if pressed any further.

“Pay?” Eb settled back in bed, feeling his rage leak away and taking his brief burst of strength with it. “Put the purse on the table and leave. If the Crown is willing to pay me a few coins for my years of agony, I will take it. Perhaps I can go out drinking once I recover, and raise a glass to my fallen comrades.”

“Uhh… You want your pay in cash?” asked Blank Cheque with an even more alarmed expression than when Eb was threatening him.

“Yes, I want my pay in bits,” he snapped back. “If you have no purse, make a neat pile on the table. I have no mane to clip the purse within anyway, and nothing upon which to spend them here in this pestilent place.”

For some reason, Princess Luna seemed to be having a giggling fit at his expense, and was fighting to restrain a devilish grin. Eb looked back and forth between her and the hapless exchequer, trying to puzzle out the unseen humor in the situation. Eventually, he decided on a gentler approach, since the rage-driven sledgehammer of his magical contamination was proving uninformative.

“How many bits am I due?” he asked, deciding that would be the best place to start.

Blank Cheque said a number. It was quite large, and used phrases he had never heard before, even if it was calculated down to the last tenth-bit and smidgen. After due consideration, Eb asked a second question to make sense of the first.

“What is a billion?”

After being informed that it was simply a thousand million, Eb tried to mentally picture a pile of bits that large, and how somepony could ‘simply’ have a sum of bits sufficient to make a small mountain. Although it still left one question.

“And a trillion then is a thousand billion?” he asked instead.

After being assured that his guess was indeed accurate, Eb looked up at Luna and asked, “Do you—”

“Oh, no,” said Princess Luna swiftly. “My pay was being handled by a small group of financial advisors. Over the years, the group expanded in size but kept the managed assets within reason by frugal investment and substantial charitable donations. Those numbers are being Audited as we speak, although if there is pilferage, it is on a scale equivalent to a single mouse gnawing at the bottom of a grainery.”

“Then how—” Ebon Tide found himself gesturing with one hoof, trying to gauge the size of the bit mountain he had just been told about, then carefully put the hoof back down to hold himself upright on the bed since his knees had begun to tremble. “Exchequer Blank, start at the beginning and proceed forward in small steps. At the time of my… incapacitation—”

“Oh, no!” blurted out Blank Cheque again. “We did not calculate your pay as disability! That would only add—”

“When I was trapped in the moon,” continued Ebon Tide just as forcefully as he could in order to squash Blank’s panic attack before it started again. “I believe I had the princely sum of twenty bits in savings.”

Blank’s eyes widened even further and Eb was forced to add, “Presume that will not change your calculations. I am familiar with the rule of seventy-two, but…”

When Ebon Tide had been very young, his father had once told him the Third Alicorn of Power was named Compound Interest. At that time, it had been funny. Now, he could not help but picture the laughing fit Crimson Tide was having in the Shadowlands at his expense, literally. Luna, however, had her head cocked to one side and was regarding Eb with a different kind of interest.

“Pray tell, what is this rule of which you speak? It was not in the Equestrian code which my sister and I had placed into law.”

Now it was Eb’s turn to look puzzled. “It’s a rule of finance, used when calculating interest on a debt. The Guard bank actually paid on deposits, so my father insisted I keep my stipend invested with them, and learn the simple rules of money.”

“I remember that decision,” mused Luna. “Having the Guard pay deposited at the vault eliminated a great deal of fuss, although the bankers who gathered at court whined like kicked dogs. I believe they paid three quarters of a percentum at that time.”

“Which is roughly a century to double your money,” said Eb, taking refuge in his memories of counting tenth-bits and smidgens at the kitchen table with his father. “That’s not nearly enough time to turn my deposit into—” he waved at Blank Cheque, who appeared to be deep in calculated thought “—that.”

“Thy words made me visit the Royal Exchequer’s office to see if I was drawing a salarium for my time in abeyance.” Luna nodded. “To my pleasure, I found what is now called an Investment Group was taking care of the accumulated fund. They required me to identify myself before inspecting their books, which was unexpected but practical.”

“How many alicorns do they think are just lurking around?” quipped Eb, who was still trying to get his head around a number with so many digits, and was not really paying too much attention to the conversation.

“After I was satisfied with my own situation, I inquired about yours,” continued Luna. “After all, it would be a slight against Our honor for us to be paid and you left destitute. Following the rules laid down at the establishment of the Guard, back pay is to be applied with the compounded interest rate adjusted every few years. At the time of my corruption, that was two percentum, which rose to three shortly afterward, then varied many, many times over the intervening centuries. To be honest, determining your position in rank was the most difficult task. The Guard changed titles every century or so. There is not even a Warleader rank any more.”

Eb could no longer hold onto the mental image of him at the kitchen table with his father, moving half-bits around to make short stacks. Every year, there would be more bits on the table, growing like mold, until it grew large enough to engulf Mount Canter.

“So I was not drawing my salarium during your banishment,” started Eb very slowly. “But you forced them to calculate it and bring the sum to me.”

“Of course.” Luna frowned slightly, but Eb could tell she was proud of her actions and was just putting on a display for her audience. After all, he had been in his position for well over a decade before being banished, and was quite able to read between the feathers of the alicorn sisters. Well, when the red haze of anger was not clouding his vision.

“Unacceptable,” he said instead.

“You want back disability pay also?” managed Blank Cheque in a mere whisper.

“Nay, I wish none of it at all,” stated Eb just as firmly as he could. “Any bits in my account were disbursed upon my supposed demise, along with payment for the same. My daughters were paid, were they not?” he asked, giving Blank Cheque a firm glare.

“I… uh… think so?” The poor stallion scrabbled around in his scattered parchments, looking so much like a young Guard initiate being given an impossible task in his apprenticeship that Eb felt a twinge of compassion.

“Mark my account from that era closed,” said Eb. “I shall collect no pay nor accumulate service for those missing years. To consider otherwise is obvious folly, which even a child should be able to see. Why should I demand payment for services to the Crown which were not rendered?”

“But Princess Luna—”

“I AM NO PRINCESS!” roared Ebon Tide. “The Sisters are eternal, here since before we were whelped and remaining when all turns to dust! The Guard exists only to protect them, for if they fall, so do Sun and Moon! Our lives are to be sacrifices to their needs, our every drop of blood is shed to keep them safe! Close mine account at the time of my reported demise and open it again when I was so rudely plucked from Moon and placed in the claws of these infernal healers! Do I make myself clear?”

“Sir, yes sir!” blurted out Blank Cheque, hesitated for a moment, then he bolted from the room so rapidly that the door slammed against the outside corridor wall. If it were possible for the middle-aged unicorn to sprout wings for more rapid egress, Eb thought he would have left a trail of shed alicorn feathers also.

“Contemptuous bit-clipping parasite,” muttered Eb, settling back down on his pillow. “An evil needed in the world nonetheless.” His eyes slid sideways to glare at Luna as if to place her in the same despised category, but the Princess of the Night was not deterred from her mirth.

“Had the Nightmare’s magic permeated thine own and you were brought back into the world as a male alicorn, We believe the two of us would have prevailed over whatever forces were thrown against us, and we would have ruled together upon a throne of darkness,” she managed between her chuckles.

Eb did not share her humor at the situation and considered flinging his pillow at the annoying pest, but resorted to simply punching it a few times to redistribute the lumps. “Make merry of my situation all you wish,” he muttered.

“Oh, it is either laugh or cry,” admitted Luna. “We suspect far too many tears have already been shed in that regard.” The wry smile at the corner of Luna’s lips slowly faded and she shook her head. “Were I to have imprisoned my sister, I would have wept for years, and Celly is such a tender and frail soul beneath her stoic exterior. The joy concealed in her face when she gazes at me is obscured by a web of guilt stretching back to the moment of our imprisonment, and when she sees me, all she must think of is her guilt at her actions.”

After due sullen consideration, Eb gave a short nod. “When I was far younger, I struck a subordinate once,” he admitted. “Even now, I cannot recall what he did to trigger my anger, but I will never forget the look on his face. It bore some resemblance to Sire Cheque upon his departure. I would suppose an apology is in order.” Eb turned his gaze upon the dark princess. “An apology from both of us.”

“What, me? What did I do?”

“Frightening him over trivial events, for starters. The rest will wait until you have fulfilled your duties for this evening.” Eb looked out the window at where Sun was sitting rather impatiently on the horizon. “I’ll make a list while you are gone.”

* * *

The quiet sound of the door opening and closing was getting to be familiar to Ebon Tide. He looked up from his scribbled notes and caught the guilty expression on Peanut Brittle’s face as she hesitantly looked around the room.

“No, Princess Luna is not here,” he said from around the ‘pencil’, a clever device of wood made to hold a charcoal stick without the smudging he was used to. “She hath… has gone to raise the moon as is her duty.”

Before the little monstrosity could say anything more, the door behind her opened slightly and Specialist Crupper poked his chubby face inside the hospital room. “I’m sorry, sir, but I thought I heard—” The Guard looked down at Peanut Brittle, then up at Ebon Tide with a nervous swallow. “I presume you have things under control, sir?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” said Eb. “Dismissed.”

Crupper vanished without a sound, and the door closed behind him.

“I thought he was going to catch me,” admitted Peanut Brittle. “He’s been a lot more alert lately.”

“Proof that even dirt has a purpose,” muttered Eb, who returned to his notes. It had been slow going with the new writing utensils and crisp paper, although despite his best efforts, he could not complain that the equipment was slowing him down. The context of what he was writing was elusive. Then again, he had an expert in the modern world right in the room, so it would do no harm to consult her. “Peanut, how do you apologize for something that really isn’t your fault, just something that happens whenever you try to help?”

“You mean like cooking?” asked Peanut Brittle with a significant droop to her ears. “It’s not my fault that stuff catches on fire so easily, but Mama makes me say I’m sorry anyway.”

“Yes, exactly.” It was probably the wrong thing to do, but Eb persisted. “When you do something wrong that you know you’re going to do again, because it’s just in your nature.”

Peanut was a very bright little filly, but Eb was still surprised when she asked, “Did Princess Luna do something wrong?”

“Well… yes,” admitted Eb in a stunning understatement rather than try to explain Nightmare Moon’s cruel actions to such an innocent little filly.

“Because when I do something wrong and my Daddy writes out an apology for me, he looks just like you do right now because he knows I’m probably going to do it again because I did it before but I still have to applogize because that’s what good ponies do and maybe I’ll learn my lesson and quit doing it before my little brother starts doing it too and then I’d be in real trouble.”

“Thank the Stars there are only the Sisters Two,” muttered Eb beneath his breath, although it brought his mind back to better times, when Celestia and Luna used to play adolescent games far beneath the dignity of a princess, which of course required the Guard to clean up the resulting messes. Thankfully, Princess Luna had only used stars to spell out particularly cutting remarks about her sister’s rear once before a truce had set in on that aspect of their competition.

Personally, Ebon Tide had no official opinion on the Sun’s Moons. Unofficially, they had been a terrible distraction while guarding Celestia, which was one reason he had become a Warleader instead of a mere Guard. A Warleader got to walk in front of Her Thighness… um… Highness. Yet another thing that had gone to dust while he was gone.

“There is no place in this world for me,” he said to nopony in particular. “Luna has her sister, and I have nothing.”

“You can come stay with us,” volunteered Peanut with a sharp perking up of her ears that made Eb wary of an incoming disaster. “We live in this big old apartment cluster on the lower cliffs with like fifty rooms and a lot of dust and a couple of renters because we don’t have enough ponies in our family to fill it all the way up but there’s always an empty room or two in case one of our aunts or uncles stop over for the night.” Her eyes widened. “Are you a relative? Because you have a Tide in your name like my father and all my bratty brothers but Mom didn’t want me to be a Tide like him because we had so many Tides already and she said—” Peanut stomped one small hoof and looked quite fierce “—No daughter of mine is going to be another Tide!” Her tiny face abruptly regained its normal cheerful smile. “Daddy has a lot of Tides in his family.”

It was not as much of a shock to Ebon Tide as he first thought because he could vaguely remember Peanut introducing her younger brother as Riptide. It hit closer to his heart than he thought because his own two daughters left behind when he had made his stunningly foolish decision. Over a thousand years of crossing and family trees branching would leave a lot of leaves, much like his tiny stipend as a Guard blossomed into an entirely unexpected and unestimatable sum. It might be more difficult to find a pegasus in this modern world that he was not related to.

“We shall consider it,” said Eb even while doing just that, although he probably should have remained mute.

“We?” asked Peanut with an abrupt increase in her normal level of perky. “Are you going to bring Princess Luna too? Are the two of you married? Do you have any foals? What are their names?”

“No!” splutted Eb, although he promptly put a damper down on his rising temper. If nothing else, the presence of a Peanut was a great assistance in that regard. After a few cleansing breaths, Eb continued, “It is forbidden for a Guard to give himself in… For a Guard to… romance a princess,” he finished, greatly wishing for a source of words that he did not have. “We were both within Moon for centuries, but that does not make us… mated.”

Or at least that was what Eb hoped. There had been some sort of law in place which allowed a couple who had been sharing a bed for over a year to be considered wed, but Moon was not a bed and most certainly it did not apply in this unique circumstance. Captain Ramparts was due to return to the city today, so that would be a good time to privately raise the issue with him. Most certainly not with Princess Luna, who took that moment to slip into the hospital room with her usual silent tread that he might have missed, if not for his current guest.

“Princess Luna!” squeaked Peanut.

“Your Highness,” said Eb with a respectful nod, since Luna looked very much more at peace with herself and less like the dark monster she had become. Besides, Peanut Brittle was in the room, and the last thing he wanted was to set a bad example for the child.

“Mister Tide wants to come live with us,” chirped Peanut. “Once he’s feeling better, of course. He can come and visit you whenever you want. Or you could visit our house!”

“Not at this time,” said Luna. “I have yet to leave the palace complex since my return.”

The seemingly casual statement drew Eb’s attention sharply. Princess Luna had always been a wanderer who delighted in frolicing through the Everfree with the night-dwelling creatures. Frequently, the Night Guard would lose track of her for hours, only locating the missing princess when she returned to the castle for her duties. It was a shift in her behavior that boded ill for her recovery from Nightmare Moon, because she had become similarly sullen and broody a few weeks before her fall.

“I will be visiting Peanut Brittle’s home tomorrow,” said Eb out of impulse. “If it pleases Her Highness, she may feel free to accompany us.”

For a moment, Eb thought he had gone too far. Princess Luna recoiled as if she had been physically struck, and her movement backward toward the hospital room door did not look as if it were going to stop, if not for Peanut’s enthusiastic words.

“Pleeeeease come too?” said Peanut Brittle with the most sincere expression in her watering golden eyes. “I’ll even make cookies with Mom and make sure that Grandpa Waffles wears his shorts. My big big brother wants to be a guard, and he’s just gone all ‘nanners about your return, but the Academy took all the Night Guard Cadets on a really long flight that they haven’t come back from yet but he’s supposed to return really quick just like my Daddy is supposed to come back from Manehattan any week now and Uncle Slipstick used to be a Day Guard so he’d be tickled pink and purple to see you and do you have any food allergies we’d have to cook around because Mom always says I should ask that to any of my friends who come over since Puffy Noodles had his little run-in with peanut butter and said he’s allergic to me now but he’s just a colt so he’s stupid.”

“Strawberries,” said Eb, who had barely managed to hold onto a single thread in the rapid conversation. “Every spring, Princess Luna breaks out in spots. Big red ones all over her face and coat—”

“I do not!” spluttered Luna. “Besides… the season is far past strawberry season,” she added rather awkwardly.

“So you’ll bring Mister Tide to our house tomorrow morning?” asked Peanut Brittle, seeming almost ready to vibrate out of her shoes. “Really? That’s great! I gotta go tell everypony!”

There was a rush of air and the little pony was gone, long before Princess Luna could say, “Wait.”

It was a sight that Ebon Tide would treasure for as long as he lived, however short a span that may be. Luna was standing open-jawed, with one hoof extended toward the closing door and nothing more. It was a study in art, Ancient Princess Confounded By Small Foal, or perhaps Fish Out Of Water from the way her mouth continued to open and close with nothing coming out.

“Of course,” said Eb once he had absorbed all the humor he could from the situation, “since thou art too terrified to set one hoof outside of your safe palace, we shall make excuses in your place.” He shifted positions to get out of his hospital bed, then looked down at the tile floor where the metal controls stuck out. “If Your Highness will step upon that central pedal, we shall practice our elegant stride into the jakes, perhaps with a walk up and down the corridor outside to prove we have recovered enough for a trip out into the city on the morrow. No, not that pedal, Your High—”

The bed promptly tipped up on end, and Ebon Tide slid out onto the cold floor in a ball of flailing wings and profanity.

He made it to the bathroom without embarrassing himself, and walked twice up and down the corridor just to prove he could do it without collapsing. After an hour or two of rest, Eb insisted on doing it again, catching Specialist Crupper by surprise just as he ‘closed his eyes for a moment’ at his post.

Although the real surprise happened just after dawn, as Ebon Tide prepared for his trip.

❤

13. Impatient Patient

The Last Nightguard
Impatient Patient

“Long-term medical care is covered through your Veterans Association Insurance, deducted from your biweekly pay and kept in trust for you and other veterans of our armed forces. In the event you want to purchase a supplemental plan to cover any additional expenses above the standard, we are attaching a list of providers that you can match to your needs…”
—Standard Royal Guard yearly paperwork

There was little that Ebon Tide could do in preparation for his morning visit to House Glory, the residence of Peanut Brittle and her family. In his previous life, he would have simply flown there at the appointed hour of Dawn, perhaps with a gift. His present body could technically bear him up into the sky, but the flight would be brief, and the tentative experimentation he had done in the empty hospital room this morning showed how inexperienced he was with these particular kind of wings.

Killing himself by crashing was not the end he was looking for. A Warleader should die in battle with his teeth in the enemy’s throat, not face-planted into the pavement somewhere with his unfurred rump sticking up. The rage which Luna had forced into Eb’s ailing body was a critical aid to his recovery, but even that kind of healing magic would be worthless if he broke his head open on a stone.

“Where is that mare? Dawn has come and gone!” muttered Eb with yet another look at the clock on the wall. He had overlooked the odd device many times during his incarceration because there was no drip of water or flickering flame of a candle driving its mechanism, and none of the nurses had ever wound it, so his instinct was to discount the time it displayed. It certainly seemed to run slower when watched, and dart forward when he looked away. For a tenth-bit, Eb was tempted to just walk out of the hospital and go without Her Highness, but he had spent his entire career—discounting a thousand year gap—accompanying one or the other princess. Disobeying their will was even more uncomfortable than being unarmored in their presence.

Although… Eb could only vaguely remember Princess Celestia’s hospital room visit through the dark haze of his insanity. His memory was warped and distorted by Nightmare’s leftover influence and the various fel poisons the supposed healers had pumped into his veins, much like his faded memories of Princess Celestia from a much better time.

“I am a poor excuse for a Guard,” he muttered under his breath after checking the room to make sure nopony else had slipped inside while he was distracted. “I’ve failed both of my princesses, one by neglect and one by offense. If they will have me, House Glory shall be my exile. Glory,” he scoffed. “My glory is spent, my honor depleted. None shall know my failure and disgrace. Let the Sisters go on forever while I am cast aside into the dust, unneeded and unwanted save for the stories told to foals.”

With naught else to do but stand, Eb maintained his stoic stance in front of the hospital room doorway much the same way as he had stood guard over the doors of the Royal Residence for years. Even with as wasted as his strength had become, he could feel the strength of the stone beneath him, the faint ebb and flow of power in the distance as ponies went about their tasks. No matter how strange a place this new world was, there was at least this one thing that remained the same.

The door creaked open and Princess Luna slid inside, taking in Eb’s stance with a single flick of her long eyelashes. Quite obviously, the reason for her delay was personal preparedness, because every single hair on her slender body was in place. There was even a subtle tint of eyeshadow and a glossy black saddle, showing that Her Highness had honestly applied herself to this project. Perhaps too much, if he was reading the faint tremor under one eyelid correctly.

“Good,” she said with no small degree of distraction. “You are prepared to depart on our journey. I feared you would still be slug-a-bed when Peanut Brittle arrived to escort us to her House. Or has she already been here and gone,” she added, looking around the empty room.

Eb limited his reply to a rather stiff, “The child has not visited this morn. I suspect she awaits our arrival, as is appropriate for her station. I am ready to depart when you wish, Your Highness. Does your security contingent know where House Glory is?”

“Security—” Luna shook off her introspective attitude and looked rather sideways at Eb. “We thought you would guide us. As for security, I have a Warleader of the Night Guard at my side. What need would I have of additional Guards?”

There were no end of responses which attempted to fight their way to Ebon Tide’s lips, mostly profane. He settled for, “The last time I visited Canterlot, there were no more than a dozen buildings and one rough fortress. I suspect there may have been a few changes since then.”

“True.” A wave of relaxation swept down Luna’s sides, making the ornate saddle sag since she no longer was holding part of her breath inside. “A guide will need to be procured for our outing. Perhaps tomorrow, or the day hence. It is for the best. After she raised Sun, my sister told me of a surprise she had planned for today.”

“A surprise,” said Eb flatly. “Like me?”

“I certainly hope not. One of you is far too many.” Luna strolled over to the window and looked outside at the midmorning Sun, something that Eb had been avoiding. “We have had far too many surprises as of late, none of them good. Including you.”

There was some sort of commotion out in the corridor, a rapid clatter of hooves with an underlying shouted discussion that Eb’s new ears could not help but hear. It did not sound to be a threat, but more like a pursuit between a mare and a hesitant lover.

“Cady! Princess Celestia said to wait until later!”

“I’ve got to see her, Shiny! She’s my aunt! This can’t wait until—”

The hospital door nearly flung itself off the hinges as a wave of pinkness swept inside in a flurry of feathers and exuberance. An alicorn skidded to a halt nearly within touching range of Ebon Tide, and only the Guard habits of a lifetime kept him from falling over in shock.

“Auntie Luna!” cried the pink alicorn, although the happy smile slowly slid off her face as she looked Eb straight in the hairless face. “Aunt Luna?”

“Princess?” managed Eb. “Who…?”

“What is this?” said Luna, stepping forward beside Eb. “Another of our kind? You would call me aunt, so you must be— Oh, no.”

“Auntie Luna!” squealed the alicorn, who regained all of her overwhelming energy in the flicker of an eyelash. Even if Eb had been at the peak of health and prepared for the incursion into his room, there was no chance for him to stop the abrupt assault that resulted when a blur of pink impacted against Her Royal Highness, She Who Warleader Ebon Tide Was Supposed To Defend With His Life.

“Urk!” said Luna and little else.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re back!” exclaimed the unknown princess. “I heard the news, of course, when Twilight freed you, but we were so far away from Canterlot on a diplomatic mission and couldn't get back until now! Are you settling back in well? Is there anything I can do for you and Celestia? Did you talk to Twilight Sparkle? Are you moving into her old rooms in the palace? They’re right next to mine and we went there first, but the workers said you came down here and Shiny said we should wait but I just couldn’t! Oh, it’s so good to have you here!”

Eb could vaguely remember his first day as an apprentice Guard. This was a similar sensation, with vast amounts of information being dumped on him during a time of limited comprehension. His sole condolence was that Princess Luna was taking the unexpected presence of a third alicorn princess with far less aplomb than he was. Of course, all Eb had to do was stand in place and not let his jaw sag open with the concept that Princess Celestia, the sole remaining alicorn in the entire world for a thousand years, had a daughter. Or more correctly, at least one child.

The hospital door opened again and a unicorn Guard looked inside, giving the entire room a careful examination before focusing on Ebon Tide, who was still drawn up in Sentry Position. Ever so precisely, the unicorn saluted, let his piercing blue eyes track over to the two alicorns, then back to Eb, who rolled his own eyes in response. It did not seem too much dereliction of his duty since the doorway provided an obvious bottleneck in case any other of Celestia’s children were to arrive, so Eb took several stiff steps forward until he was able to exchange a few words in the hallway without disrupting the ongoing one-sided conversation between eager young child and elderly aunt alicorn in the room behind him.

“Lieutenant Shining Armor, I presume.” Ebon Tide deliberately saluted regardless of his present instability on three legs, although he put his hoof down rapidly when done and tried his best not to lean on the doorway. “Report.”

“Warleader Ebon Tide,” started Shining Armor. “Princess Mi Amore Cadenza was out of the country on a diplomatic mission when you and Princess Luna were freed from the moon. When we returned and Princess Celestia informed her of Princess Luna’s return, she… um…” Lieutenant Armor waved a hoof at the chattering pink princess. “She is extremely fast when she wants.”

Eb could not help but nod. He also had the difficult task of keeping up with both of the princesses at various times, and Shining Armor did not have the benefit of wings. “And where is Captain Ramparts, Lieutenant? Did he not know I requested and required his presence immediately upon his return to the castle?”

“Palace,” corrected Shining Armor, raising his voice slightly to be heard over Princess Cadenza’s happy plans about where she was going to take Luna out in the city. “Princess Celestia is quite adamant about the distinction. And yes, he was informed of your request—”

“Order,” corrected Eb. “How many hours hath he been within these walls?”

Shining Armor looked as if he wanted to remain silent, but only for a moment. “Five, sir, since he flew ahead of the carriage on our return. He said he needed to get some paperwork done.”

“I see.” Despite the loud one-sided conversation going on in the room behind him, Eb did not raise his voice. “Specialist Crupper.”

“Yes, sir!” The chubby pegasus Guard showed up behind Shining Armor so fast that he left a loose feather swirling around in his wake.

“Shining Armor will hold your post. Go inform Captain Ramparts that Warleader Ebon Tide requests and requires his presence. Now.”

If anything, the Guard’s departure was faster than his arrival, and Shining Armor raised one eyebrow slightly, but did not say anything. That was fine with Eb, because he had something else that really needed to be done before Princess Luna had another breakdown. He turned around in the doorway, a process considerably more difficult that it had been in his youth, and regarded both ecstatic young alicorn and considerably unnerved elder.

“Princess Cadenza,” said Eb flatly with every bit of parade ground enunciation that he could force between his tooth-stubs so his voice would rise above hers. “Restrain yourself. Please.”

It was obvious that the young Princess Cadenza was not used to being told what to do instead of telling others. She stopped her ‘conversation’ with Princess Luna almost instantly and turned to Eb, seemingly caught between using a plaintive expression to get her own way and expressing her dismay at his current near-hairless and haggard appearance.

“Princess Luna is still recovering from being possessed by Nightmare Moon,” continued Eb just as directly as he could while facing those intense violet eyes, so much like her mother’s. “I’m certain she will wish to connect with you over the next few weeks, but for now, please allow her to proceed at her own pace so we can avoid any unnecessary shocks.”

“But…” Mi Amore Cadenza took another look at the frazzled Luna, then slowed to a brief nod. “Oh, I see.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” Ebon Tide nodded, wishing he had a set of Guard armor to cover his unsightly dark wrinkled skin. “Perhaps you can discuss Princess Luna with your mother first, as she suggested. Does Princess Celestia have any other children we should be aware of?”

“Children?” Those big violet eyes blinked once, then again as a mischievous smile began to spread across her beautiful face. “My mother? Oh, you think Princess Celestia is…”

Shining Armor spoke up quickly behind him before Princess Cadenza could do more than giggle. “Cady, I told you to hold off on your visit until we knew more. I’m sorry, Princess Luna. Warleader Tide. Princess Cadence is not Princess Celestia’s daughter. Celestia has no children, although I understand the confusion. For the longest time, other ponies thought my sister was actually her daughter, since… Well, Twilley is a little obsessive, and when Princess Celestia picked her as a private student, she really… went a little Twilley-nanners about it.”

“Shiny!” chided Princess Cadenza.

“You foalsat for her several years running,” said Shining Armor. “Do you have another word that better describes how Twilight treated Princess Celestia?”

“Well… No,” said the young princess, who did not appear old enough to foalsit anypony.

“In any case, Your Highness,” said Shining Armor with a brief nod to Luna, “if it will make you more comfortable, I’ll escort Princess Cadence back to her rooms so she can rest after our trip, and the two of you can discuss family relationships this evening, perhaps?”

“Please,” said Luna, who had taken this brief respite to regain some of her aplomb.

“Your Highness.” Shining Armor gestured at the hospital room door, then when Princess Cadenza showed no signs of moving, added in a more plaintive tone, “Caddy?”

“I… But…” The young princess obviously realized her social error, and turned to Luna with a quick swallow and a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Auntie Luna. If you want me to address you in that fashion, of course. I’ll—”

“Your separation will only be for a brief time,” said Eb reflexively. “Her Highness will resume her social schedule soon, and she will need the counsel of somepony versed in the culture of this modern era.”

“Yes, of course,” murmured Luna, showing little confidence in her own words.

Ebon Tide moved to one side to permit the young princess to depart, but called out before the two of them began moving down the corridor. “Lieutenant, once Her Highness is settled, report back here. I have a task for you. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” The young lieutenant saluted quickly in order to follow the speedy pink princess down the corridor with the rapid tap of golden shoes on tile. The last thing Eb could hear before a door cut off the sound was Princess Mi Amore receiving a gentle reprimand from her personal guard, “I told you so, Caddy.”

“A foolish comment from an otherwise intelligent young stallion,” said Luna, who had moved up beside Eb so quietly that he nearly jumped out of his shoes. If his bare hooves had shoes, that is.

“I told my wife that once,” admitted Eb. “Only once. You don’t suppose the two of them have a relationship beyond—”

“No,” said Luna, although her thoughtful expression softened almost immediately. “Another alicorn, young and filled with life. This world is indeed a shocking one, although this surprise was mixed. If this Mi Amore can manage to find love as her name says, who are we to stand in the way?”

* * *

It took relatively little time to wait before the sound of approaching hooves could be heard in the corridor again, time which Eb was willing to spare. After all, the excitement had drained what little energy he had, and Luna took her portion of the time to make herself more presentable in the small toilet chamber and remove her dress saddle. Eb had noticed the other princess was not wearing a saddle either, so perhaps they were no longer de rigueur for nobility when visiting. He had never been partial to a mare in one of the torturous devices anyway, and had never forced his own wife into wearing one.

There was a sharp tapping at the hospital room door, followed immediately by a hefty pegasus in the modern golden armor of the Guard stepping into the room and stopping in front of Princess Luna. He was a handsome middle-aged stallion with flawless teeth and a square jaw who spared Ebon Tide not even the slightest glance, focusing his entire smile on the princess instead.

“Ramparts, Captain of the Royal Guard, Household Regiment, reporting as ordered, Your Highness.”

Luna said nothing, but simply turned her head to look at Eb, then back at Ramparts.

“Captain Ramparts,” said Eb levelly. “Finally.”

It was quite obvious the Guard did not want to look at Eb, but after a few moments of cold silence from Luna, he slowly turned his head. “Mister Ebon Tide,” he started, but Eb was not having any of it.

“Warleader Ebon Tide,” he snarled while taking a step forward. The remainder of Luna’s corrupted rage bubbled in Eb’s belly, simmering like a pool of naphtha touched by a torch, but he did not want to use its fire right now for violence and destruction. “Explain yourself,” he spat instead.

“I am reporting to my princess,” said Captain Ramparts plainly. “If you wish a moment of my time when we are done—”

“I will have my time now,” growled Eb. “When I am done, Her Highness may pick through the bones that are left. Explain just why you disobeyed my order.”

“You are in no place to give orders,” said Ramparts. “You are an invalid, unrecovered from your time in exile. My superior is Colonel Moutarde, and he takes orders from the general staff, who take theirs from Princess Celestia.” Then after a brief instant, he added, “And Princess Luna.”

The princess in question nodded slowly. “Let me be perfectly clear, Captain. Warleader Ebon Tide speaks with my voice in matters military.”

“That’s not how it works,” said Ramparts with just the smallest hint of a sneer. “Our organization has been perfected over the centuries into the precise fighting force it is today. We guard princesses and foreign potentates, diplomats and nobles from all corners of this land. Perhaps you should discuss this with Princess Celestia while Mister Tide rests.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Luna turned ever so slightly in Eb’s direction and fixed her gaze into his eyes. “Do as you see fit with your subordinate, Warleader.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” That seething pool of rage in Ebon Tide’s belly begged for release, but a far more sensible portion of his mind knew exactly what would happen if he threw a punch. Discipline could never be maintained by direct physical violence, with certain exceptions. Bearing that in mind, Eb drew in a deep breath and let a smile of his own begin to emerge as Ramparts dug his hole deeper.

“I don’t recognize Ebon Tide’s authority,” said Ramparts directly, without a trace of hesitation, or at least until Princess Luna turned ever so slightly to look him directly in the eyes..

“That is your final mistake of the morn. We were close before my exile, and now that we have returned, if I’m cut, he bleeds. Initiate Ramparts,” said Luna quietly. “Did you enjoy your time serving in Our Guard?”

At first, it looked like Ramparts was going to object, but as the meaning of his abrupt demotion soaked in, his expression grew less controlled. “You can’t do this!”

“She did.” Eb stepped forward until his forehead was practically against Rampart’s nose. “Before we proceed any further, what orders did you give to Shining Armor?”

“Shining Armor?” Ramparts hesitated, obviously confused. “How did you know I—”

“Because he has not reported here as I ordered,” snapped Eb. “You told him to disregard my order, did you not? But he followed you anyway, because he at least has some sense of duty! Lieutenant Shining Armor, report!”

“Yes, sir.” The tall young stallion stepped out into the doorway and sharply saluted. He also did not say anything else, which Eb appreciated. Far too many subordinates ratted on with unneeded details, such as why he was out in the hallway, or why he waited until directly called.

“Are you prepared to carry out the responsibilities of your new position, Captain Shining Armor?”

“Um.” The Guard blinked like he had been struck, then shook his head slightly. “No, sir. I need several more years of—”

“Good,” said Eb, cutting the young stallion off cold. “I’ve never promoted a Guard into a position they were completely prepared for, and I didn’t want to start now. You will hold the position of Provisionary Captain until the Royal Sisters make it official. Initiate Ramparts, you are relieved of duty and restricted to quarters until a full review of your actions can be scheduled. Captain Armor, what is the current punishment for dereliction of duty?”

“Section 86b Subsection 12 of the Royal Guard manual specifies Failure to Report does not raise to Dereliction of Duty except in a combat situation,” snapped Shining Armor, just as precise as if he were reading from a book. “As such, punishment for the offense is limited to confinement for one moon, followed by reduction in rank.”

“Fortunate for you, Initiate Ramparts.” Eb scowled as he passed a glance over his shoulder at Princess Luna. “As I recall, flogging used to be involved. Ten strokes at least.”

“Flogging?” Ramparts looked positively horrified. “You mean with a whip?”

“Certes.” Eb nodded at him, both vaguely satisfied and discomforted at having destroyed the career of such a handsome officer. “You are dismissed.”

Ramparts saluted, then turned and departed at a brisk pace, leaving Ebon Tide to watch the newly promoted Captain until the former Captain had passed long out of earshot.

Why do they all seem so young? And tall?

He must have been considering the passage of years for more time than he anticipated, because Shining Armor politely cleared his throat and asked, “Sir?”

“I would like to hear your opinion about my decision, Captain.” Ebon Tide sagged slightly as the emotion of the moment faded and the boiling sensation of rage began to cool with it. “Summarize, please.”

“It’s a good decision, although I’m still not convinced I’m the right choice for this position.” Shining Armor gave Luna a brief glance. “Ramparts has been an effective head of the Household Regiment for years now. If I may make a suggestion, provided I am to remain in charge of this detachment. With the expansion expected from a new princess, I’ll need an experienced second in command to ensure the process continues smoothly.”

“Will he be able to work under you without conflict?” asked Eb, somewhat set back at the casual way that Captain Armor was suggesting his superior become his subordinate.

“He’s a consummate professional, although lately his attention to the job has been slipping. He anticipated being promoted to the General Staff, so he was paying them more attention than Princess Celestia,” explained Shining Armor.

It made sense, since some things in the military had been true forever. Some other things seemed to be new, and that was the potential issue that was bothering Eb more than anything else right now, and the real reason he had ordered Shining Armor to report.

“I’ll take his past performance and your advice into account during the review,” said Eb. “For now, I have a more important question. Are you in a relationship with Princess Mi Amore Cadenza?”

Whatever tension had departed the confident young stallion during their conversation returned with a vengeance. He jolted into a perfect alert stance, head up, shoulders squared, tail in half-raised position. “No, sir,” he responded.

“Captain Shining Armor,” said Luna softly. “I expect my Guards to lie in a believable manner.” Princess Luna had always been able to use silence like a sharp blade, and it was obvious that the young stallion would rather be skinned alive than back down, even when she followed with a question. “Would you sacrifice your own life to defend hers?”

Instantly, the answer was, “Yes, Your Highness.”

“And my own,” added Luna. “As well as my sister.”

“Of course.”

“And if it came to a point where you had to choose between us?” Luna raised one eyebrow fractionally and watched the young stallion sweat. “Take your time.”

“Don’t tease my Guards, Princess,” said Eb. “Captain, there is no correct answer to that question. Sometime when we have a hogshead of beer and enough time, I shall explain in great detail my failure in that exact regard. Your hesitation in answering this question shows maturity. Your relationship with Princess Mi Amore shows… something, which I suspect only time will reveal.”

There was a pestersome question which rose up in the back of Eb’s mind, only partially triggered by the original mistaken thought that Princess Mi Amore was Princess Celestia’s daughter. After all, the Royal Sisters had been known to be slightly flirtatious when they were in a fey mood, but to his (and the rest of the Guard) knowledge, they had what might be politely called a chaste existence with few exceptions. This third alicorn, however…

“Will there be anything else, sir? Ma’am?”

Luna silently shook her head, but Eb dismissed his new subordinate with a flip of an unsteady hoof. “No, you may return to your duty, Captain. The Princess and I had planned on a visit to House Glory to visit with young Peanut Brittle, but I fear we delayed for too long, and her family most likely has retired for the Day.”

Those piercing blue eyes flicked to the window, then to Luna, and back to Eb, before Shining Armor made a completely unexpected offer. “If you would like a private visit without the fanfare and bother of a full expedition, we can depart in a few minutes. The nocturnals tend to stay up late, and I can get one of the nurses with a wheelchair for Warleader Tide. Don’t tell me you can walk all the way there and back,” he added with a cautionary glance at Eb. “If you strain yourself and delay your recovery, Twilight will have words.”

Luna raised one eyebrow slightly. “We would think failing our sister instead of your sister should be your greater concern.”

Shining Armor shuddered every so slightly under his armor. “Twiley would tell Mom.”

14. Royal Field Trip

The Last Nightguard
Royal Field Trip

“Daytime deployments can be uncomfortable, so follow these six easy steps to remain alert and effective even in the hottest summer sunshine.
-Drink plenty of fluids before reporting to your duty station.
-Apply sunscreen to sensitive areas.”
—”The Sun, Your Friend” from the monthly ‘The Crown’ newsletter

Sun was too bright, too huge, and filled to overflowing with hatred for Ebon Tide.

For a stallion who scant weeks ago had been on the razor edge of fighting the Pale Mare for one last time, it was a weak complaint. However, it was a more comforting thought to dwell upon rather than observe the strange city which towered all around him. If Ebon Tide had considered himself to be small when placed against Captain Ramparts, the city of Canterlot made him feel like an ant. No, a flea. It towered around him, reaching for the sky in glass and stone from the moment his wheelchair was pushed out of the hospital wing of the palace. It pounded on his nerves, forcing his eyes into watery squints, and blew in gusts that evaporated the building sweat from his bare skin, leaving patches of scorching heat and freezing dampness.

If it were not for the presence of Princess Luna beside him, Eb would have retreated for the first time in his life, back into his hospital bed and under the sheet. She was not retreating, so he could not retreat either, no matter his discomfort or embarrassment, although if it had just been the two of them, they might have been able to come to some sort of mutual agreement in that regard. There were two reasons why that was not so.

First, and somewhat incidental, was the placid and rather imperturbable form of their nurse. He was a plain earth pony, carrying hefty saddlebags filled with medical equipment that nearly obscured the modern cutie mark which matched his name. Bandaid was an odd name for Eb to wrap his mind around, because the concept of a bandage held on by a sticky patch of cloth had not occurred in his era. It would make a terrible mess when removed from a wound, but the young stallion was anything but messy. Every piece of his medical kit was tucked away in precise array, much like a military veteran headed out on campaign.

The other reason why Eb did not dare retreat was Shining Armor. It raised Eb’s respect for Captain Ramparts’ leadership skills to see just how perfectly his former subordinate handled questions, guided their path through the busy streets, and otherwise acted as an officer well-worth a higher posting. If his skills in combat were comparable, Eb could have taken a dozen officers just like him and driven Equestrian forces through any opposition, from the Minotaurs to the Griffons, like a hot knife through butter.

The leftover fire in his belly filled his mind with images of burning aeries and collapsed earthen mazes even while the more practical parts of his mind could not help but notice the same historical enemies of Equestria mixed in among the populace. A Griffon shopkeeper here, a Minotaur treat vendor there. Even an Abyssinian on a street corner, selling something hidden under his long coat to passing ponies. Had their countries been ground beneath the iron hoof of an aggressive Equestria, would they be members of that same nation now, living and working in this giant pony city in peace and harmony? And what of the rest of the batponies, cast out and rejected as traitors when they were created by Nightmare Moon’s magic? Peanut Brittle’s obvious example showed they had survived, but were they forced into encampments and observed to ensure their rebellious tendencies did not emerge again?

“It is so… different,” murmured Luna when they had a brief moment in close proximity. “So many ponies, and they all seem to look at us when we pass.”

“Probably me,” grumbled Eb, who was feeling every bump the wheelchair passed over on their trip. He would have gotten out and walked, except his current pace was far slower than any of his companions, and the relatively short distance they had traveled was far less than his practice inside the corridors of the hospital. “I seem to be the popular freak among children, at least.” Eb bared his white-speckled gums and scowled at a nearby child who was entranced by his passage, although even that display did not quell her curious stare. “You must enjoy having me along to distract the populace from you.”

“Oh!” It seemed to be an insight that cheered up the quiet princess, because her flattened ears promptly perked up and her head ever so slowly lifted to her normal posture as she looked about. “Thou art a respectable foil in that regard. Perhaps when you regain more mobility, I should get a leash.”

“Princess?” Shining Armor had the most peculiar expression as he looked back over his shoulder. “You’re not seriously—”

“No, she is not,” said Eb solidly, although he had to wonder what was so humorous when they continued walking and Bandaid made a peculiar snorting noise behind him like he was suppressing laughter.

* * *

It seemed as if they had walked hundreds of stade, although it had to have been less than a mile before they came upon the wall of Mount Canter, stretching up and back beyond his blurred vision in the brilliant light of Day. At first, it seemed as if the cliff face was speckled with some sort of odd pattern, but sufficient blinking made the darker patches on the pale granite resolve into balconies with colorful flower-stuffed windowboxes and the occasional grey pony out sunning themselves. There were a few staircases worked into the stone to provide access to rooms several stories up, but the upper sections must have been for pegasi only. That is pegasi of both the feathered wing and bat-types, if the smears of colors he could see through his runny eyes could be believed.

“House Glory is around here somewhere,” mused their guide as he looked back and forth at the ground-level entrances to the apartments in the cliff face. “Ah, there we go. The House crests are on the main flags over the entrance, with smaller flags for all of the individual family clans.”

Eb could not see exactly what Shining Armor was pointing at until they got much closer and under the canvas awning for shade. The entranceway was much more open and inviting than he expected, with several stone benches and tables among potted trees and bushes much like an artificial forest clearing against a natural cliff. Bandaid gave a low grunt as he pushed the wheelchair up the ramp to the front door, leaving Eb to stare at the featureless slab of wood with a small ‘Glory’ signet inset about at nose height. It shared the wood with a half-dozen other similar signets, proclaiming Honor and Resolve with other such obsolete merits that Eb had thought long forgotten, then a series of smaller family names below on small silver plaques. It was a relief since Eb was dreading some sort of incarceration facility to keep Luna’s transformed ponies out of society, but far more. It was aggressively normal, a warm and friendly kind of place that would welcome any kind of pony.

Even him.

“I’m a little unsure of the protocol here,” said Shining Armor much like he was afraid of embarrassing his commanding officer and a princess too. “Since you said a Peanut Brittle of House Glory invited you here, I’m presuming you should be the one to knock, sir.”

Ebon Tide eased his way out of the wheelchair, putting his curiosity about the wonderful machine behind the importance of making a good first impression on Peanut Brittle’s family. That impression would have been a lot easier to make in his Guard armor, but then again, the weight would have been far too much to bear on this trip. Perhaps later.

He struck the door several times, feeling remarkably pleased about himself for a change. The wooden knocking resonated through his bones, reminding him of home and the family he would not see until he passed into the Shadowlands. As much as the Nightmare’s corrupted magic stewed in his gullet, the welcome sense of belonging kept those dark emotions well in check. The smell of cookies wafting through the air. The rustle and bustle of a house filled with young ponies. The grating of granite beneath his bare hooves, undamped by metal shoes or protective boots. The astonished gasp of pure panic as a middle-aged batpony mare opened the door abruptly and stared straight into his eyes.

“Ma’am,” said Eb out of sheer inertia, “is this the home of young Peanut Brittle?”

“Ebon Tide,” squeaked the mare, seemingly unable to take her eyes off him. “You’re out of the hospital,” she added redundantly. “And here. With—”

Ever so slowly, the mare’s head turned up and to one side in order to stare at Princess Luna.

There was a long silence, unbroken by any breathing from the mare, until she gave off a tiny squeak.

“Ma’am?” prompted Eb. “Are you well?”

“princessluna!” was the only response, quite possibly made with the last breath in the mare’s lungs.

Ebon Tide waited. Princess Luna was less patient.

“We were given to understand that young Peanut Brittle had extended us an invitation to visit her House,” said Luna slowly. “Were We mistaken?”

“I told you, Mom!” sounded a very small and familiar voice behind the frightened mare. “I told you, I told you, I told you!”

“Princessluna,” gasped the mare. “Isin… myhouse… here.”

Shining Armor cleared his throat. “Actually, Flutter, she’s standing outside. Are you going to invite us in?”

“Yes! No! The house is a mess! I need to clean!” There was a rush of air and Flutter vanished with the door slamming behind her, but less than a heartbeat later the door was yanked open again and the wide-eyed batpony stood there again. “Come in?” she managed in another near-squeak.

Then she was gone again, with her path through the house able to be discerned by the startled cries of ponies being trampled or abruptly dusted, followed by the slamming of a door. Peanut Brittle appeared almost immediately afterward before any of them could step forward, and the little batpony danced in joy in the entranceway.

“Come in! Come in! Nopony believed me when I said you were going to come to the house today and I thought you weren’t because it took so long and we’re about ready to go to bed but you’re here now so I’ll get to stay up late and maybe eat cookies and tell those dumb colts that they have cooties since they didn’t believe me either! Oh, and you can have cookies too, Princess Luna.”

“We would be honored,” said Luna.

Their path into the house wove through a huge vestibule containing racks of coats, a few clusters of umbrellas, several empty shopping bags hanging on hooks, small cubbyholes stuffed full of colorful backpacks, large paintings of distinguished batponies on the walls mixed with scrawled pictures done by foals, several closed doors, and a vast number of houseplants in various colors of clay pots.

The narrowed passageway eventually opened up into a… Eb did not have a name for it. There were several large tables with benches to one side where family members could share meals with others, although there seemed to be far more tables than a family of any size could use. Above and to either side, the ceiling stretched up several stories, interrupted by sweeping buttresses of solid stone that connected the two sides with walkways and convenient places to hang more potted plants. A casual glance was enough to spot several more doors scattered through the artificial canyon, which made Eb mentally bump up the number of pegasus families who must have been living in the structure, and then bump it up again when he considered how many other balconies he had seen against the cliff face before coming inside.

This one place could encompass every pegasus family in the old castle and still have space remaining.

A series of astonished noises brought Eb’s attention down from the vaulted ceiling to a much more plebeian collection of cushions and end tables in front of an immense cold fireplace where a collection of other ponies looked back at him. They were not all batponies, or even pegasi, as Eb had expected. Several colorful earth ponies and unicorns mixed in among their grey-coated fellows, although the vast majority appeared quite young, and dutifully working on some sort of studies before being interrupted.

With books.

Many, many books.

In his day, books had been only for the wealthy, and children would never be permitted to even touch one of the precious pages. Here, even small children had books more suited to their own age, with colorful thick covers portraying mechanical devices and strange foreign creatures, as well as simplified letters and numbers. One small unicorn even had a stack of books beside him, with three of them hovering in his wavering magical field as he stared back at Eb with wide eyes.

“This is my family!” announced Peanut Brittle into the relative silence. “Well, not all my family except my bratty brothers,” she corrected, pointing to three young colts who occupied one larger cushion with an apparent great deal of sibling poking and prodding for space. “That’s Riptide the pipsqueak, and Peptide my stuck-up brother who wants to be a doctor, and Red Tide, who just got out of the Acaddmey and is going to be a real guard as soon as he gets a deployment.”

The aforementioned Red Tide popped up off the cushion as if it had bit him in the fundiment, and proceeded to salute so hard that his forehoof hit him in the head. Colorwise, he resembled all the other grey batponies Eb had seen so far except for enough red in his short violet mane and tail to make an aggressive eye-catching dark purple.

“Sir!” he squeaked, then with a sideways move of his eyes that must have included Princess Luna, he added, “Your Highness?” After a few moments of absolute motionless panic, the young colt practically vanished down one of the corridors, flapping faster than any pegasus Eb had ever seen before.

“Initiates,” drawled Eb. “So excitable.”

Shining Armor shook his head and tried to ignore Peanut Brittle, who was laughing at her brother too much to talk. “I was much like that after graduation, and I suspect you were too, sir.” He shifted position to gesture at several older ponies who were regarding their expedition with far less panic and a great deal more serious thought. “Your Highness, Princess Luna, allow me to introduce several of the Royal Guard who reside here, both retired and active. Sergeant Henpenny of the First Mountain Division,” he said pointing to a grey-haired feathered pegasus who promptly gave a short bow in the direction of Luna. “And Master Sergeant Grackle of the Four Hundred and Fifth Heavy Pastry Bombardment division,” continued the new Captain, introducing an elderly batpony with thick lenses in a wire frame that perched on his nose…

Habits of a lifetime in the Guard let Eb nod along with the introductions and match faces and cutie marks with names, even though there were more than a dozen of the elderly military ponies and he was really not prepared for this kind of reception. When Shining Armor ran out of current and former Guards, Peanut Brittle had managed to recover and began to introduce the rest of the younger ponies to Princess Luna. At that point, Eb was lost because one young batpony looked astonishingly similar to the next one, with only minor mane and attitude differences. At least he could pick out the other types of ponies and match them generally with names, but he was still more than a little disconcerted at the way the different tribes mixed together almost without differentiation.

“...and that’s Pineapple Squares but he likes to just be called Pin,” said Peanut Brittle, pointing to the last small pony, the unicorn colt who was frantically paging through one of his books in search of something. “Mom’s taking forever with the cookies,” she added. “I’ll go get her. Mom!” declared Peanut Brittle before taking off at a brisk gallop and vanishing through a nearby door, only for the sound of falling metal and breaking glass to immediately follow.

“I’m okay!” called out Peanut the moment the sound died down enough for her to be heard. “Mom! Why were you standing in the doorway?”

Obviously worried by the noise, several of the older ponies promptly headed for the kitchen, or at least that is what Eb presumed was behind the closed doors. He was more concerned by a hefty earth pony trotting down the House corridor in his direction with Cadet Red Tide tagging along behind like a shadow. Despite an absence of armor, there was no mistaking the stallion’s roots in the Guard because of his strict stance and rhythmic pace, as well as the way each of the other older stallions straightened their backs and sucked in protruding guts even further than when they had been introduced to Princess Luna.

“Princess Luna!” exclaimed the hefty stallion as he emerged into the brighter light of the pony gathering spot. He stopped almost immediately, dropped into a short bow, then straightened up and paused for a response in the exact way a serving Guard should when addressing a princess.

“Your Highness,” said Shining Armor, “this is Master Sergeant Tide, of the Household Regiment. Father to young Peanut Brittle,” he added as the sound of more glass breaking filtered out of the kitchen.

“Tide?” managed Ebon Tide.

“Just Tide,” rumbled the big stallion, who practically towered over Eb like a giant wave of mottled browns and tans fitted tightly over a powerful physique, with a short bottle-brush of fiery red mane that looked a little like the fire on a candle. Now that he knew what to look for, he could pick out Tide’s family by their underlying coat pattern that surfaced in shades of grey and faint tan hairs, and the reddish hints of flames that danced at the tips of their manes and tails.

Eb had always considered himself to be large, although part of that was psychological from the armor and the authority that came with it. That was then. Now was so much different. Tide had the family, the position, the life that Eb had lost forever.

All Eb could do was watch.

Princess Luna was the model of grace, meeting the rest of Peanut Brittle’s extended family without any outward sign of stress or discomfort. She sipped tea with Madame Flutter, nibbled cookies with the children, made polite conversation about the extravagance of modern manes and the relative difficulty of doing anything creative with Sergeant Tide’s short vibrant locks. It was a polite and low-key visit, considering Princess Luna had tried to destroy the world just a few scant weeks… or was it months ago?

The tour of the House was relatively short, since many of the apartments in this section of cliff had ponies who were no relation to House Glory at all. There were several other batpony Houses and Clans present, though. All of them sent curious onlookers to visit or just peek at Luna from around a corner, leaving Peanut Brittle to act as a sheep dog as she darted out and herded the reluctant ponies over for a brief introduction. That is until Madame Flutter put her hoof down and chased the young batponies off to bed. Then Eb and Princess Luna found themselves being sent off to the House library for a few minutes of relative peace before the Tide family promised to return and answer any questions they might have in private.

Library was really a misnomer. It felt more like a warm nesting refuge from the cold, cruel world, with gentle magical lighting of some sort that cast diffused shadows across the comfortable overstuffed chairs and ornate endtables. The room was paneled in rich dark woods, with several rows of shelves, racks of maps, and more books than Eb had ever seen in a private dwelling before. Even the Royal Sisters’ own library in the castle had been smaller, and ‘fluffed out’ with books of drawings. For a mere family of commoners to possess such a treasure made Eb seriously reconsider his evaluation of the modern book, particularly when he removed one from the shelf and saw page after page of the same exacting, precise lettering.

“Do they use some sort of machine to produce these marvels?” he murmured to himself, peering down the surface of one page. “The contents bear little resemblance to the clattering of gears and springs, but perhaps the Flutterponies hath a hoof in it, or magic is used to reduce the mechanisms to smaller size.”

“We shall inquire,” said Luna, who rested her bulk in a large stuffed chair which remarkably was of sufficient size to contain her entire body and then some. “Of more concern is the way in which ponies of this age comport themselves in private. Didst… Did you notice anything unusual about the family?”

“I could not miss it.” Eb peered at the library door to make sure nopony was lurking behind it, but the translucent glass panels showed the corridor beyond was still empty. “All of the races of Equestria are represented within these walls. Even young Peanut Brittle seemed to be sweet upon that studious unicorn colt. They make an interesting couple. What would be unspeakable shame in our time has turned until it is commonplace even among the children.”

“And your namesake, Sergeant Tide. An earth pony,” mused Luna. “Mixing his blood with pegasi. We must admit to a bit of pride that our creations breed true. All of his brood are uniformly handsome.”

Eb raised one shortened eyebrow and gave Luna a dry look before pulling his blanket higher on his chair. “I believe you are biased.”

“So?”

After a period of silence, Eb uncomfortably rearranged himself and opened the book again. The faint distant noises of a busy House were muffled to near insignificance by the furnishings, even with his improved hearing. In a better time, this library would be a refuge from the world, but now it was the world, and a prime example of how things had changed over a thousand years, even moreso for him in the last few weeks. It brought to mind an uncomfortable realization which was impossible to ignore any more, particularly in this warm and inviting atmosphere that clashed to great extent with his recent disgraceful oath. He placed the unread book to one side and steeled his will to speak uncomfortable truths.

“Your Highness, I shall not argue with you inside this peaceful House. Nor will I contemplate taking your life, as I swore. Still, your infernal fire simmers in my gullet, disguised as warm coals but threatening to burst into flames at the slightest provocation. I had considered retiring to this House for the rest of my Days, but even that hath been stolen from me by your actions.”

“Me?” Luna straightened up slightly, only to slump back into the overstuffed chair. “Whyfor would you blame me for a theft which hath not happened yet? We shall admit to a certain… overexuberance in our original actions to fix your condition, but we see no reason why you cannot rest from your labors and spend your fading years playing with foals and telling stories around the fireplace.”

“Your magic exposed my temper, breathed upon it like a coal in tinder, and heaped with oil until it blazes with uncontrollable power,” said Eb levelly. “What good can come of my life here if I strike out and harm one of the youth who live here in such multitude? Although I will admit to a certain peace within their presence, it does not mask the risk of Nightmare’s magic finding a fel time to unleash its fury.”

At first, it looked as if Luna were prepared to argue the point, but after a time she returned to slumped comfort. “Thou art a dwarf among thy contemporaries, with knowledge of war centuries out of date. Still, since war seems to be an outdated concept among our ponies also, it would do little harm for you to remain in our employ, surrounded by armored military to observe your actions.”

* * *

It was late in the afternoon by the time Ebon Tide and Luna made it back to the hospital wing of the palace and sent Shining Armor back to his duties or entertainments, whichever was the case. The Tide family had provided no end of learning to both of them, with occasional additions or corrections added by the good Captain. It had been a time of great mental expansion, both in knowledge military and common life, which left Eb’s head whirling like a cyclone. The fresh breeze of Canterlot restored his mettle to a certain degree, buttressed by Bandaid’s quiet presence behind the wheelchair. The medical pony had respected their privacy and remained out in the common area until they were ready to depart, but Eb could not help but make private plans to corner him sometime and pry into the mysteries of medical science that had been uncovered during his abeyance.

That would wait for later. For now, one trip through the ornate stone corridors had left him with enough familiarity for Eb to keep track of his way as Bandaid silently pushed his wheelchair along. However, despite his own growing fatigue, his experience with the Royal Sisters twigged him to something else he had been ignoring for most of the Day.

“When was the last time you slept?”

Luna stumbled for just one moment before continuing just as deliberately as before, matching Eb step by step. “It is inconsequential,” she said some time later as they waited on a clever device called an ‘elevator.’

There were very few tricks that a Guard could use to talk sense into a Princess. Eb decided on the one most suited to his current situation. He got up from the wheelchair, took several steps to one side away from the silent and unobtrusive Bandaid, and sat down on the cold granite floor.

When the elevator doors slid open, he remained seated.

Luna was obviously deep in thought and did not realize what was happening until she entered the small mobile room and found herself alone. She turned with a scowl and regarded both Guard and Medic before lighting her horn.

“No,” said Eb. “I will not return to my room until you have gone to yours and gotten some rest.”

Bandaid ever so slowly turned only his eyes so he could watch Luna’s response, quite possibly so he would have fair warning to duck.

“Evenings have proven discomforting,” admitted Luna.

Still without moving his head, Bandaid looked back at Eb.

“Perhaps we should adorn thy room with jasmine as it was in the past,” said Eb. “I shall go forth to the gardens and pick you sufficient quantity that you might rest until your time to raise Moon. The palace does have gardens, does it not?” he asked, directing his attention to Bandaid.

“Um…” Given an opportunity to avoid being caught betwixt a roc and a hard place, the otherwise plain stallion began edging down the corridor sideways. “There’s a flower shop on the other side of the palace. I’ll go get you some… Lilacs? No, jasmine,” he corrected before bursting into motion. In moments, he was out of sight, around a corner of the corridors and still running from the distant rapid taps of his shoes.

“So nice to have servants who spring into action at your slightest whim.” Eb regarded the dark princess still standing impatiently in the small room. “You can either drag me kicking and screaming through the rest of the palace, showing the entirety of the staff just what a stubborn brat they have just gained as their Dread Sovereign, or you can quietly and respectfully allow your faithful Guard to escort you to your own sleeping chambers like a real princess. Your choice.”

“You will come into this el-vator now or I shall dismiss you from our service,” said Luna with a good bit of the snap that Eb expected. “That is an order.”

“I have a bad streak of disobeying orders lately. Fire me,” responded Eb.

“I could have you flogged,” snapped Luna, only to stop and reconsider her words. “Or whatever punishment this modern age feels appropriate,” she added more carefully.

“And I could go tell your sister,” said Eb.

“You wouldn’t dare!” hissed Luna.

“Try me.”

Luna could not meet his eyes, which was at least a positive indicator in the ongoing battle of wills. “There is a short walk and two flights of stairs you would have to climb, and I will not carry you.”

“The Royal Guard faces far worse threats every day.”

Ever so deliberately, Luna stepped out of the elevating room and proceeded down a hallway that Eb had never seen before. He followed at a brisk trot, trying to match Her Highness’ longer stride with his weakened legs. They made several turns during the journey while Eb grew increasingly out of breath, leaving him panting quietly at the doors to another one of the modern moving room devices.

“Your last chance,” said Luna with her hoof hovering over the call button.

Eb deliberately reached up and pushed against her leg, which made the magical button light up and the doors open. He strode inside and waited, holding himself in the same stiff pose he had done for a full decade in service to the Crown. Luna followed and stood by his side, allowing the door to close and the two of them to stand uncomfortably for a short time with Eb staring in bafflement at the glowing buttons and his hoof hovering over the numbers. Instead, a bright teal aura formed around the top button and the room gave an unexpected jolt of motion he had thought would not surprise him again.

Apparently, he was not alone. Luna’s feathered wings expanded away from her body as much as his dark membranous flight surfaces, and in the close confines of the elevator, they could not help but brush together. Luna was apparently unaffected, but Eb recoiled away and spent the rest of their elevating journey with one twitchy wing.

“The regrowth hath made them sensitive,” he grumbled as the elevator neared its destination.

“Soon, they will bear you up into the sky with the rest of your brethren.” Luna twitched slightly when the elevator doors opened and regarded the two alert pegasi Guards in the resulting open area with false calm. “Good Day, sirs. Warmaster Ebon Tide will be accompanying us to our bedchambers to ensure my rest.”

The leftmost Guard nodded. “Colonel Moutarde sent word that you were returning from House Glory a few minutes ago, and the workponies have all departed. We’ll keep you from being disturbed, ma’am.”

“Good.”

Luna stepped to one side so Eb could begin climbing the curving stairs in front of her, which a pragmatic portion of his mind whispered that it was so she could catch him when he fell down, rather than roll all the way back to the two stiff golden guards. The stone steps proved more difficult than Eb anticipated, rising up in front of him like an infinite series of tripping obstacles. In his prime, so long ago, Warmaster Tide would flow up the stairs like an unstoppable force, but not now. The stairs of House Glory had proven to be a similar hindrance to his exploration of Peanut Brittle’s fascinating home, with so many things to learn out of his reach.

“Do you think Sergeant Tide might be a relative of mine?” gasped Eb when he had gotten far enough up to stop without looking feeble and old.

“Perhaps through serendipity,” said Luna from behind him. “If you had been listening when Nurse Flutters was speaking, you would have known that the name Tide is a recent fluke to their family tree from a place called Apple Loosa. The Clans have a strong desire to avoid intermarriage in order to avoid weakening the blood, so it is understandable that there are so many variances.” The steady noise of Luna’s hoofsteps faltered, giving Eb a welcome respite for a few moments, but eventually she added, “I fear I have given them a rather bitter turnip in life, and they have turned it into many flowers.”

“There were so many ways that their… I mean our kind could have gone wrong after your imprisonment,” said Eb before standing back up and resuming his one-step-at-a-time conquest of Mount Canter, writ small.

“Truth. The lack of information irks us. We cannot tell if Our discussion was being carefully steered around sensitive subjects such as that or if records from that era are faded with time.”

“Sic one of your clerks upon the problem,” panted Eb, who decided that he was not going to stop until he reached the staircase landing or died.

“Tis the ever-present quandary of our position. Were we to send one of the bureaucrats upon this question, they would undoubtedly return with a twisted answer which pleases the bureaucracy or crafted to gain favor with myself.”

“Mumph,” managed Eb, who had caught sight of the landing above him and was saving his air for the climbing effort.

“Perhaps I should enlist one of Peanut Brittle’s young friends,” mused Luna, who did not sound the least out of breath from the climb so far. “The young colt, Pine Apple Square. He seems to be cut from curious cloth, at least from the number of books he was studying and the notes he took whilst I was speaking.”

“He would… Also be able… To write… more to our understanding,” gasped Eb, who could see the top step just at the end of his nose.

“Also true. We looked at some of the reports the physicians didst write upon your condition,” she said, managing to make the title sound like a profanity. “Sorting out the wheat from the chaff is far beyond us. Adults of this age write to be misunderstood. Perhaps a child can deliver where age fails us.”

- ☾ - -

It pained Luna to see Ebon Tide so wrought with the simple task of climbing stairs, so she moderated her brisk pace to match his own. After all, she bore a vast amount of blame for his infirmity, despite her protests to the contrary. In addition, he damped the terror she could not help but feel when looking into the smallest shadows that lurked about the palace in great numbers. Nightmare Moon was not so easily banished by the Elements of Harmony and lingered on beneath her skin, much like the ages marked Ebon Tide for torture. The familiar and uncomfortable was far superior a companion than empty bedchambers where every noise or shadow concealed unknown monstrosities.

In truth, he was a far more suitable companion this afternoon than any other serving guard. Sideways glances and rumors of the mythical cubiculum assignments would likewise follow any lesser pony who took her into the bedroom. It made her wonder if the handsome Shining Armor might possibly have been directed in Princess Cadence’s direction by Celestia, despite the snippets of information the handsome stallion had let slip over the last few hours of their journey.

No, Celly was far too trusting and straightforward to corrupt the morals of a Guard in that fashion, even though Shining Armor had explained that he had known the third alicorn ever since some sort of preparatory school and far before he had taken up the mantle of service. Although it might have been possible that his reasoning concealed some sort of unconscious desire to remain close to the pretty young princess… No, make that a positive, not a probable. He was truly ‘hooked’ as the mares of her era might say, and all that was left was the long road to betrothal and the marriage bed.

Inadvertently, her gaze fell upon Ebon Tide’s scrawny rear end and the faint tracery of a black wave cresting upon his flanks as his grey coat grew in. Just because the Royal Sisters did not officially dabble among the desires of mortals, in particular the Guard, did not mean Luna had never thought about the possibility. In his prime, Eb was a looker indeed, and it was only with the faintest bit of regret that Luna had presided over the wedding ceremony when he had taken Calla for a bride. She was beautiful in a way that all mares in love are, and their daughters had much the same grace and stature. Thinking about them made legions of dead ponies rise up in her memory, a vast collection of spectres long past and gone. What had happened to them, where had they gone after their father was lost? Perhaps Celestia would know, or some records survived over the years. Provided, of course, she could ever talk to Celestia again without losing her temper.

In any event, it was useless musing, best saved for the morrow. Or later.

“We have reached my bedchambers,” said Luna flatly, trying her best to ignore the dust and incomplete mosaics that would someday make the huge onyx door into something worthy of her station instead of a propped-open slab of stone with small pieces of parchment… no, paper stuck onto it with instructions on how it was to be seated when construction finished.

“You sleep in the debris and slumber to the sound of artisans and craftsponies.” Ebon Tide continued to move forward and vanished into the darkness beyond the doorway, although his voice continued to filter out, burdened with the fatigue of their long journey. “How the mighty have fallen. Perhaps you should take my hospital room instead.”

Each of the few times that Luna had seen her new rooms had always been different experiences with similar parts. Furniture had been moved in and out between each visit, with no apparent planning and no advice asked from the room occupant. Likewise, the walls and ceiling had suffered indignities from both paint and sculpture, with different crafters each attempting to overwhelm the other in portraying a multitude of lunar impressions, each more inaccurate than the next. Far beneath it all, the rooms smelled of different ponies, the recent scent of Twilight Sparkle smothering an older scent of a young mare who must have departed at least a decade ago. Most of all, the rooms smelled of stallions, sweating over their labors, painting and plastering while Luna was absent, but leaving a tangible trace of their presence for hours afterward.

This afternoon was no different. The room was covered in vast expanses of rough cloth, protecting the furniture from dust and drips of paint even though the drawers were empty and the closets bare. All she really needed was a bed, and even that was optional.

Ebon Tide was investigating the area as he should be, looking under cloths and into dark corners. Luna ignored him and proceeded into the shower room, the one artifice of modern life that she really appreciated because it was so simple. A single lever adjusted the temperature of the artificial waterfall, which was far better than taking whatever water the old castle plumbing managed to creak and groan into their shared bathing chamber. There was even soap a far cry better than the caustic lye mixture that used to burn the tender skin beneath her mane, and something called ‘conditioner’ to ease the pain of tangled snarls.

“So this is the bed upon which royalty doth lie now,” sounded Eb’s voice from the other room. “Tis a vast soft cushion of great— Help! It has eaten me!”

His cries of panic were a great relief to Luna, and allowed her a brief moment of mirth over the memory of her having the exact same reaction to the gargantuan bed. Whoever had decided to stuff it into her chambers had not considered the relative size differences of alicorns, for the bed must have been one of Celestia’s old and discarded ones. No doubt there was much of her sister’s old things stuffed into various storerooms and corners, too worn to be used and too important to be disposed of in whatever way the modern era had decreed.

She completed her limited bath and toilette in short order, the habits of many years prior serving to hurry her actions lest the ancient plumbing fail and leave her covered in slimy lye soap. A brisk rubbing with the fresh towels left her feeling far better, although she emerged with her coat still slightly damp in the cool afternoon breeze that blew through the open windows.

Eb greeted her with a vicious glare at where he was bracing his forelegs on the side of the bed, with his hindquarters buried somewhere in the mess of blankets occupying the center, much as if he had fallen into quicksand.

“We thought you could swim,” said Luna.

Eb did not respond, other than to glare slightly harder. He did at least relax when she used her magic to float him out of his soft prison, and restrained his profanity to a near-inaudible mutter of one regret as he vanished into her bathroom to use the toilet.

“Shoulda wet it.”

His thrashing about had made a royal mess out of the Royal Bedcovers, so Luna proceeded to peel off about half of the thick blankets that were unneeded in the cool mountain air. Celestia may have desired such an overload of fluff and fabric, but Luna could sleep on a snowdrift and be comfortable. She was still tucking and arranging when Eb came out of the bathroom, obviously attempting to disguise his extreme fatigue under a layer of stiff formality.

“We shall stay up and read for a time,” said Luna in a successful attempt to provoke a reaction.

“You will go to sleep,” said Eb firmly, much as if he were addressing a disobedient child.

“I’m not sleepy,” said Luna despite an overwhelming urge to yawn. She took out the short stack of books she had borrowed from House Glory’s library and placed them on the nightstand, then removed her slim cloth saddlebag to drape across one of the bedposts. “There is much for me to catch up on. Even foals have knowledge that I lack. Take this, for example.”

She opened a colorful book and pointed to the painting of a yellow duck named Quackers waddling through what was called a ‘zoo.’ “Many races and creatures unknown to us have been discovered during my imprisonment. An afternoon of study will greatly enhance our return to the throne.”

Eb grunted once, then his yellow eyes slid sideways to look at the remaining books. “If only these were available when my daughters were born. They would entertain themselves for hours, drawing the most imaginative creatures upon slates.”

“We are not certain that one is real,” said Luna as he picked up a book about hunting wumpuses, or wumpsi, or however the accusative plural of the creature would be, or even what gender. “You are welcome to rest and read here for the moment before returning to your room. We… would appreciate the company,” she admitted reluctantly.

After another indeterminate grunt, the Guard settled down upon the blankets that Luna had set aside the bed and opened his book, with the bibliophilic princess following suit. There was a certain undeniable pleasure to an afternoon spent reading in bed, and having the faint rustling of turning pages in the background kept the monsters of her imagination away.

Several chapters later, she realized the accompanying pageish noises had transitioned into an unfamiliar sound of quiet snoring, which upon further examination came from Ebon Tide. Somehow he had twisted up sideways with What To Do When Your Foal Begins To Glow draped over one hoof, a wing hooded over his head, a hind leg thrown partway over the lower shelf of the nightstand, and most the rest of his body twisted in ways that made Luna seriously wonder if she had perhaps included any serpent bits in the spell which gave the nocturnal ponies their attributes. Thankfully, the thought did not turn her stomach like she anticipated, even after she spent several minutes watching Eb with the warm light of afternoon cascading through her room and a light breeze stirring the curtains.

Nightmare Moon was a bleeding wound opened in her heart over petty slights and misunderstandings, amplified by Celestia’s own proximity and their differences. She loved Celly with all of her soul, but there were times when that love turned into hate ten times as strong. Worse, it had not been merely her own sister hurt by their most recent battle. She had drawn her own guards and families into the conflict, only for them to be ground up and spit out into the flames. As much as she wanted to ignore it, having Ebon Tide at her side was a treasure beyond mere value, because he forced her to face up to her flaws.

A bond had been formed between them during their imprisonment, not merely from the spiteful guilt that had driven her to such dramatic measures, but he formed a mirror of her own into which she could see the consequences of said actions and why it must never be permitted to happen again. A mirror in which she could see changes in both of them, positive changes in two ponies thrown into a strange world. A Guard to hide behind when faced with embarrassing situations, somepony who also did not understand just why it was taken so casually to see ponies of different tribes strolling side-by-side, or races which had once been mortal enemies of ponykind now walking the streets as wealthy citizens. Somebody to explore together the mysteries of ‘moving pictures’ and ‘peep shows’ which she had seen written in the odd ‘newspapers’ of the modern era. Somepony with the same questions and expectations so she would not feel so… alone.

She settled back down on her pillow with the book tucked onto the nightstand and a feather in it for a bookmark just a few moments before slumber overtook her also.

It was the best sleep she had in the last thousand years.

15. Distracting Deployment

The Last Nightguard
Distracting Deployment

“In the event of deployment to an undeveloped area, you may not be provided with a barracks, so be prepared to establish a field expedient shelter from a poncho or loose cloud materials. Take care to only use wild clouds and not anything that might be claimed by local residents, and keep your shelter small so it does not draw unwanted attention.”
—Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume One

Light was Dark and Day was Night. Ebon Tide had no problems at all sleeping in the rays of sunlight that filled Luna’s bedroom, but now that Night had fallen, something deep in his heart drove him to wakefulness. With a quiet yawn, he moved the covering warm wing to one side, caught in the beautiful haze of memory. There were many, many evenings when Calla would entice him to remain in their bed rather than see him vanishing into the darkness on the way to his job. It had become a wonderful habit, broken forever when a fever had taken her far before her time, and now the feathers—

Eb’s eyes opened wide, taking in the sharp images of Luna’s unfinished bedroom and in particular the warm dark wing spread out over the edge of the bed and coincidentally himself. There was little doubt to the ownership of said wing due to the locale and size, but Eb held himself perfectly immobile while his mind tried its best to catch up with reality.

Before he could do much more than blink several times, Luna poked her nose over the edge of the bed and looked down at him, her deep teal eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ah, that is where that horrid noise is coming from. Did you know you snored?”

“The pot calling names unto the kettle,” responded Eb instinctually. “Twice I awoke to the music of the night, undamped by doorway or distance. The Guards posted to your room had always claimed you had a Royal Canterlot Snore, but we did not ever experience it at such close range.”

That set Luna giggling and she eased herself back into bed, followed by a book from the nightstand. “We have accomplished our task for the eve, and have decided to return to our educational odyssey for a few hours. Perhaps we shall arise at middle-night and see to a snack. You are welcome to remain—”

“Nay,” declared Ebon Tide just as forcefully as he could while carrying out the strenuous task of rising to his hooves. “Too long have I lain slug-a-bed when my duty awaits. Your fel magic doth churn in my blood with the light of the moon, so I might as well be productive with the time I have been gifted.”

“Do you plan to wage war upon Equestria’s enemies, Warleader?” asked Luna with a quirk to one eyebrow indicating her fey mood.

“I do not believe Equestria has any enemies left to fall upon,” admitted Eb. “I plan on examining the fitness of what Guards you still have. Perhaps in case of invasion, we might roll a few of them down a hill in order to disrupt the assault.”

He headed for the door to Luna’s quarters, paused, then turned for the bathroom instead. It was going to be difficult enough to force his stiff joints and aching muscles down the stairs without trying to find a bathroom in the maze of palace passages.

* * *

Progress was relative. In his day, Eb would have been glad to get a forest stream of tepid water to bathe in. Now, water of whatever degree of warmth sprayed forth at the touch of a metal device, and a vast selection of mane care potions and oozing slimes could be found within easy reach for the cleansing of manes. That is if he had more than the thin fuzz like a swamp-peach, and his skin did not cringe away from the astringent spray. He was extremely careful when washing, feeling the curdled bits of dry skin flake away under the warm water and a sense of peace begin to form. Only when he was done and the entire chamber wiped down to dry did he reluctantly consider his strange new wings.

They itched.

As a pegasus, he was no stranger to preening. Itching was the first indication of a needed preen, after all. Without feathers to oil, the process seemed strange, and the dry oil from his preening gland ineffective on the broad stretches of his new wings. By sampling, he found a small bottle of oil in the vast collection of mane care products that had been stuffed into Luna’s cabinets. It left his wings a little sticky, but at least they did not itch while he strode past the distracted princess and out into the corridor. Thankfully, the stairs went down from the Royal Bedroom, which only let the abused tendons of his legs scream a little as he picked his way down to where the two armored Guards watched his path.

“Guards. Report,” said Eb once he reached the bottom. It was an excuse to stop walking, and a fairly poor one because the duty of a door Guard was nothing. As long as nothing happened, there was nothing to do. Since they were doing nothing, nothing had happened. Well, other than a number of fresh jasmine flowers in wall hangers that filled the corridors with a pleasing scent.

“Warmaster Ebon Tide,” said the first Guard. “All is well. Nothing to report.”

“Nothing at all,” said the second with a subdued smirk.

Once he recognized that smirk, an ancient memory flooded in and raised the churning morass of anger in his gut. Ever so slowly, Eb turned his gaze on the second guard.

“Does something strike you as humorous?”

The smirk vanished, at least on the surface. “No, sir.”

Eb would have continued, but the elevating room took that moment to give out a sharp musical note and the doors slid open. An energetic unicorn in gleaming armor strode out, looking every inch the model of Guard strength and efficiency and making Eb feel small and feeble by comparison.

“Captain Shining Armor,” he said, stepping forward and saluting.

“Coincidence?” asked Eb, giving the two Guards a sideways glance.

“Speaking tube,” said Shining Armor. He gave a nod to a mechanical device on the nearby wall. “Standing order when the door guards hear the sound of the toilets flushing first thing in the morning, or evening for Princess Luna now. Word was relayed to me and I came at once to escort you to… wherever you wish to go tonight.”

“I have an educational lesson first. Can you explain to your Guards what the Cubiculum is?” Eb turned his head slightly to look at the two baffled pegasi, although Shining Armor sucked in a quick breath.

“I’d rather not,” said the captain. “Is that an order?”

After brief consideration, Eb shook his head. “My knowledge is sincerely dated. I shall tell you what I know, and you shall fill in the gaps for the children here. In short, the word ‘cubiculum’ means ‘small room’ in Old Equish. In less polite terms, it is a supposed group of stallions kept to satisfy the carnal desires of the Princesses.”

None of the three looked particularly shocked by the news, although Shining Armor kept his stern composure the best, most likely because he had faced the worst of the rumors and innuendo due to his relationship with the pretty pink Princess Cadence.

“At one time,” continued Ebon Tide, “there was a particular Guard who encouraged such rumors instead of properly dealing with them. Eventually, his loose tongue caught the attention of Her Highness, which of them I am uncertain. In short, he vanished one evening. The next evening, he appeared again. Never a word did he ever speak of it, but his behavior was completely changed. The word spread amongst the Guard, and that word became extinct.”

The silence was exquisite. It lasted far too briefly.

“Beg pardon, Warleader.” One of the Guards gave a brief sniff and waved one wing to stir up a breeze. “If’n you don’t want nopony thinking in that particular direction, why do your wings smell like… um…”

Shining Armor cleared his throat. “It’s a lubricant used during intercourse.”

The whole world seemed to flip upside-down, preventing Eb from doing more than breathe.

“From your expression,” continued Shining Armor, “you did not know that when you applied it to your wings. I’m presuming some well-intentioned palace staff member stocked Princess Luna’s cabinets with everything they could imagine.”

“The staff could use less imagination,” managed Eb. “Remain here.”

The trip back up the stairs to Princess Luna’s bedroom took far less time than before. He vanished into the bathroom shower and scrubbed with the intensity of his youth, only emerging once his wings itched like he had been rolling through nettles. He took the infernal bottle when he strode back downstairs, past the impassive form of Luna working her way through yet another book in bed, and back to the three waiting Guards.

“Better?” he asked, getting close enough to brush his bare skin against their noses.

“Yes, sir.” The Guard nudged a small trash can forward and Eb dropped the bottle into it.

“Besides,” offered Eb in a futile attempt at humor, “attempting intimacy with Her Highness would certainly kill me, if not from the activity, then her reaction to such a request.”

* * *

As much as Ebon Tide wanted to resume his training and sweat in the dueling circles until he had regained at least some of his previous strength, he currently would be outmatched by Peanut Brittle and one of her little friends. Even walking to the Guard training area with Shining Armor at his side left him out of breath.

It was progress, small and frustrating but still welcome.

He found it difficult to remember how helpless and unbalanced he had been just a few short weeks ago, and so easy to recall his time a thousand years ago instead. It was more comfortable, filled with memories of good things instead of the screaming gulf of lunar insanity that filled the gap between now and then. A time when he was young and strong. A time when the world was simple, and the word of the Princesses was law. A time that would never come again, a childhood for a crippled old stallion a few tottering steps from the grave.

“Captain,” said Eb after they had been introduced to a substantial number of exercising Guards, including several batponies. “There is hope for us after all. Physically, at least. It seems Crupper is not the model of the modern Guard.” Eb slowed to a halt and looked up. And up.

The batwinged pony in front of them looked down, then saluted. “Private Pansy,” he rumbled.

“Captain Shining Armor,” said Shining Armor with a nod to one side. “And Warleader Ebon Tide.”

“Grats on your promotion,” said Pansy. His head turned ever so slowly to look Eb in the eyes. “Welcome back, sir.”

“My word,” he breathed. “You’re a big one. Doth any of your fellow Guards ever make merry with your name?”

“Never twice,” said Pansy. “I take it you’re not here to spar?”

“No,” said Eb. “I have no desire to die so quickly after having dodged the Pale Mare until now.”

“Pansy is in training to be a trainer,” said Armor. “He’s gentle as a kitten, and if you want to re-learn all of our modern combat skills, I can think of no better Guard to supervise your journey.”

“Speaking of a journey, I’ll be wanting quarters nearby instead of all the way over at the palace.” Eb looked around. “Normally, the barracks are in the near vicinity.”

“I made preparations to have you set up in the married officer housing. That will give you more space for any private physical therapy or meetings with medical staff,” said Armor. “Pansy will meet with you in the early evening to coordinate training and other activities. Unless you are dining with Their Highnesses or have other duties, in which case training will wait until later at night,” he added without even a trace of the snide arrogance Eb had begun to expect from lesser officers.

Pansy spoke up suddenly. “Officers have access to the steamroom and hot baths. If you don’t have any physical therapy scheduled yet, I’ll arrange for one of the staff to take care of it whenever it fits into your schedule. The steamroom feels mighty good after that.”

Shining Armor shrugged. “As you can see, Pansy could easily ascend the ranks to the general staff, but he plans on leaving the service after his term is over.”

“I like arranging flowers,” said the hulking batpony, looking perfectly comfortable with his decision and not angry at being tweaked over it. It was a sensation of completeness that Eb had difficulty understanding with the underlying simmer of dark magic in his gut, but Pansy was centered like the whole world turned around him. It was yet another concept that Eb was trying to come to grips with, since his compatriots lived and died in the Guard with a very few leaving from old age or missing limbs. The modern Guards had just as much of an edge on their training and dedication, but many of them planned careers after, which just baffled Eb’s older mind.

Once Shining Armor returned to his duties, leaving Eb in the competent care of his new trainer, there were a few questions that needed answers— that is bat answers, not unicorn answers.

“My wings are itching like fire,” grumbled Eb. “I know how to preen,” he added at the rather uncomfortable look that came over the big batpony at the presumed idea of lecturing his superior officer on a simple hygiene task that pegasi were supposed to learn as foals. “I don’t know how to properly preen these kinds of wings, though. And my preening gland is still dry as moondust. Suggestions?”

* * *

An ‘officer club’ seemed to be a rather odd thing to Ebon Tide’s antiquated mind. Officers and soldiers served in the same way, ate the same mud, and bled in the same distant soils. In his day, an officer who placed his own physical comforts above those of his soldiers would soon find something rather uncomfortable in their near future. To make matters worse, the doorkeeper attempted to keep Private Pansy out.

Eb took great pride in holding his temper while informing the unfortunate wretch that he could either permit Warleader Ebon Tide’s personal aide to enter, or Pansy would be dispatched to return with Her Dread Highness, and the two of them would enter the club anyway. He wanted to include a threat about greasing their path with the obstinate fool’s blood, but that would probably upset his nervous aide. The stern lecture worked anyway, and word traveled fast enough that civilian servants and officers alike cleared their path like leaves before a gale.

The attraction of the familiar drew him near the bar, only not a bar as he had once known with wooden tankards and ale to make the memories go away. Glass had replaced rough-hewn wooden barrels containing what he suspected to be far more powerful drinks that would wreck his weakened body in a few gulps. He excused passing by the temptation instead with the excuse that he was only looking at the moment, and when he had recovered some of his previous vigor, he would raise a traditional drink to family and comrades long gone to dust and blown away.

“A spa,” observed Eb as the fairly hasty tour concluded at a closed door with the aforementioned sign. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Officers and enlisted have different sides in here,” rumbled Pansy. “Other’n that, it’s the same facilities. Manecutter visits once a week, which you probably won’t need for a bit. The preeners work split shifts, so the ladies from my clan are probably on right now.”

Eb could barely remember the subtle dance of clan names and Houses when visiting Peanut Brittle’s family. It was certainly a complicated topic that warranted some serious study to find out which political factions were pressing for power with the rediscovery of Princess Luna. As a Guard, he was forbidden from taking political stands, but there were always exceptions and ponies who took great pleasure in seeing how close to the line they could tread without being trod upon. Some of the foolish were Guards back then, and certainly in the modern era too.

A little treading upon the uncautious treaders would be good for his recovery.

For now, he merely followed his aide into the facility, taking in the marble tiles and shining gadgets which could have easily paid for a division or two of slingers or thunder-stompers. Then again, it seemed to provide employment for a whole division of older batpony mares, who looked up at him with eager eyes when the two of them walked into some sort of massage area with padded benches and the scent of oils in the humid air.

“Warmaster Tide!” An older mare with a mane gone entirely to grey stepped forward, motioning back the other attendants with a wave of a wrinkled wing. “We were hoping to see you in the officer’s club sometime, but this is far sooner than we expected. Come in and have a seat.”

“He needs a preening, Missus Gust,” rumbled Pansy. “Be gentle. He’s just out of the hospital wing and Flutter would be upset if you put him back there. She’s my aunt,” he added to Eb. “Not in a direct lineage, but you’ll find House and clan connections are just a bit convoluted.”

“There’s been a lot of ancestor checking lately,” admitted Gust as she helped guide Eb’s unsteady path to the waiting bench. “Records back then are more fiction than anything. Unicorns seem to think Princess Platinum had more children than a kennel of pups.”

“I’m related to her,” said one of the somewhat younger batponies who was getting Eb’s rear hoof into a stirrup for stability. She had a pale streak of pure silvery-pink in her mane which at least could have come from that line, but it still was difficult for Eb to think of a unicorn mating into a line of batponies, made only worse by the young mare’s next words. “Mum always said we had unicorns in our family way back, or at least she started saying it when I gave birth to Archer. My whole family has this little bump on the top of our heads, but Archer’s is a real horn.”

“I thought your family picked up an astronomer about five generations back,” said a different batpony mare.

Missus Gust quelled the ongoing speculation about various horned and winged relatives and set her mares about the delicate task of oiling his wings, which they took far too much pleasure doing. They still chattered about family and ancestry, which Eb listened to with more than a little concealed fascination. There did not seem to be any assigned marriages or House fights over producing heirs like in his day, but there was a lot of subtle competition in who had the best talents in their families.

There was even talk about some of the family members attending a school for talented unicorns which Princess Celestia had loaned her name to. And not some sort of secret conclave with hidden rituals and an extremely limited number of students, or even old crabby unicorns like Starswirl taking on apprentices until they could no longer stand the old coot. No, this was an organized and structured public institution with hundreds of young unicorns who displayed their works for proud parents and relatives. No doubt the same could be said about the other two races of ponies, with open schools and far fewer secrets hidden from all outsiders.

It was all so natural and familiar that Eb lost track of time, luxuriating in the feel of so many mares paying attention to his itching wings, only for that sense of peace to come crashing down when Gust nudged him on the side and tried to turn him over.

“Woah. No!” he declared, getting a good grip on the massage table.

“Don’t worry,” snickered one of the older batpony mares who added her cold nose to his nearly bare side in an attempt to flip him. “It’s nothing we ain’t seen before. Iris, grab a towel to toss over the shy gentlecolt.”

Despite his best efforts, a half-dozen experienced mares were more than able to get Eb rolled over onto his back, where there was a sudden hush that fell across his attendants.

“Oh, my,” said one.

“I better… get two towels,” said Iris, nosing into a pile of rough white cloth.

“Yesss,” said Gust slowly, taking a moment to swallow and look away. “Sorry about that, Warmaster Tide. That’s…”

“Average,” said Eb. “I’m sorry, ladies.”

“I’m not,” said one of them, only to be hushed by her peers.

“Stallions normally get a little excited during preening,” said Gust, arranging a pair of towels over his exposed delicates. “I guess since it’s been a thousand years since…”

“Stop right there,” said Eb, who had managed to recover a tiny bit of his authority with the placement of the towels. “We presume the role of prostitute still exists, but were I to take advantage of such a mare, it would probably kill me in my current state.”

“I know a really gentle—” managed one of the mares before being hushed again.

“Oil, ladies,” said Gust firmly. “You know the rules.”

It was at least a full minute of silent wing oiling before Eb cleared his throat. “What rules?”

“No nookie,” said one of the mares immediately, which Eb mentally translated into the most appropriate metaphor for sex.

“No encouraging the guards into relationships with any friend or family member,” said a different mare. “And no asking about it either. What gets said here, stays here.”

“No money, honey,” recited another mare. “No groping, you dope. No… um…”

Gust leaned down and whispered into Eb’s ear. It made sense, although the idea of a mare doing that to a stallion in front of others was practically incomprehensible. The quieter group of mares finished his underwing preening in fairly short order and rolled him back over to begin a cautious massage, which ended almost as fast as it started.

“There’s no muscles to rub down,” admitted Gust after some cautious poking, “and not enough of a coat grown in to protect your skin from hooves. I don’t think even Camshaft could do a proper job. She’s a minotaur,” added Gust when Eb twisted around to look up at her. “Can bend a shoe into a pretzel or catch a butterfly on the wing without hurting it.”

“We shall just have to put on some muscle,” said Eb. “Frankly, getting out of bed is a chore right now, but when we return to something resembling our previous level of health, we shall see about requesting her assistance.”

16. Reveille

The Last Nightguard
Reveille

“Just a reminder, commercial sunglasses are not permitted to be worn with uniform armor even during sunrise and sunset. This also applies to hats and scarves, even if they are Sun or Moon-themed.”
—General Circulation Memo after the ‘Sunset Sunglasses Incident’

Dawn was bringing Ebon Tide a new experience with every new Sun.

This one was particularly uncomfortable.

He was not a pillow. In particular, he was not a pillow to Her Highness, Ruler of the Moon and Night Sky. Or at least he was not supposed to be. Reality differed from rules at the moment, and Princess Luna was heavy. A few days ago, he would have been in serious danger of being suffocated to death by her bulk, which would have been so terribly ironic that he almost laughed.

He managed a brief wheeze instead.

“Mgumph?” Princess Luna, his Dread Sovereign, lifted her head up and away from his bare belly even though she was still technically connected to Eb by a long thread of saliva.

“Get up,” he managed. “Thy obese tonnage doth crush me into a flatcake. ‘Tis a posture most unbecoming of thy station in life. Get thy fat— Ommph!”

Luna dropped her head back onto his belly, wriggled a bit to get comfortable, and let out a soothing purr.

“You are not a cat,” said Eb sternly.

Luna purred again, although there was a bit of a giggle in it.

It was the role of the Guard to protect their charges, but Sun was barely up, and Eb had the tolerance of a badger with a bad tooth. He was still not used to sleeping during the day and waking in the evening, so his ire bubbled around his belly without an appropriate outlet. It helped that Luna was obviously happy, and a happy princess did not invoke the forces of darkness in order to become Nightmare Moon again, so…

“Good news deserves to be shared,” he managed despite the weight. “We take it thy setting of Moon this morn proceeded well?”

A faint wave of tension swept across Luna’s body, but she did not respond for quite some time. Eb waited, because there was little else he could do in his current situation.

“We did not speak,” said Luna at last. “Perhaps we never will again. Our words pit us against each other far too well. But it was so pleasant to be with her again.”

“True,” admitted Eb. “I am… pleased that you are not fighting. I am scarcely in a position to separate you like I once did with my children, and you are far too old to be sent to your rooms.”

“They are painting our chambers.” Luna sniffed. “It may take a night or two in order to dry, so—”

“So you are destroying my lecture on the Cubiculum by resting within my bedchambers.” Eb strained to move to one side of the soft mattress and would never have been able to make it if Luna had not shifted her position to assist. “We are not wed, nor are we secret lovers. Yet your presence here will cause rumors to flourish like wildthunder. You have not matured a moment since your abeyance.”

“My sister has changed,” said Luna from her side of the bed, where she had curled up sufficiently to prevent Eb from draping one limb out of the covers to make some space. “She is no longer the wild and free spirit we so appreciated when our moods overcame us.”

“Hire a jester,” grumbled Eb.

“Why?” Luna shifted position and stretched, extending just a bit over the top and bottom of the bed. “We have a perfectly good stallion to serve in such stead.”

“You are using me,” said Eb, turning just enough so he could watch Luna from one eye. “Guilt and anger are bitter seeds to swallow without your sister’s ridiculous antics, so you turn to the one creature in all of the palace that you know will obey your commands and not treat you as some ancient relic with no relevance in the modern age.”

“Possibly,” said Luna, who had stopped squirming around on the bed to get comfortable. She fluffed up the pillow on her side, then considered it with far more intent scrutiny than a piece of cloth and feathers deserved. “More than possibly,” she admitted. “How did you know?”

“Because I feel like an ancient relic with no relevance in this modern age,” he growled. “I am a warleader without a war, much like you are a princess with no overwhelming task to accomplish every eve. How long before your weakness and vanity betrays our country again, only this time without your sister to thwart your fel desire for power? I should have killed you already and saved the world from a great threat.”

Without saying a word, Luna leaned toward Ebon Tide and bared her neck.

“As if.” Eb bared his gums and exposed the short white stubs of growing teeth. “Should I clamp my jaws down upon your neck and chew, all I would do is give you pleasure much like some young filly with a colt nibbling in forbidden places.”

“That…” Luna lashed her tail against the mattress.

“Perhaps you would prefer the punishment of the Guard,” he went on. “A quirt drenched in salt water. Dereliction of duty, five lashes. Cowardice in the face of the enemy, ten lashes. Sleeping on sentry duty, twenty lashes. Were there a punishment for betraying our country, you would be lashed day and night without end until the blood flowed and—”

Eb caught a glance at the face that Luna was making, with her eyes nearly closed and her breath coming rapidly and shallow. At first he did not recognize the expression because it was practically unthinkable, but the implication soaked in through his thin skin like ice water and he practically leapt from the bed.

“Y-you’re aroused!”

“We are not!” declared Luna, but eroded that decisive statement by promptly backtracking. “It’s just that… we deserve to be punished!”

“Not like that!” protested Eb, who had backed up in the bedroom until his bare rump touched the cool metal of the door.

Wait. The bedroom door is not made out of metal. But armor—

“Warleader Ebon Tide,” sounded Shining Armor’s deep and very sincere voice from directly behind him. “Princess Luna. Beg pardon for disturbing your time off, but Princess Cadence requested the pleasure of your company this morning for breakfast, if you were not otherwise engaged.”

There should have been some sort of smirk on the new captain’s face when Eb managed to get turned around and look. There was not. Shining Armor was the perfect model of an official Guard with a straight face and not even a hint of the giggles. Upon even a small bit of reflection, Eb remembered that he was the intimate companion of the Princess of Love, and therefore might have already been exposed to far more compromising and personal experience than the one Eb found himself in the middle of right now.

Maybe.

On the other hoof, behind the stoic captain stood Private Pansy, looking much like a young recruit who had just stepped on a Minotaur wiremine with a ‘click’ and was waiting to see if the resulting explosive coil of razorwire would hurt before it dismembered him. There had obviously been a relaxed expression of mirth on the large pegasus’s face just a few moments ago, because small fragments of it still remained in sharp contrast to the look of abject terror that was growing exponentially every moment.

“Pansy,” said Shining Armor without even looking behind him, “at ease.”

“But—” started Pansy.

“At ease,” repeated Shining Armor over his shoulder before turning back to Ebon Tide. “Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.”

“Nothing happened,” said Eb, frantically attempting to grab onto one tiny fragment of solidity in an ocean of embarrassment. Her Highness had even taken off her crown when she got into his bed, leaving the alicorn princess completely and totally naked, although still slightly more dressed than his hairless self.

For one long and terrifying moment, Eb thought Princess Luna was about to contradict him just out of sheer spite, but she restrained herself to a low grumbling noise before raising her voice slightly. “Good Captain, will my sister be present?”

“I… did not ask,” said Shining Armor in what seemed to be as close as he could get to lying.

“No,” said Luna, placing her head back upon the pillow. “We are greatly fatigued with the activity of the Night, and wish to rest. Ebon Tide will provide Our security. You are dismissed.”

Shining Armor saluted and turned, although Pansy looked to have frozen in place and was blocking his path of retreat. Showing remarkable field strength for a unicorn, Armor lit his horn and lifted the hefty pegasus just like he was hoisting a feather, then stepped out of the room and closed the door as he moved.

Silence reigned briefly in the bedroom.

Far too briefly.

“We shall not make it an order,” said Luna as she settled down on top of the thin coverlet. “Nor a request. Not even a suggestion. We are sleeping here. You may sleep wherever you please.”

“Because of the paint,” said Eb flatly.

“That shall be Our explanation, if any are foolish enough to ask.”

Eb was foolish enough to ask, but hesitated as he saw something in the alicorn that made him think of his own long-departed children and how they viewed the unknown darkness of evening. She should not have been afraid of her own Night, because she was the Princess of the Moon after all. Besides, the warmth of morning Sun eased its way in through the curtains, chasing away the darkness.

Or at least the kind of darkness that only affected the eyes. The seething darkness that wrapped around the heart was far more reluctant to pry free. Eb knew that far too well now.

The proper place for a serving Guard would have been outside the door, standing at alert until his charge awoke. Currently, Eb was barely able to stand. If he attempted to fulfill his duties, Pansy would have to sweep him off the floor and pour him into a bucket to be returned to the hospital with all the odd scents and peculiar ponies therein.

In addition, he would be exposed to the visits of Peanut Brittle and her small relatives, pests who could not recognize him for the corrupted creature he was and Princess Luna as the source of that corruption.

It tore him in half while watching Luna spread out on the bed, eyes closed and faking her slow breathing as if she were not frightened nigh unto death by this new world. She was his liege, the mare who he had promised to defend with his life, to the last drop of his blood. And yet she was an evil mare who had betrayed her position, her subjects, and her own sister, all in search for power. To put that behind himself, to forgive such a crime…

“I cannot forgive you,” he spoke under his breath, “and yet I cannot abandon you in your need. Perhaps this will change as time passes. Your fel magic fills me with hatred that itches to be released upon your helpless body. How can you trust me to lie with you?”

“Trust is not a balance,” said Luna into her pillow. “We extend it as a leap of faith, beyond any exchange. It is a gift, given from the heart, and when a similar gift is given in return, the unity of their combined powers exceed all else. If you accept this gift for now and extend your own, it shall be a small step to my redemption and your recovery. From such small steps over long times do mighty deeds unfold.”

They were mighty words, far more powerful than his own children had used when they needed the presence of their father to keep away the terrors of the night. He had spent many nights on the floor by their bedsides, reassuring the young fillies with his presence after the passing of their mother. Having the world dropped on you unexpectedly could crush even a princess, but with his support, Plum and Heli had grown into lovely young ladies.

Before they were snatched away by Nightmare Moon and thrown a thousand years beyond his life.

“Scoot over,” he eventually mumbled as he lowered himself to the side of the bed. “Were I to sleep on the floor as I did for my children, there would be much to pay for in the morning. Or evening, as my life defines time to awaken now.”

“Thou art a married stallion,” murmured Luna as she moved slightly to her side of the bed. “Even though your life’s bond has passed long ago, she still lives within your heart, as do your daughters. We seek not entry into that place. It would be improper even if you were young and without romantic entanglements, for our position forbids such dalliances even as your oath does for you.”

Eb thought he would be unable to sleep with Princess Luna so close.

He was proven wrong almost immediately.

As well as just before Moon’s rising, in a far different fashion.

17. Bitter Medicine

The Last Nightguard
Bitter Medicine

“Under the Uniform Code of Equestrian Justice (UCEJ), any member of the armed forces can be punished for failure to report for duty if prosecutors can show that he or she, without authority failed to go to his or her appointed place of duty at the time prescribed, went from his or her appointed place of duty…”
—Failure to Repair - Royal Guard Academy UCEJ training course, second year

“Psst.”

As a method of awakening, it was quite effective, because once Eb heard the noise he knew it would continue until he responded. Sun was still firmly up in the sky, bathing the bedchambers in warm although slanted beams, and showing Peanut Brittle’s golden eyes contracted to thin slits.

“Are you awake?”

It was a question Eb was not quite ready to answer. Old habits chided him for sleeping through the Day, but crushing fatigue and pained muscles from last night urged him to simply close his eyes and resume his slumber. Then there was Duty…

“Your Highness,” he mumbled. “One of your subjects requests your presence.”

There was a noise in response much like a hoof being dragged out of a swamp, a slithering and liquid sound that repeated several times as Luna cleared her mouth and gave a preliminary cough. “Tis still the Day. Send them to my sister.”

“It is one of your subjects,” said Eb at the discouraged look that swept over Peanut Brittle’s face. “Arise and greet the… Moon as is your duty. Besides, your sister did shoulder your burden for a thousand years. It is time you took up some small part for your own.”

“Uhh.” Luna heaved herself up until she could see over Eb’s immobile body, but she promptly flopped down so her sharp chin rested on his ribs. “Speak, child.”

“Mamma says you raised the moon at least once already and I missed it, so I thought if I got up really, really, really early—”

“No,” said Luna, although she yawned immediately afterward.

Taking advantage of the momentary lack of Luna’s ability to interrupt, Eb quickly added, “She’s afraid you would see her fail. Since she has been without her appointed duty for so long—”

“I’m not afraid!” stated Luna firmly. She jabbed Eb in the back with one sharp hoof. “Your duty is to your liege.”

“And yours is to the populace,” countered Eb. “Large and small. Young Peanut Brittle hath gone through great lengths to ease thine and mine passage into this new world. It is a slight upon the honor of the Crown to dismiss her request without consideration for such.”

Luna remained silent for a time, with the only motion being her breath upon the fine hairs regrowing on Ebon Tide’s side. “We liked you better on the moon,” she grumbled. “Verily, young one, we owe you a debt of great magnitude, so consider this payment in a small part.”

* * *

Some mistakes were obvious. Some only became obvious after a short period of observation.

After sitting out on the sunlit Royal Balcony between Their Highnesses, the silence seemed as thick as tar, and the vast majority of that cloying miasma was settling down on Eb’s thin shoulders. Peanut Brittle was oblivious to the tension, and looked back and forth between the two alicorns like a child caught between two delicious apples.

“Is it time now?” she asked again. “Are you going to raise the Moon and lower the Sun at the same time? Do you trade occasionally? Does the Sun take more effort since it is so much brighter? Have they ever gotten stuck?”

For some reason, both alicorns gave a brief giggle. It broke the tense silence far better than anything Eb could have done and gave him a welcome opening.

“Shall I fetch a pry bar?” he asked.

“No need,” said Celestia. The Sun eased down below the horizon just as smooth as butter, but the Moon did not follow suit. He could still see the silver glow at the edge of the horizon, but it remained unrisen.

“You can do it!” whispered Peanut in a voice that could probably be heard on the other side of the palace. At least Luna took the encouragement of the child as a positive. The Moon eventually staggered up above the horizon like a drunk farmer after a harvest festival, wavered for a few moments, then stabilized in place to the quiet cheers of the small batpony. “Yes, yes, yes!” she whispered to herself and anypony in the vicinity. “So cool.”

Eb caught himself before offering to get a blanket for the child despite the relative warmth of the night air. Cool was good and no longer meant cold, and cold had changed only slightly.

“Soooo,” said Peanut once it became obviously nopony else was going to talk, “you’re not mad at each other any more, right?”

“Correct,” said Celestia, still looking away.

“Certes,” said Luna.

“They’re both liars,” said Eb without really thinking. “They have always been angry at each other to some degree every day I’ve known them, it’s just the Guards are forbidden to mention it.”

Celestia reacted as if she had been poked with a pin in her rather large hindquarters. “Ebon Tide! I have never—”

Reacting again, Eb snapped, “You always treated anypony in the Guard coming to you with bad news about your sister as if they were the one who had done something wrong, and anypony who told you everything was fine—”

“Like me,” muttered Luna.

“They were given one of your smiles and a pat on the head,” finished Eb, since he figured he was in for a copper farthing, so why not go in for a gold bit. “We tried to tell you about your sister’s growing discontent, but you avoided that kind of criticism like spiders. Everything will be fine. She’s just feeling moody. The excuses wore thin as old shoes. Wherever the two of you were together, conflict followed.”

He had not thought of Peanut Brittle before releasing his ire. The young batpony was staring at him with wide eyes, which should have shut Eb up like a clam, but he flowed right on into a hard-learned lesson for the child.

“Yes, that’s the truth, bitter and simple,” he stated plainly. “You have both a younger and older sib, so you know well there are times when your anger bubbles up to the surface and you wish the most terrible things upon them.”

“But I love my brothers,” she blurted out. “They’re giant poopy-heads sometime, but they’re mine and I’d never turn into some horrible monster to attack them, or throw any of them into the moon! Um…” Peanut seemed to shrink in upon herself between Luna and Celestia as if she was dwindling into nothing.

“Exactly.” Eb gave each of the Royal Sisters a flat glare. “Would only that the two of you had a small child to advise you against your actions so long ago. This young one is wiser far than the two of you together.”

“You shall not speak to us in this fashion,” snapped Celestia as she rose to her imposing height and glared down at him..

“Or what?” Eb pointed with one wingtip at the newly risen moon. “Shall you return me to my prison for another thousand years until I am naught but dust upon my return? Or will you condemn me to waste away in a distant house of healing like you did already? Speak or not of your sister as you wish, but her revolting actions are the reason I live. I shall never forgive her for lashing out at you or for cursing me with dark magic, but I am not her flesh and blood. She is your sister, and as such should hold such an unbreakable bond in your heart as young Peanut Brittle has with her sibs. And you!”

Eb whirled to face Princess Luna, who had cringed back into the shadows of the balcony. “Will you not take the forgiveness you are offered free of charge? Your heart’s blood and hers are one and the same, and no action can sever that bond. Throw her love into the dungheap and wallow in your misery if you wish, but I shall have no part of your foolish depravity. Come, Peanut Brittle. Let us be off to your family, for these two cowards shall be a bad influence upon your growth of character.”

“But—” started Peanut, but Eb cut her off with a sharp glance.

“I said come with me. What these two decide to do with this evening is none of our business. I will return you to your family before turning to my evening exercises. At least that will be a productive use of my time rather than throwing unwanted lessons at two insolent brats.”

“I… Okay.” Peanut Brittle took several steps in his direction before doubling back and fairly launching herself at Celestia in a way that nearly made what was left of Eb’s protective reflexes kick in. She wrapped all her hooves and both wings around the huge alicorn’s neck with a grip that made Celestia’s eyes open wide. The crushing hug lasted for a fairly short time, just enough for Eb to wonder if perhaps he should intervene but not enough for him to actually say anything foolish. Luna had less patience than himself and had just opened her mouth to speak when Peanut changed hosts, swapping necks in less time than an eyeblink.

“Urk!” managed Luna, who had a more difficult time of it since Peanut’s strangling hold was more effective on her smaller neck.

“Don’t fight,” managed the tiny batpony through her tears. “Mum and Dad fought when my brother said he wanted to be a doctor and it was terrible. They kissed and made up after but I was afraid they’d keep fighting forever and I don’t want to be afraid like that ever again. So promise.”

“Little one.” Princess Celestia ran a large hoof gently down the trembling batpony child’s back. “I could never do that again.”

“You should never have needed to,” gasped Luna as Peanut’s grip slackened. “I was a fool to let myself be taken by the darkness. Likewise, I shall never, can never allow that to happen again. Now, go. Take our disruptive guardian and allow us our time together. We shall not fight. I give you my word.”

“We may shout a bit,” admitted Celestia. “Siblings do, after all. I think it is a requirement, and to bottle such things up can cause more issues than releasing a few mere words.”

Peanut Brittle did not say anything from her tight grasp on Luna’s neck, but she did nod, and after a bit of encouragement, released her prisoner and took short hesitant steps over to Ebon Tide’s side. They departed without comment, leaving the alicorns upon the balcony as Eb picked his way down the stairs with his small shadow alongside.

* * *

“My actions were stupid beyond belief.” Feeling much like a child himself, Ebon Tide slumped and allowed his nose to touch the floor of the House Glory library. “Once my mouth started, the words just flew like Azkatanan poisoned darts.”

Master Sergeant Tide said nothing, much like he had remained silent during Eb’s long confession father-to-father instead of Warleader-to-subordinate. The big mottled brown earth pony had offered the library as a private location for their conversation, although now he looked more uncomfortable at having such a mouthy superior officer under his roof.

Finally, the big pony moved, although not to rebuke Eb as he first thought. “Sit down,” rumbled Tide and pushed the largest overstuffed chair a little further away from the wall in his direction. “You still haven't recovered as much as you think.”

Chairs in this modern age were at least similar to Eb’s expectations, but recliners were not. The back of the huge chair eased away at his pressure, leaving Eb feeling a little like a tortoise stuck on his back, and made only worse when Tide pushed a lever and some sort of hoofrest popped up in front while the chair reclined into a near-horizontal state.

“That’s better.” Tide moved over to the other chair and plopped down in it, although he did not recline. “Never thought I’d be talking to a thousand-year-old officer like he was my own child having a hissy fit. You’ve got quite a temper to you. Oh, don’t try to deny it. I married into it, after all. Then what with Princess Luna did to you…”

“She saved my life,” admitted Eb.

Tide shook his head. “You go counting saving lives and threatening lives in history and you’ll lose track pretty fast. Still, the Moon’s Children have racked up a lot of points in their favor over the years.”

“Moon’s Children?” asked Eb, shocked out of his morose musings by the unexpected name.

“Don’t spread it around.” Tide drew one large hoof across his lips in a strange modern gesture. “Particularly, don’t use it around any of the children. Don’t need to give them excuses for their uncivilized behavior when they lose their temper. In any event, if Sun or Moon were offended by your outburst, you’d know. Everypony would know.”

“Royal Everfree Announcement Voice,” said Eb with a wince. “Everypony in the vicinity takes a day or two before they regain their hearing.”

“It’s called a Royal Canterlot Voice now.” Tide pursed his lips in thought for a time. “Peanut practically worships Princess Luna. She’s going to ask for a demonstration sometime. Make sure to discourage her.”

“You would fain allow me to maintain contact with your child, even though I—”

Tide cut Eb off sharply. “That dressing-down was not only well-needed, but should give Peanut pause when she starts thinking Luna is perfect. Heavens knows the two alicorns we already have were just full of little flaws. Sometimes, it is difficult to draw their attention to a negative behavior. Sometimes, a support beam to the face is probably not enough,” he added under his breath.

“I… cannot disagree,” admitted Eb.

“Having Peanut around you two has been quite the learning experience all around,” said Tide. “It is good that Her Highness learn about the modern world from a simpler perspective. I heard about the can of mangos, of course. Peanut can’t stop talking about that can. There’s something else that I think she should learn a little less about, though.”

It was a puzzling statement, although Eb tried his best to think about what particular part of Princess Luna’s actions was troubling the diligent father. There were so many to pick from.

“I avoided using profanity when addressing Their Highnesses,” said Eb slowly, because it was the obvious place to start and a career in the Guard had given him considerable vocabulary in that regard.

“Not quite. Rumor says Princess Luna spent her whole day in your apartment. No, it didn’t come from Shining Armor,” he added quickly as Eb began to splutter denial. “He doesn’t start rumors; he squashes them flat. Good officer, but a tad too honest for politics. Has this odd idea that the Royal Guard should be protecting the Crown instead of playing games with politicians.”

“Vermin,” grumbled Eb.

“Necessary,” said Tide immediately. “Imagine how difficult it would be for one alicorn to run this whole anthill by herself. Politicians are elected so the common pony has a voice in how they are governed. Princess Celestia cannot speak to each of her subjects on every matter, but she can ensure they have the power to select a representative to speak on their behalf.” The big earth pony shrugged. “Some of them sing off-key, I’ll admit, but she listens to them.”

“Unless there are none who wish to tell her what she does not wish to hear,” grumbled Eb.

“There is that.” Tide tapped one hoof against his chair for a few moments. “Perhaps you will stir up the politicians as much as Shining Armor is bringing some useful Sun to the shadows of our organization. Have you considered stepping into a seat at Parliament?”

Eb grunted. “Would we be permitted to slay those who besmirch our honor?”

“Well.” Tide appeared to be considering his words as well as resisting laughter. “Slay them with words, yes.”

“Then, no. We are already far too abusive with our liege.”

“Hm…” Obviously what Tide was considering involved a short trip, because he left the library with a brisk stride and returned without explanation, but what he retrieved explained a lot.

“The reason why Flutter and I argued over our son Peptide’s decision to go into medicine,” he said while passing over a cold glass bottle. Tide removed the metal cap on his own bottle with one swift twist, then appeared to consider the disparity in experience before swapping bottles with Eb so he would not have to struggle with the modern device. The bottle was certainly not orange pop, but a dark beer with an odd taste due to being chilled. Still, it was impressive, a rich flavor that lingered on the tongue and brought out more pleasure than anything of his own era. There were not even any chunks which required chewing.

“Your son Peptide’s Mark?” asked Eb when he had dealt with about half of the bottle.

“Something to do with microorganisms and their interrelationships.” Tide tilted his bottle up and drained it to the bottom, then picked another up from the basket between their chairs. “Apparently, it also relates to contagious diseases and infections. The medical school in Manehattan was ecstatic. His mother, somewhat less so.”

“Contagion is no small matter. To lose a brewer of such skill is a tragedy—” Eb finished off his beer “—but if it saves lives from the Alpaccan trots or the pox, the loss should be easily balanced.”

“The trots were eliminated well over a century ago,” said Tide. “Every child gets an immunization for pox now, as well as a dozen other diseases which cut bloody swaths through all races in your time. Did you get your shots yet?”

“Nay,” admitted Eb reluctantly. “Nor has Her Highness.”

“Schedule them with the military physicians as soon as you can,” said Tide. “You’ll have at least a modicum of privacy from the prying eyes of the palace.”

“If either of Their Highnesses will speak to me ever gain,” said Eb.

Tide made an amused snorting sound and wiped some beer off his nose. “Do you honestly think either of our headstrong charges will even admit you said anything to them? The only thing harder than diamonds is an alicorn’s skull.”

Eb hesitated while wrestling with another bottle of beer. “The more things change—”

“The more they stay the same,” said Tide, who smiled when Eb emerged victorious in his battle with the twist-off bottlecap. “To Sun and Moon, and the ladies who lift them,” he declared with a wave of his bottle.

“To always another tomorrow, no matter the troubles of today,” said Eb with a wave of his own bottle. “Sergeant Tide, if only you were at my side before I made the foolish decision that flung me into this strange world, but since you could not be then, I am glad you are now.”

“You’re not sweet-talking me into being present when you and Princess Luna get your shots,” said Tide. “Each of my children raised enough fuss that I have used up my store of patience for the century.”

“Meh.” Eb took another drink of beer. “Companionship would be welcome. I hesitate to make this request, Master Sergeant, since my behavior was so aberrant before—”

“But you want Peanut to go with you two for your shots,” completed Tide. “I see no reason to reject your request, Warleader. Sometimes the courage of the young can overcome the fears of the old. I’ll send Peptide to go with her to the military physician's office first thing tomorrow evening. You two old ponies should be able to stand a few needles better than a couple of foals.”

He was so wrong.

18. Shot and Chaser

The Last Nightguard
Shot and Chaser

“All guardsmembers are expected to remain current with all immunizations and booster shots as per Schedule D, subsection 14.”
—Handbook of the Royal Guard, Volume One

“Thou shalt taste my wrath!”

Things at the doctor’s office this evening had been going so well, despite Ebon Tide’s discomfort. Until now.

“Traitor! Abandoning thy princess in our hour of need!”

Of course Eb had not anticipated ‘shots’ involving actual steel needles jammed into one's posterior. Out of a misguided attempt at privacy, the painfully serious doctor had taken Eb first into another room for his series of inoculations, all lined up in rows of tiny glass bottles with corresponding steel needles.

“Fiends! There will be blood! Blood, I tell you!”

It had been a success he could have lived without. Eb’s entire flank was one giant painful ache that throbbed with every heartbeat. He could not stand without his leg stiffening up, and there was no place in the doctor’s office for him to lie down with his punctured plot facing up.

“Vengeance will be mine!”

Eb slowly shook his head back and forth, then leaned up against Princess Luna in the waiting room. “I think Peanut Brittle is trying to emulate your behavior,” he whispered.

Luna did not move, and Eb could not tell if she was repressing fury at being mocked by a foal in the other room or merely locking her jaw to keep from laughing. After a few more incoherent screeches and vile vituperations from the doctor’s office, she released enough of her restraint to admit, “Verily, for such a small child, she has astounding lung capacity. Do you think—”

“No,” said Eb as quick as he could. “She doesn’t need a demonstration of the Royal Everfree Announcement Voice. None of us do, so please restrain yourself when it comes time for your shots.” Eb considered the howling screech flooding the waiting room and added, “Master Sergeant Tide has an astounding streak of pragmatism, scheduling his child’s vaccination ‘boosters’ at the same time as your shots. I shall have to be alert to keep ahead of the Guards of this era.”

The shouting from the other room eventually tapered off, mostly because when Peanut Brittle came limping back into the waiting room, she had the stub of a ‘lollipop’ sticking out of her mouth. Eb had placed his into a uniform jacket pocket for later examination because he was uncomfortable enough without abusing his mouth with pure sugar and strange artificial flavors.

“He’s going to suffer,” muttered Peanut from around the candy. “I’ll get him back if it’s the last thing I do.”

“That is no way to speak of your chirurgeon—” started Luna only to be cut off by a sharp hiss.

“Not him!” protested Peanut. “My brother held me down while the doctor played pincushion with my patootie!”

Luna shook her head. “Vengeance against thy sibling is a poor path to take, young one. We would think you learned from our example.”

“I wasn’t going to send him to the moon! Just… eat all of his candied crickets on Hearths Warming or something.” Peanut settled down between Luna and Eb, wincing when her rump touched up against either of their sides. “Liar,” she added. “Foul deceit and odious somethings. He said I only needed one shot, and they just kept jabbing me, over and over.”

“We are quite positive you were only ‘jabbed’ as you say, the minimum number of times they needed in order to ensure your good health,” said Luna just as smooth as if she had been drinking butter. “Now if you will excuse us, your brother is at the office doorway, looking constipated.”

“He’s just afraid of you,” muttered Peanut, still settled in her silent youthful fury. “Mama told him a dozen times to be careful with your shots and not just jab you in the butt like they did me.” The young batpony promptly perked up. “Are you going to yell a lot?”

“No,” said Luna in her most discouraging tone of voice.

* * *

The walk back to House Glory was accomplished at a much slower pace in the darkness than normal, ostensibly for Eb’s age and relative poor health, but more because all three of them were stiff and sore from their vaccination regime. Peanut monopolized the conversation, mostly talking about her friends from school and their embarrassing reactions to shots or skinned knees or feather flu, which still did not have a fully effective vaccination but one that only made it a minor inconvenience. Admittedly, it was far better than having an affected Guard plummet out of the sky in a cloud of shed feathers, but the shot had been in Eb and Peanut’s collection despite a certain lack of the affected primaries.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come inside and have some cookies, Miss Princess?” Peanut stumbled on the bottom step of their apartment stairs and was caught by Private Pansy, who had been rather nervously following the limping procession ever since they left the doctor’s office. The big batpony had also been very quiet during the trip, much like a huge grey wall of darkness making an exaggerated shadow of the three of them against anything they passed.

“Be careful,” rumbled Pansy.

The admonition bounced off Peanut Brittle as Eb feared all cautions would. “I’m just fine,” she said with a wince and some rearranging to put her sore rear end on a higher step. “Everypony enjoyed your visit last time, so I thought—”

“Her Highness is not quite physically prepared to visit this evening,” said Eb just as smoothly as he could. “We both received quite a number of ‘punctures’ as you said, and only want to rest for a few hours. Besides, you’re not moving too well either.”

“An icepack’d help,” volunteered Pansy. “If the two of you want to head back, I’ll get the young lady situated with her family for proper care and I’ll catch up.”

“It’s not like we’re going to out-run you,” mused Eb. “And it would be a poor state of affairs indeed if a Princess and her Warleader were attacked inside the capital city in the few minutes it should take. Proceed, Private.”

While they walked in the general direction of the palace, there was something about Luna that was setting Eb’s nerves on edge, much like smelling smoke in a cargo hold full of siege petards. He was having difficulty placing the exact reason for his discomfort, or at least until he could see the way her cheek twitched with every movement of her hind leg.

“You displayed remarkable fortitude when enduring your inoculations,” said Eb carefully like probing a fizzing bomb. “Not that Peanut Brittle left much room on the other end of that reaction, that is. We did not hear a single word during your ordeal.”

“We are used to pain. We live that Equestria can survive,” said Luna in a flat level tone. “When Discord warped reality itself and twisted our bodies into incomprehensible shapes, we never wavered in our determination to see him banished. That was as close as I’ve ever been to my sister,” she added what looked to be an unintentional afterthought, most probably caused by the pain.

“At least she’s up to date on her shots and boosters,” groused Eb, then came to a halt as Luna stopped in the middle of the street.

“Is she? I mean…” A tiny bit of the frivolous princess that Eb had gotten to know over the years peeked out from concealment as Luna’s ears twitched, then she resumed her stride as if nothing had happened. “We are used to pain,” she said again.

“That is one good point to having your infernal magic coursing through my veins,” admitted Eb grudgingly. “Before, I was in such pain that the physicians had drugged me into incoherence. My mind was not my own again, much like when Nightmare Moon’s penumbra overlapped mine own. I’m not even certain she noticed me.”

“We… I did not,” said Luna. “My sister did not either, or she would not have been so shocked at your return. She… confided in me when we spoke.”

“So making an ass out of myself last night was worth it?” asked Eb.

“Naught happened last night in your regard that is worth discussion,” said Luna curtly, maintaining a much more regular pace now that she had something to distract her, as Eb had intended. “Be that as it may, we spoke at length for the first time in… a very long time. Reviewed some records from that era. Talked about this very city, and why it had to be moved from the Everfree. We still think tales of that place are blown over, but that is beside the point. I thought she would have been happy to see me gone. Far from that. My absence…” Luna’s steps slowed. “She was destroyed for many decades, reduced to the mental state of a terrified child and unable to make even the smallest decision on her own. The nation of Equestria came forth despite, not because of her.”

“I can’t believe that,” said Eb bluntly. “The two of you—”

“Defeated every foe, struck down our enemies, flew into battle at the head of our legions, yes.” Luna put her head down as she walked, not seeming to care if she was headed toward the palace or just treading some random street as long as she was moving. “Without us, without her, our ponies and their new allies were forced to stand up for themselves. They created the parliament which drafts our laws, the diplomatic treaties which bind together our ancient enemies and turned them into allies. They lifted forth every pony from the Everfree to this city in the mountain within a few decades where I could not imagine a feat this impressive in less than a century.”

Ebon Tide could not have been more stunned than if somepony had kicked a chair out from under him. “But the Royal Sisters—”

“Crushed our subjects’ motivation, protected them like children when we should have encouraged them to go forth and do great things on their own. In some small way, my imprisonment was a great blessing to all.”

Ebon Tide wanted to say something sarcastic about everlasting night being somewhat of an influence in that regard, but he was unable to speak. His entire life had been spent in service to the Crown, doing the exact things that Princess Luna was claiming to have inflicted ill upon the growing nation. It took all the concentration he was able to muster while following Her Highness, because he really wanted to just sit down in the middle of the street and scream. Or maybe cry. He didn’t even react when Pansy dropped out of the dark sky and took his position at their side.

Thankfully, his subordinate seemed to understand the surface of the situation without asking any questions. Pansy merely ghosted along beside them both like some oversized shadow, matching their strides as they approached the palace. In desperate search for something to distract his mind from the terrible wrongness of his discovery, Eb concentrated instead on his aide. It let him get a grip on at least one problem within his control, which he really needed at the moment.

“Private Pansy, when will flying exercises be added to my training? I know I shall have to unlearn a life worth of practice, because my balance is nowhere near what it was when I had feathers, and that must be a priority before I can return to the pells.”

“I’ll see to it, sir.”

“Also, take us to some sort of room in the palace where we can speak privately. With damping spells, most certainly,” continued Eb in an effort to keep from thinking about Luna’s terrifying revelation. “The most secure facility you can access.”

“Certainly, sir.” This time, Pansy did not sound nearly as confident, which was only fair because Eb was doubting himself fairly intensely also. They followed him regardless, through the dark corridors and past other Guards at other doors until they came to an ornate portal, a vast expanse of bronze and steel which must have taken a dozen ponies a year to carve and decorate. He reached out with one hoof and swung the door open, a slow motion that betrayed some sort of hidden counterweight due to the immense thickness of the portal.

“The Concordian,” said Pansy. “It dates back to the founding of Canterlot and the Treaty of Menagerie. It has been added to over the years by every race who has joined Equestria as an ally.” Pansy’s back straightened slightly and he added, “It was originally designed by a batpony.”

“And it is currently unused?” asked Eb, who resisted an urge to peer inside since that was the job of a subordinate, after all. It took Pansy several minutes to check out the room, flitting from point to point and trying all the other doors before returning with a silent nod.

“Very well. Princess?” It was Eb’s turn to nod and gesture within. “We shall give you fifteen minutes. Will that be adequate?”

“Make it twenty,” said Luna, who strode forward and let the doors close behind her with a most solid thud and clunk from a hidden locking mechanism.

Rather than fret in front of Pansy while waiting, Eb seized the initiative for a problem which faced both himself and his royal charge. “Private, you are to immediately go forth and gather the current rules and regulations of the Royal Guard for my examination this eve. Preferably the ones given to the initiates—”

“Cadets,” corrected Pansy quietly, but giving a twitch as the walls of the palace shook with a muffled obscenity that even Eb found to be quite obsolete. An entire series of profanity followed it, muffled into incoherence by the spells in the Concordian room but still barely audible to the two of them.

“Cadets,” said Eb with a nod, “because those will be the most annotated with reasons and explanations of their details. In addition, a history of the Royal Guard from its formation to the present, both in summarized form and reasonable detail,” he added, thinking of just how thick a thousand years worth of self-promotion would be with a mechanical printing device able to duplicate the memoirs of each and every leader in the Guard. “No more than five books to start, perhaps more later. Also, a history of the creation of Canterlot, the Treaty of Menagerie, the formation of this parliament organization, and as much as you can find on the first decade or two after Princess Celestia banished Nightmare Moon.”

Looking a little overwhelmed, Pansy stopped eyeing the vibrating and rattling door of the Concordium and nodded. “Will that be all, sir?”

“Deliver them to my quarters as quickly as you can,” said Eb as the ground shook to the stomping of irate alicorn hooves, not quite as damped as Luna’s vocal complaints. “With several ice packs. We plan on resting for the rest of the eve, and this will give us something to do.”

“And by we…?” Pansy really did not look comfortable at the concept of his superior and his liege sharing a bed, which Eb understood far too well. Giving the nervous batpony a dry look, Eb ever so slowly shook his head.

“Do you honestly expect anything untoward to occur between Her Highness and myself, with my current condition and after both of us have undergone that series of inoculations?”

Pansy looked as if he were going to contest Eb’s conclusions, but a startled expression overcame him and he managed a brief snort of amusement instead. “Of course not, sir. You’re not Eclipse, after all. I’ll have those books waiting for you…”

“Very good, Pansy,” said Eb. “Once Her Highness has released her frustration, I will escort her to wherever she wishes to spend the evening recovering. I suspect that will be my room,” he admitted. “I scarce can think of a safer place for her, and this will allow the workers in her bedchambers to complete their tasks unhindered by her presence. Go.”

He went.

* * *

It was quite enlightening what one could become accustomed to over a period of time when one started with the concept of death by neglect, progressed to having an immense amount of dark magic pressed upon oneself, and ending at the moment by having Her Most Serene Highness jostling for space in the bed beside him.

“Pudding pop?” The proffered treat floated out in front of Ebon Tide’s nose and bobbed in Luna’s blue aura, making the dark chocolate ice look vaguely leprous.

“In bed?” Eb spurned the offer and returned to his examination of the Guard handbooks. In his day, books were so precious that the Guards responsible for their keeping went through a ritual cleansing and purification before they took their station, and the Reader who lectured the incoming Guards had his own regalia used only for that purpose. The advent of mechanical printing had expanded the traditional one volume of Guard rules to four, and provided a copy for each Guard with their enlistment. Copies could be likewise purchased for a trivial sum at a substantial store in the Guard library, along with an astonishing number of books on pertinent subjects.

It was difficult to resist plunging into the collection of written words, to revel in the accomplishments and glories of his peers through history, but there was a deeper threat that he was driven to investigate. Despite Luna’s claims, Eb could not believe that all he was experiencing, the mechanical progress and the unity of races, could have happened despite Celestia’s collapse. The books detailing that part of history were no help, somewhat vague on describing what happened, but totally short of any reason why the other races contributed their skills and assistance in such great abundance to Equestria other than the leadership of the princess (singular) and her love for her country.

Reading the treaties and laws set forth at the time were likewise not helping. Close personal relationships with both princesses had left Eb a relative expert in the way each of the alicorns turned a phrase or worked their way through written documents, but there was a ‘bump’ in the historical record. Before Luna’s banishment, a great amount of records were missing, most likely destroyed in order to conceal her existence. After Nightmare Moon had been banished and the world was living with only one alicorn, the words of history changed somehow. They became more direct, shorter and to the point, laid out in the sensible fashion that Eb had learned through writing many reports on his path upward in the Guard.

There was a word he refused to speak as long as Luna was anywhere nearby, and a concept that shook him to his core yet again. The Guard protected the Princesses, but what would they do if there was only one remaining: the alicorn who raised Sun and Moon so that the world would survive…

“Thou art disturbed,” said Luna, who had given up on her reading for the moment, floated the few tattered remains of their lunch tray to one side, and was absently fluffing her pillow up. “Surely the thought of my sister grieving unto collapse doth not concern you as much as the fact that she had no recollection of your presence, and did not remember until your pale hairless hide was dumped upon her spotless lawn.”

“Nay, I was not concerned about mine own self,” said Eb. “We are small things in the world, and are used to being underhoof. We serve so you may rule, after all. I merely fear that books are not the answer to our abject lack of knowledge in this modern age. Such a great quantity must be printed each year that we could not read them fast enough to catch up, were we both immortal alicorns. In addition, many of these books are certain to contain lies and omissions. For example, there is nary a reference to that blasted can opener which befuddled us for far too long.”

“As a ruler, I must be informed, not ignorant. So what do you propose we do?” Luna nuzzled her pillow and placed her head down upon it, making Eb feel even less at ease with his additional role of Royal Bedroom Advisor.

“You must continue your discussions with Princess Celestia at morn and night,” said Eb with the certainty that he could almost see the words bouncing off her head. “In addition, it would be wise for us to venture into the city and explore as citizens, not standing on our rank. Perhaps alternating young Peanut Brittle and the energetic Princess Mi Amore as a guide. That would allow us to learn of the simpler things first, and work our way up to the greater.”

With an affirmative grunt, Luna remained relatively quiet, but Eb could still see the lines of tense muscles under her smooth coat. “And what of your kind? Where will we find a reliable source of information on your survival and history?”

“Your previous suggestion has merit. Peanut’s friend, Pine Apple Squares, I believe is his name. He appears to be an industrious young colt, so setting him upon this task will give us a different perspective than we will certainly receive from official sources.”

“A unicorn,” murmured Luna, although Eb could see the muscles on her sides begin to relax slightly. “They always were the more studious of our ponies. I scarce think we could have ruled Equestria without the assistance of our unicorn Factotums. And children are not poisoned by the world yet. They have a much more pure and innocent view of events. We approve of your suggestion. Make it so.”

“It will be as you wish,” responded Eb almost automatically. “A certain degree of physical exercise would also be prudent to share. Although I could not keep up with your pace even in my prime, Pansy can supervise your exertions while still keeping an eye on me. There is a large field at the Academy with a track about the outside, where I plan on spending the early evenings at a slow trot, working my way up to a gallop. Once you have accomplished your evening tasks and finished speaking with your sister, you could join me there and see about exercising some of that suet off your tail so you do not fall prey to the same fate as—”

There was a distinct and quite false snore that overrode Eb’s voice and repeated whenever he tried to continue. It roiled the rage in his belly like indigestion, or perhaps it was indigestion from the modern food which he had tried that evening. ‘Tacos’ had seemed safe, and the addition of something called ‘picante’ made them practically irresistible, or at least to his new body. Luna had browsed the luncheon selection with relative delicacy, picking out one or another item and eating far less than she should.

Despite his jab, Princess Luna was looking underfed. When they took their suggested trips out into the city with Princess Mi Amore, it would only be fair to visit as many bars and taverns as possible so the Princess of the Night could be properly plumped up again. It was probably another reason why Luna was staying close to him, because his protruding ribs and recovering coat made her own physical failures less obvious.

She looked so fragile up close, curled around her pillow and breathing regularly to feign sleep. One of the most powerful creatures in the world, restrained by her own flaws until she could no longer…

As he watched over a long period of time, the regularity of feigned sleep turned ever so slowly into reality, the rise and fall of her great chest threaded through with tiny twitches of dreams. He felt a pang of guilt over this kind of intrusion into her life, but she had practically forced it upon him, and the job of a Guard was to protect the princesses after all.

He was just protecting her very closely, from…

That was a question that eluded him through the afternoon, and for days to come.

19. Fossil Record

The Last Nightguard
Fossil Record

“All reports must adhere to the Reference Manual for Crown Communications, Revision 127b. Descriptions of events are to be identified by time and place in a clear and succinct fashion, and supported by witness statements and documented logs if possible.”
—Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume One

“It is a most clever device indeed, to hear somepony speak from long ago without magic.” Luna peered at the ‘record’ floating in her magic, squinting closely. “Although they sound in great pain. Are tortured souls perhaps trapped within this substance?”

“Mama says today’s music…” Peanut Brittle cringed and returned to looking through the cheerful yellow discs of the music store’s children’s section. “It’s not a nice word,” she added.

Ebon Tide settled down with a set of ‘earphones’ and one of the sample records on the spinning device. Anypony who had been in the general vicinity of water when what was now called the ‘Royal Canterlot Voice’ was used knew the ripples that formed from loud words, but capturing those ripples in solid form to be repeated at will was an astonishing concept. Worse, the innovation was fading as new forms of sound repetition were being developed, a cascade of technology that he feared at times would sweep the two of them into the dustbin.

There were acceptable bits of music to be found here, and some which indeed sounded like some poor yak had his tail rather brutally nailed to a door somewhere. This store was only one of many which they had visited today, with the next being some sort of confectuary where they sold hundreds of ice cream flavors, an abundance which boggled his mind.

Princess Luna had been relatively discreet with her purchases so far, mostly because the Royal Purse could easily cover buying this store on a whim, and she had been fairly careful with her whims since she had been freed from Nightmare Moon. A quiet servant had been added to their group by Pansy, who lurked by the shop doors instead of following them inside. Pansy had insisted on somepony to carry since his job was too important to be burdened by parcels and Eb had agreed. He suspected the mild-mannered earth pony was another Guard, but without armor to advertise his role, Eb was willing to pretend the burly pony’s civilian status.

By coincidence, Luna’s shopping had filled the not-Guard’s saddlebags by the time they reached ‘Five Hundred Flavours’ so she sent him back to the palace to unload. That left Luna and Eb unsupervised when Peanut Brittle introduced Pine Apple Squares, who looked nervous with his role as an intelligence agent (size small). His eyes were wide beneath the shock of golden mane that threatened to protrude over his spectacles, and his bowl of ice cream was practically untouched.

“You want me to do what?” Pine Apple glanced from side to side as if there was some sort of trap involved, which showed good instincts for an assignment of this sensitivity. Perhaps someday he would become a spy, although it was probably practical to wait until his facial blemishes cleared up and he was old enough to stay out at night without his parents’ permission.

“It is a simple task,” said Luna in a very unusual and straightforward manner. “We wish to know more of our… creations.”

“To be fair, Your Highness,” said Eb quietly, “they were less created and more changed by your magic into what and who they are now.

“It is a delicate subject,” admitted Luna with a sharp glance at Eb. “As you can plainly see.”

“I can see that,” said the child rather quickly. “I mean I know. I’m from House Honor, after all. Kindof an odd duck in a family full of of dark swans. My dad says I spend so much time indoors studying after dark that my outside wings just didn’t come in, but he’s goofy that way. He’s an accountant,” added Pine Apple as if that would explain everything.

Eb could tell that Princess Luna was quickly reaching the end of her patience with the child, and probably the Warmaster she had at her side also, so he stepped into the conversation with a more fatherly tone to his voice that he had not used in a long while.

“Frankly, I’m curious about my history also,” he said while putting one thinly furred foreleg on the table. “I’m starting this from the very beginning. You were born into a nocturnal family, at least. My introduction to the whole structure of it was rather abrupt and unplanned.”

“How did you—” started Pine Apple, which Eb cut off with a short shake of his head and the welcome rustle of thin regrowing hairs around his ears. It was a good place to start, because every successful negotiation needed an exchange.

“You find out the history of my new kind, the real history right after Luna’s banishment, and I’ll tell you how I became what I am now.”

The colt’s glittering green eyes lit up like Eb had dangled a bit of sugar beet in front of his nose. “Do you think I could… I mean I love being a unicorn, but my family and stuff…”

“No,” said Eb and Luna at the same time. Eb gave her a quelling look since he was making good progress, but it did not stop Her Highness even for a moment.

“Appreciate what you have, young one. Do not strive for the false hope of acceptance in becoming what you are not, but revel in the true acceptance which your parents and House bestow upon you without measure. I know that of which I speak. This path shall not become your path, and you will be the better for it.”

* * *

A museum was a very quiet place late at night, worthy of a long walk with no surprises. Eb appreciated the change of pace since he had been walking most of the night, and although he was building his stamina far faster than any natural process, Princess Luna was constantly moving with a long stride in public. He would have flown to keep up at times, but whenever Eb spread his wings, imbalance followed, and inevitably gravity would take its toll. Then there was her way of coming to an abrupt stop, which almost left Eb’s nose ramming into Her Highness’ Royal Rump several times when she was distracted by one exhibit or another.

“We could always call for the curator,” said Eb quietly.

“Why?” Luna gave the informational sign in front of the current exhibit her full attention. “This, at least, we are familiar with. The Abyssinian rulership of our era served cheese on them.” She turned away from the sign and resumed her route to a different glass-enclosed artifact. “It was not some sort of gameboard,” she muttered under her breath.

“Truth.” Eb glanced back at the hesitant elderly earth pony staying just barely within sight in case he was called upon to clarify one of his artifacts and their purpose. He was far enough away and Her Highness had sensitive enough hearing that their low conversation was most probably private, or as much as it could be. “We are your gamepieces and the world your board,” he added. “It is good that you discouraged young Pine Apple from attempting to become one of my kind. One is far too many.”

A ripple of tension traveled up Luna’s slender flanks and slowed her pace until she stopped at a set of silver plaques with various runic inscriptions. “Were I able to use one of Starswirl’s spells to travel back in time and prevent my—”

“I’d be dead now.” Deep inside, he wanted to place a reassuring hoof on the trembling alicorn’s shoulder, but the churning fury of dark magic in his belly held him back. “A thousand thousand times I would strike thee for my agony and still have blows to spare. And yet, a single blow would both break my vow to protect the Crown and pay you back ill for saving my life.”

“You know what I feel for my sister, then.” Luna barely moved a muscle while continuing. “I cannot help but hate her for what she did, and love her for saving our world.”

“I bear no affection to you,” said Eb plainly, although it did not sound as sincere as he wanted.

Luna continued as if he had not spoken at all. “It has always been so despite our attempts to mask it. Even when we fought Sombra, there was disharmony in our actions, made even worse when Starswirl and his band of heroes vanished without a trace. They anchored our disharmony, gave us a way to release the pressure of our responsibilities. I had a particular favor towards Rockhoof, to be honest. He could spin a tale for hours on end until you lost track of time.”

“Then he was gone,” said Eb, “along with the rest of the Pillars of Equestria. I rather liked Flash Magnus, as long as we’re confessing. I could not determine if I wanted him to be my son or my superior officer. A flying puppy, but with teeth where it counted. The foal’s book I saw in the House Glory library portrayed all of them very simplistically, but they captured his foolish smile with great accuracy.”

That brought a smile to her face as he had intended.

* * *

It was a rare thing to see Luna smile over the next few weeks. Warleader Ebon Tide threw himself into an exercise program that would have killed him in his prime, but the churning of dark magic in his gut drove him to extraordinary feats of strength, or at least compared to his growing physical body. Peanut Brittle decided that his running needed to have some company so she ran with him in the early evening, along the path that wound its way around the Academy and the low hills. It was a bit odd for a location high on the mountain, but nestled into the spot with great care.

Peanut explained how the Academy was established by the first Royal Guards, and that Pine had written ten whole pages on its early history. It was almost as informational to listen to the little batpony talk about her unicorn friend than reading the report which he was working on. Luna visited at times, making her own way around the track at a pace that neither of them could match, even leaving Pansy looking flustered and foam-covered after her exercise because he had the mistaken idea that she needed an escort.

“She’s one of a kind,” admitted Eb to his exhausted aide. Peanut Brittle had gone home for lessons as the hour approached middle-night, leaving Warmaster and assistant alone on their corner of the pells for the moment, so a little relaxation of their relationship was warranted. “In our time, none could best her in the pells, not even her sister.”

“Princess Celestia can fight?” gasped Pansy. “I’ve never even seen her use anything more dangerous than a fork.”

“And that weapon in her spell-grip is mighty indeed,” said Eb with memories of several post-battle alicorn meal binges floating around his mind. “Food is fuel for the mind and body. I’ve eaten like never before over the last few weeks, and yet I am but a novice in her field of combat. Even if I should regain my original form—” Ebon Tide flexed a foreleg, feeling the welcome sensation of muscles rolling beneath his thin but full grey coat “—there is little chance of me besting her in combat or consumption.”

“Funny you should mention that.” The voice that came out of the darkness was stentorian and intensely male, as well as the coal-black minotaur who followed it out into a patch of moonlight. One massive fist slapped into an opposing palm and the minotaur bowed while Eb was still standing in shocked immobility. “Warmaster Ebon Tide, I am First Fist of the Minos diplomatic delegation, Tar. I have been given to understand that you desire training in modern forms of combat. Minos would be proud to provide our part, if you will have me.”

“Us,” came another voice from higher up. Backwinging to a gentle hover, then dropping into place beside the big minotaur was a slightly bigger dragon who topped his height by at least a head. She was deeply magenta in coloration with wide golden eyes under a set of short curved horns, and a look of nervousness that did not belong on a female dragon of that size. The dragoness swept into a brief bow, glancing in both directions, then cleared her throat. “I am Crimson, grandniece of Dragonlord Torch, sent in his name to grant welcome to the Warmaster of Equestria, superior to the legendary Flash Magnus. As it was foretold, I have been given by Dragonlord Torch to Equestria so that the noble race of dragons might offer what assistance is needed.”

“Foretold,” echoed Eb, feeling a little distant.

“Um… yes,” said the dragoness, looking even more nervous. “Just forget that last part. Uncle Torch told me not to say anything about it. Look, can I do my introduction again? I’ve never been good at this diplomaticing.”

“That’s why your great-uncle sent you here,” said Tar, slapping the dragon on a shoulder. “From what I hear, Ebon Tide is not much for diplomacy either, so you’ll fit right in.”

“Uncle Torch said they met once,” said the dragoness rapidly. “With Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, so he was paying them a lot more attention, but… he said there weren’t any pegasi with proper wings back then.” Crimson flexed her wings once, sending a gust of warm air across the practice field and bringing back memories from Eb in one long flood.

“Torch,” Eb managed. “Big dragon, horns around the back of his head and a nasty tail swipe. I remember him. Sort of a pale blue, more aquamarine, right?”

The wide eyes of the dragon opened even further. “You really did know Uncle Torch. Gosh. I didn’t think anything was as old as him.”

“The Princesses are eternal,” said Ebon Tide automatically. “They existed long before us and shall endure long after we are dust.” He shook his head at the memory of soaring high above the battlefield with his legions spread out below and the golden flash of alicorn magic driving back dragons by the score. “They sent you?”

“No, our homelands sent us,” said Tar, giving the dragoness a sideways look. “I thought Chief Thesus was the only leader to be all cryptic about my assignment.”

“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” said Crimson out of the corner of her mouth.

The sound of wings above caused all four of them to look up at a passing griffon who seemed to be searching for something. “Hey, dweebs!” she called down. “Where’s the loser I’m supposed to meet out here in the blinking dark?”

“Somehow, I was expecting that,” muttered Eb under his breath. He took a deep lungful of air and tried his best to emulate the Royal Everfree Announcement Voice in what little Griffonent he knew. “”

“That doesn’t sound very diplomaticing,” whispered Crimson to the minotaur.

“Sheesh! No need to get your tail in a knot.” The hefty griffon landed with a thud and looked around at her counterparts, but Eb spoke first.

“Let me guess. The diplomat for your delegation in Canterlot told you to come here and help train the Equestrian Warmaster, but didn’t tell you why?”

“Yeah.” The griffon tilted her head to give Eb a closer inspection. “You’re the dweeb? Awfully scrawny for a goldskin.”

“I was imprisoned in the moon for the last thousand years,” said Eb levely. “That sort of thing can take a lot out of you, but I’m recovering well.”

The griffon let out an amused squawk. “Oh, like if. I heard about that. Some half-dead geezer came spilling out of Nightmare Moon’s cage, all skin and bones…” Her voice trailed off as she caught a glimpse of the dragoness and the minotaur, both quietly nodding. “You’re kidding, right?”

One sharp claw swung in Eb’s direction and dusty reflexes from his training kicked in. He swept up one foreleg to block the blow, swinging up and around to plant both hind hooves in the hen’s face. His renewed strength and the fury caged in his belly fought to be released, but he moderated his blow to a fair training strike. That was probably a good thing because the griffon blocked his strike upward and tried to sweep his hooves, leaving Eb hopping once then rolling away to recover.

“Wow.” The griffon had not followed up her counter with a strike, which Eb was quite grateful for since he was panting for breath and was wide open. “I haven’t seen a move like that in years.”

“Thanks,” gasped Eb.

“In an exhibition by a historical reenactment troupe,” continued the griffon. “If you’re the real thing, you’ve got a lot to learn. I suppose that’s why Grandpa Gruff sent me here, because if you’re going to fight your way out of a hatchling crib, you’ve got to do better than that.”

“I’ve been sick,” said Eb, momentarily set back.

“Hello, Sick. I’m Gretta.” The griffon snickered at her own joke, but straightened up in a moment. “Seriously, I’m Gretta, and for some reason, Grandpa Gruff sent me here with a whole bunch of threats and a few promises. Like he promised me bits, but I haven’t seen any yet. How much does this pay?”

“There’s pay involved?” asked Crimson with a sudden draconic intake of breath. “Really?”

* * *

Warmaster Ebon Tide had never dealt with more complex finances than his own household’s expenses. The idea that he was owed an amount of money that dwarfed the mountain’s size had thrown him for a serious loop, and turning it down had been the only reasonable course of action. On his own, he could have never afforded to hire a diverse set of trainers like the four mismatched creatures who had found him.

He was still suspicious of the timing, but was saving that for later.

Thankfully, Princess Luna had stepped in with funding. His tutors had arranged a schedule in conjunction with the Guard’s training and his evenings filled to the top and then some.

Dawn no longer drove Ebon Tide to seek refuge between his sheets, or at least the sheets on his side of the immense bed. His apartment in the officers quarters became cold and unused while Princess Luna’s remodeled bedroom became his home. As much as he tried to ignore the ebb and surge of dark magic in his gut, he could only divert the burning power into other activities such as his intense training, escorting Her Highness in their exploration of the modern era, and exhaustive research into the missing time around Princess Celestia’s secret incapacitation. Even Peanut Brittle’s visits became fewer, and Eb could have lost himself in the routine of getting stronger, bigger, and healthier, if not for one very small pointed pony.

He was just jogging back to the palace in the early morning, feeling singed and scratched from his latest sparring practice with Crimson but filled with a fizzing energy of Luna’s dark magic being held at bay. One unwelcome side-effect of that magic was growth, and he had left his armor behind for minor adjustments to keep up with his development, leaving him dressed in only a light saddlebag and uniform jacket to face the dawn. He had not yet reached the height and breadth of Private Pansy, but at this rate he would surpass the big batpony by Winter Wrap-Up.

Eb almost trampled the young unicorn when he stepped out of the elevator on his way to the Royal Bedchambers, and it took a moment for him to remember what seemed like years ago when he and Luna had made their request for information.

“Pine… Apple,” managed Eb. “Oh. Yes. You were researching—”

“Not here,” hissed the young unicorn. He lit his horn and pulled Eb off into a nearby room, or at least encouraged his motion in that direction. Ebon Tide had gotten far too strong to be moved without his leave, faster than anypony had a right to recover his strength and then some. The first time he had thrown the big minotaur in sparring practice, it had been a shock. Now, he had a fair chance of tossing or being tossed by all five of his playmates, although Pansy seemed the most hesitant to actually follow through on an attack like he should. To a small unicorn colt, he would have been an unstoppable opponent, able to kill him in more ways than ever.

“Mister Tide,” said Pine Apple once he had gotten him into the room and closed the door carefully. “I did everything you and Princess Luna asked, checked all the histories, put together a detailed timeline as far as it could go, but there were pieces of the puzzle missing. I know this was really important to you both, and I was stuck. I mean really stuck.”

The child was just so sincere and worried that Eb could not snap any kind of snarky response like he wanted after a long evening of hard activity.

“So why tell me now instead of waiting until we can meet with Princess Luna?” he managed.

“This is why.” The young unicorn squirmed around and pulled a giant sheaf of parchment off his back, then peeled several sheets off the top for him. They didn’t look that secret and scary at first glance, but after Eb read several lines, then went back and read them again, he could not believe their contents.

“A silent coup?”

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell Princess Luna. But it didn’t make sense. If the new batpony clans had really taken over the government, why did they give it back? How did they manage to take it over in the first place? Princess Celestia is really, really powerful, and—”

“Celestia would not have been able to resist an attack. She had become… indisposed after banishing her sister.” Eb hesitated before returning to the short description of impossible betrayal. “That is a secret. Tell nopony.”

“I’m collecting a lot of secrets lately,” admitted Pine Apple quietly while Eb was reading. “I’ll keep them. House Honor does not betray the Crown’s trust.”

“Good boy.” Eb read silently for a time, trying his best to absorb the child’s report. It was written in good Guard style, strict and to the point, much like he had been trained in the process early by his parents. The only problem was that the document raised more questions than it answered.

“We have only the pony point-of-view on this conspiracy,” mused Eb as he neared the end of the report. “The first four races of the Concordian are all represented in my sparring partners, all of whom were sent. Who sent them? Why?”

“Did you ask?” The young unicorn had a very sincere expression for asking such a ridiculous question, which upon further thought made more sense than dancing around the point in the way of adults.

“Obliquely, yes.” Eb considered the wisdom of children. “They would be naturally suspicious should I ask directly.”

“I could,” volunteered the young unicorn, looking up at him with glittering green eyes. “We can double up on the older members of the diplomatic contingent and get them to tell us their old stories if you will permit me to inform Peanut Brittle. She can keep a secret really well, if it’s important enough.”

“I scarcely think that a young—” Eb was forced to cut himself off as Pine Apple Squares sniffled and blinked away a tear.

“It’s really, really important, mister. I mean all we really want is a few stories from the old times, some of the tales that aren’t in any of the books. We’ll get extra points on our schoolwork that way, and besides, I’ve always been fascinated with stories of your home country. Please?”

“Urk.” Eb thumped his chest several times. “That’s enough. Mine own daughters could not elicit such sympathy. Were they here now, I would lock them away for fear you would steal both of them away. I have only one thing to add to your plea, or subtract in this case. Secrets are secret for a reason. Stating that you wish to reproduce such secrets in your schoolwork could impede your ability to extract them.”

He returned to his inspection of the terse report of ancient betrayal in which the Guard did naught to uncover whatever shadowy forces controlled Celestia for several decades, but he could not conceal a faint smile at the unexpected skills Pine Apple had displayed so far. “Perhaps you are a descendant of mine own.”

“I’m not sure,” said Pine. “I looked, of course, but genealogy records of that era are scrambled up with the move from the Everfree to Canterlot. Some ponies changed names when the batpony clans were established. I suppose they sounded better.”

When he had read as much as he could handle for the moment, Eb twisted around and put the sheets of parchment into the slim saddlebag he had begun to carry around for the constant flow of papers which this era mandated. “The two of you are free to Investigate to the best of thy abilities, but remember, in the end it matters not. The dead are dead, and their actions died with them. Still, speak not to others of these matters. Foul forces would be eager to use the past to besmirch ponies of the present, including Her Highness.”

“That’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about,” said Pine Apple. “There’s a reporter snooping around the hallways. Um… They besmirch a lot.”

It did not seem like a very important thing at the time. Eb’s mind was filled with far more thoughts, like what he was going to do once Princess Luna finished lowering the moon and returned to her chambers. Keeping secrets from ones liege was forbidden, but this was less a secret and more a cipher, an activity which Luna loved more than a great number of things and held as an example of her return to the modern age.

Dawn had arrived by the time Eb and Pine went back into the corridor, strolling along at a slow pace while Eb asked several quiet questions about the child’s report. What he had seen while leafing through the hefty sheaf of papers had impressed him greatly, and he had made a note to see the child inducted into the Guard if at all possible when he matured.

The distraction made him miss a tall ivory-white unicorn mare, who was loitering in the corridor outside of the Lunar Chambers with a notepad and sharp yellow pencil in her magic field. Her eyes flickered from Eb to young Pine Apple, then over to the unguarded door, and back to Eb with a particular glint. “Ah,” she breathed and gently brushed back some of her loose blonde mane to give him a far more intense scrutiny. She had pale blue eyes the color of purest sapphire and just as cold, locking gazes with him and apparently unbothered by his appearance. “The mysterious ancient soldier, snatched from certain death in the Moon by our beloved newest princess.”

“Show me your permission to be in this restricted area or I will see you removed,” said Eb in his most threatening tone, which practically poured off the slender mare like water from a duck. She merely smiled with perfect white teeth in return and produced a small folded piece of paper.

“Interview request approved by the Crown public affairs office.” The piece of paper floated in Eb’s direction, then jerked back when he reached for it. “Now, now. A good interview starts out with trust.”

Pine Apple’s aura abruptly formed around the hovering missive, and while the unknown mare struggled for control, Eb wrapped one wing around the conflicted message and pulled it to his body. “Trust must be earned,” stated Eb. “Thank you, Pine.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” responded the young colt, who was still watching the unknown mare carefully. “Warleader Ebon Tide, this is the reporter I told you about earlier.”

“Diamonde Penstroke,” said the slender mare with a smile full of bright white teeth. “You can call me D, for short.”

Torn between reading the short note and keeping an eye on the suspicious reporter, Eb decided on interleafing the two activities. In the end, he folded up the note and placed it securely in his own saddlebag with the rest of the problems he had been accumulating recently.

“A short interview,” he begrudgingly growled. “Ask your questions.”

“Oh, not you.” Diamonde looked up at the sound of approaching hoofsteps and a sly smile began to ooze up onto her face, something ill-concealed behind the modern ‘cosmetics’ that she had used to cover her natural appearance. “Your Highness,” she breathed, lowering her neck in a short bow that would have gotten her thrown headfirst out of Luna’s presence in a different time. “I was just having the most delightful discussion with your—” she coughed slightly “—loyal guard. Diamonde Penstroke, at your service, Your Highness. I received approval from the palace public affairs office for a brief interview this morning. If we could step into your chambers and continue this conversation, I would be most appreciative.”

Princess Luna did not look like she wanted to answer any questions. The pale blue eyeshadow that she had begun to use was faded and beginning to blotch, and her coat was rough in patches where she had been resting during her evening tasks. There had been no end of official functionaries who wished to speak with Her Highness at all hours to explain their particular cog in the bureaucratic machine, and why it needed more bits for oil lest the whole mechanism grind to a terrible halt. Sunrise spelled the end of their pleas, particularly after she made it known that while Sun was up, she was only to be disturbed by things on fire.

There was a not-so-subtle implication in her statement that if things were not on fire when she was disturbed, they would be soon, starting with the disturber.

Luna’ cool teal gaze slid from the reporter over to Eb, then darted down to the alert young unicorn colt who was sitting perfectly upright at his side. “Beg pardoner, Miss Diamonde. We have a previous appointment. Your interview will wait.”

“Oh, about that.” The reporter had a very pleased smile, much like a predator seeing a wounded prey animal all alone. “You see, I already have an article set to run in this evening’s Canterlot Sun. Had to reserve the space for my column, you see. If I’m unable to get your interview today, I’m afraid it will have to run instead of—” her smile only grew into a shark-like grin “—this.”

“I see.” Eb had gotten quite good at recognizing alicorn body language, and all he could think of was a very small shark who had just antagonized an extremely large shark and had not realized her mistake yet. Luna was restraining her ire well to any ordinary observer, but Eb could hear the snap in her voice as she added, “I presume the news paper article you are referring to is rather derogatory in nature?”

“There are so many rumors flying about the palace,” said Diamonde as she raised her notepad and placed the pencil to it. “Cracks in your renewed relationship with your sister, for example. Your difficulty acclimating to our modern era. And some particularly tasty rumors about your relationship with your personal guard. I mean Shining Armor is just so scrubbed and clean he squeaks, so the only stories there are on the society pages. Princess Mi Amore and her young stallion visit the such-and-such festival, photos on page five. But him?”

Diamonde gave Eb a long, evaluating look, from his stubby tail to the short mane around his ears that had just barely grown out enough that he was considering having it barbered down to his previous approved Guard cut. Eb had never really been looked at that way before except by his wife, and it made his regrowing skin crawl under his thickening grey coat.

“You believe that We are taking inappropriate actions in regard to Warleader Ebon Tide,” said Luna in a tone of voice that indicated it was not a question in any regard.

“No!” Diamonde gave a little hoof-flip of derision while her pencil continued its work on the notepad, most probably writing the exact opposite. “What you do with your handsome hunk is entirely up to you. I mean rank hath its privileges after all. Princess Celestia at least keeps her private assignments private. You’re prancing around through the city with tall dark and sexy there all evenings, checking out the night life with your little fillyfriend for cover. I mean it’s just so obvious.”

“Obvious,” said Luna flatly.

“And now you’ve got a little unicorn colt as a plaything,” continued Diamonde with a smirk. “Really, I’ve got so many questions that you all really want to answer.”

Eb had been holding himself perfectly immobile since the reporter had insinuated Peanut Brittle was some sort of… No, he could not think that thought or he was going to murder the mare right here in the middle of the corridor. Then she expanded her slander to Pine Apple and something deep inside him snapped like a burning twig, making his words come out razor-sharp and deadly.

“Ask what questions you wish, and we shall answer to the best of our abilities. However, I must warn you, if you cast aspersions upon Her Highness, even in the slightest, I will kill you where you stand.”

The reporter snorted in amusement, then the carefree expression on her face did not so much as slide off but faded into the corners of her eyes. She appeared to be unable to turn away from his face for a long moment, only to jerk in shock as Princess Luna added, “And I shall pardon him.”

“You can’t be serious,” said the reporter in what appeared to be a reflexive instinct to deny any reality she did not like.

Ebon Tide allowed his lips to curl back, revealing his new, sharp teeth. “Try me.”

Her cold eyes flickered down to where Pine Apple was still sitting perfectly immobile by his side, although Eb could feel the child tremble where he was pressed up against one leg.

“You wouldn’t do anything in front of the kid,” said the reporter rapidly as if she were trying to weave a defensive spell out of mere words.

“I am a scion of House Honor,” said Pine Apple in a voice worthy of a unicorn twice his age and then some. “We serve the Princesses.”

20. Deja Vu

The Last Nightguard
Deja Vu

“Duplicate entries in log files are discouraged. Even if nothing different happened between log entries, there should be some way of differentiating the types of nothing happening.”
—Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume One and Three

The next dawn found Ebon Tide back in Princess Luna’s quarters, too filled with unreleased energy to sleep but with quite enough papers to occupy his expanded hours of wakefulness and then some. The thumping of the outside door did not even rouse him from a careful word-by-word examination of the first post-banishment treaty between Equestria and Minos, a document that he could have sworn he had seen before.

“We hath made a discovery without you that we must share at once.” A brownish chunk of wood with thick green leaves sticking out of one end thumped onto his table in the one spot that did not have some sort of document covering it several sheets deep. “Behold, the pineapple.”

Eb glared sideways at the strange not-fruit. “It appears to have neither qualities of a pine or an apple. Are you certain you have not been deceived in jest?”

“Quite positive.” The odd fruit took flight in Luna’s dark magic and Her Highness took a substantial bite from one side with a crunching noise that would have shattered an ordinary pony’s teeth. A short stint of chewing later, she swallowed and announced, “Quite tasty indeed, and sweet without the cloying crust of sugar that my sister prefers.” Eb took a tentative bite from the softer innards of the fruit and chewed while Luna continued to praise it. “It is good to have a food which provides the amount of fibre an alicorn requires without the foul taste of alfalfa. Blech!”

“To each their own.” Eb returned to his studies only to have Luna tug once at his desk contents. “And I am holding onto the news paper until this eve when you awaken. If you read it now as your wont, you will merely fret and complain until deep in the day and awaken to your task with a great need for that vile beverage.”

“Coffee is divine,” responded Luna with a faint hint of outrage.

“Infernal, perhaps.” Eb folded the news paper sheet carefully and placed it where Luna could see. “If it will quiet your concerns, Diamonde Penstroke’s printed interview was quite informative and even vaguely resembled our conversation, with few exclusions.”

“You threatened to kill her,” reminded Luna.

“I informed her of the consequences of any deception,” said Eb flatly.

“Which would have been you killing her.” Luna shook her head and made quiet tut-tut-tut noises under her breath. “I would have preferred you not threaten these ‘reporters’ in our modern era.”

“It was not a threat. It was a promise.”

“Like you promised to kill me.” Luna did not meet his eyes, but went over to her bed and flopped down on it with her back to him. All of the eagerness and joy had sagged out of her like a deflating bladder, leaving a mere immortal curled up and exposing her back to any attack he might make where she could not see the blow coming. Again.

“Once, the Guard I knew as Ebon Tide would not have become so overcome with rage to swear himself to treason, nor intimidated a seeker of truth into changing what they tell unto others.”

It was an honest observation, a mirror which reflected a warped and distorted version of the Guard he had once been and could never be once more.

“Frustration is a powerful evil,” he admitted. “As you yielded to its tempting call and became Nightmare Moon, your magic in my heart is quite difficult to fight in turn. I would have slain the deceptive reporter had she offered offense, right there in front of… Pineapple Squares, the young child who would have been affected by the bloody sight for the rest of his life. And it is getting worse,” he admitted quickly before he could hide his weakness.

“What?” Luna rolled over, her bloodshot eyes and obvious fatigue cast aside for the moment.

“The dark magic which you used to save my life was supposed to fade away as I recovered,” said Eb.

It was a difficult admission, which he had delayed making for multiple weeks until it had gotten too ominous to ignore any longer. He pressed forward, forcing the words out despite his inner reluctance to admit weakness.

“It has not. I fear it is growing stronger. That is why I was searching through this—” he struck the pile of paperwork “—for some hint about how the batponies of that age adapted to their situation.”

Luna said nothing, but her expression spoke volumes, so he spoke for her.

“Should I feel there is a possibility I am about to be overcome by your fel magic, I shall remove myself from your presence. My training with the other races has helped control my dark urges or I would not have continued.”

There was an additional aspect of his dreadful transformation that he would not, could not speak of. If the dark magic took him over and pitted him against the Royal Sisters, they would be able to destroy him together. The threat would unite them as they were long ago, which would be blood well spent if he did not kill one of them in the process.

“Why did you not tell me this earlier?” said Luna flatly.

“It would not have changed anything.”

“It would have changed everything,” snapped Luna. “I can’t take my magic back. Nightmare Moon tried that to fight Celestia, and it killed everypony she touched.”

“Killed.” Eb took a short breath. “Obviously, there were those of my kind who you changed but did not slay. They lived. I will die. Why!”

“I don’t know.” There was a set to Luna’s jaw that Eb had never seen before, an iron expression of determination that boded ill for anything that opposed her. “Had I been thinking, I would never have unleashed my power upon you in the first place, much like I never would have fallen to Nightmare’s allure. This shall not occur again. Too many have fallen to my weakness. If you believe the secret to your mastering and overcoming my magic is to be hidden within ancient records, then we shall split the planet in half to see them unearthed. And the first place we must seek answers is at an ancient fossil who resides within these very walls.”

* * *

Arranging a simple meeting was anything but simple. Between Princess Luna’s general reluctance to speak with her sister and a Royal Schedule packed to the brim, Eb was beginning to think it would have been easier to stage an armed coup and hold Her Highness for ransom. Certainly there would be a conversation during the negotiations, which was far better than occasional glimpses of Celestia’s rear as she hustled out of a room moments after he arrived. Some of that frustration bled out into his evening sparring session with Crimson, who was taking far more of a beating than Eb intended.

“Out!” gasped the dragoness from behind Ebon Tide’s crooked foreleg. She slapped the dusty sparring circle with one muscular hand. “Out, I said!”

“Oh! Beg pardon, m’lady.” Eb disentangled himself from the dragon, unwrapping wings and armored legs with great care because there were still sharp claws on the end of those hands, and an aggravated dragon had been known to take a parting swipe when she thought she could get away with it.

“What’s gotten into you, big guy?” The dragoness straightened back up with a popping of relocated vertebrae. “You’re gonna give the kids bad ideas.”

“Why? It’s awesome,” breathed Pineapple Squares, who had managed to wedge a space next to Peanut Brittle in between armored knees and fidgeting bat-wings of the observing Guards and various other observers of various species and ages. Eb had not been happy with his ‘coincidental’ audience sneaking in to watch, but he had to admit that he would have done exactly the same thing in his younger years.

“I wanna grow up to fight like that,” said Peanut Brittle with a flutter of her wings. “Wham! Pow!”

“What, do you want to be Eclipse when you get bigger?” asked one of the bat-winged Guards to the general laughter of the rest.

“Laugh it up, you canned bats,” said Crimson with a snort of pain as she tried to put weight on one leg. That only made the laughter among the Night Guards grow until she added, “Which one of you wants to get into the ring with the canopener next?”

“We shall.” The Night swept over the moonlit sparring circle and in the time it took to blink, Princess Luna was standing next to Crimson, who gave a little sideways jump while puffing out some smoke. The dragoness looked back and forth between Eb and the princess before ever so slowly beginning to back away and out of Eb’s view, her limp forgotten for the moment.

“Princess.” Eb swept down into a deep bow, far lower than a serving Guard should.

“Warleader.” Luna gave a short dip of her head in response. “Our recovery hath reached an impasse. Without an opponent to confront, our skills have nothing to measure against. We have watched thy practice from a distance and believe it is time.”

“Princess?” One of the observers took a half-step forward, still holding a medical kit under one wing, but that step was all he got. Luna’s cool teal eyes swept in his direction and the armored guard came to an abrupt and quite silent halt.

“In our day, we sparred frequently with Our Guard. There were no fatalities, so hold thy modern medicine until it is needed.”

“You don’t have any armor,” said the Guard, still frozen in place.

Luna snorted and narrowed her eyes. “Would you have me wrap myself in the ebon armor of Nightmare Moon?”

All of the Guards slowly shook their heads, although Peanut Brittle perked up and would have practically fell into the sparring circle with the enthusiasm of youth if she had not been restrained by a small batpony with astonishingly large wings for her size.

“Then tend to thine own selves and observe.” Luna turned to Eb, spread her wings slightly, and crouched. “Proceed.”

“Are you certain?” asked Eb. He had no intention of mentioning out loud his trouble mastering the dark magic that still churned in his belly at times, but it went without saying. What was worse, the Guards at the observation area were all watching with rapt attention, and Eb could only imagine what would happen when word of their battle got back to…

Celestia.

“Make it look good,” whispered Eb. He was no more ready for the fight than before, but at least there was a meaning to his discomfort and an even higher threshold to his potential failure.

Luna moved, and to Ebon Tide’s practiced reflexes and recent growth, she seemed painfully slow. As was her wont, she first swept across his legs with one wingtip in a blur of motion. He sprang into the air as a counter and stomped, catching the trailing edge of her wings and plucking a half-dozen broken feathers as if they had been cut with a knife. The new shoes he acquired several weeks earlier were proving their worth, moreso when he managed to parry a forehoof strike that followed. Sparks flew and Eb drifted backward to a gentle landing, his broad membranous wings giving him an edge in maneuverability.

“We are out of practice,” said Luna almost casually. She flexed a fetlock, then dropped into a crouch again. “Defend thyself!”

There was little holding back on Luna’s part when she darted forward again. Eb’s life immediately became one of training and reflex. The modern armor proved its worth several times in the next few seconds, deflecting strong blows or bites multiple times that should have struck home if Eb had not twisted or interposed the thin metal at the last moment. Never had he been struck this hard and fast before in his entire career, and yet he managed to roll or dodge what he could not block for what seemed like hours. There was an endless crash of steel on steel as Luna’s shod hooves darted and spun, hammering him like a tin pan on the anvil, but Eb could feel his heart beating even faster as their dance of destruction spun across the dusty sparring ring.

He was holding his own, and the sensation filled his heart with a song of destruction. Hammering alicorn hooves smashed and struck, but Eb sped up with every blow until a particular sequence of strikes left a narrow opening for him to strike.

He did.

The moment his steel-shod hoof crashed forward with every bit of strength he could muster, Ebon Tide knew he had made a dreadful mistake. His protective designee, the mare who he had pledged his life to protect above all others, fell backward with a thin stream of blood pouring from her nose and the flutter of wings caught unprepared. Luna hit the dirt with a puff of dust and skidded, but thankfully looked relatively undamaged other than her pride and her pert little nose having gotten a little flatter.

There was a very long silence, with the blood trickling down Luna’s face looking like molten silver in the moonlight. Not a single Guard in the observation area moved other than to breathe, although he could hear a faint gasp from Peanut Brittle over the sound of his hammering heart.

The powerful scent of blood filled the air, a growing wisp of deadly encouragement to his simmering rage. All he wanted to do was fling himself at his hated enemy and not stop until she was a dripping pile of shattered bones and crushed flesh. He could taste unleashed anger on the night breeze, and it took every single speck of his will to remain motionless instead of launching forward to complete his sworn task.

Eventually, Luna lifted one hoof and touched it to her bleeding nose. She looked down, then back up at Eb. Ever so slowly, she raised her head to expose her neck, waited for an eternity measured in his hammering heartbeats, then lowered it again until she could look in his eyes.

“Thy blow was fair and true,” she said in an extraordinarily controlled voice. “Our practice this eve is over for now. We shall see thee at dawn.”

And then she was gone, vanishing into the night sky and the twinkling stars like she had never been there.

* * *

Technically, it was breakfast. The meal served to awaken and invigorate most of the pony populace, but to the batponies, it was more of a snack before bedtime. After the excitement of the sparring circle, Eb had not really wanted to continue with training. Instead, he attempted to crush his burning feelings of vengeance and bloodshed by way of parchment and ink. After all, Pineapple Squares and Peanut Brittle had been conducting secret intelligence gathering operations among Equestria’s allies and somepony needed to debrief them while checking their reports for accuracy. The fact that their meeting place just happened to be a room fairly adjacent to the Royal Towers was a complete coincidence

Really.

Strenuous effort in tracking down rumors was a good distraction from the growing possibility of a traitorous death when the nightmarish dark magic eventually took control of him. ‘Unicorn work’ was the common working-class phrase for being hock-deep in parchments, but Eb had never really minded it. Since he started this project, he had practically memorized every document from just after his era, every careful phrase, every pledge and promise. The pieces all were supposed to fit together like some giant puzzle, but there were no indications where they connected, or how, or even if they all belonged to each other.

Pineapple’s additional contribution to the confusion was a collection of ancient legends and foal’s stories where ordinary citizens were given extraordinary powers which they used to help their fellow creatures no matter the differences between them. Apparently, every sapient the children spoke to provided similar stories. Each story linked together into a framework of sorts, individual on their own but interlaced as if told by a single piper guiding children to a hidden destiny in the mountains by way of an enticing tune.

Or a conspiracy designed to… release power instead of controlling it?

The more he learned, the less it made sense. Without the guiding hoof of the Sisters, one banished to the moon and the other distraught to the point of incapacitation, the nation of Equestria should have been vulnerable to external forces, torn apart inside and out. Instead, it flourished in ways that boggled his mind, including an entire library shelf devoted to uniting these same forces through childish stories.

“Dawn is nigh,” came Princess Luna’s voice from nearby, which shocked Eb out of a complicated discussion about the relative worth of wishes gainsaid from a captive kirin.

Research of rumors was a far different task than several weeks ago when the two adults had ventured away from the children for a more mature observation of the night. There were some things about this modern era that Eb just had to accept without thinking about them too much. The brief foray they had made through the bars and ‘dives’ of Canterlot in the company of Princess Cadence had been educational. Far too educational in some regards. His astonishment at the ways that modern ponies had tortured the common grape and wheat kernel was only secondary to the fashion that modern mares dressed in such dark and noisy places. And then there was disco, and Luna’s rather… exuberant response to the dance floor.

This social dance was far different, in ways that Eb was beginning to detest. “Go forth and do your duty. We are busy with our research group at the moment,” he replied. “Unless your sister varies her tight schedule in order to extend an invitation for us to dine with you, I’m afraid we shall be quite occupied until late into the day.”

“But—” started Pineapple before catching Eb’s eye. “Oh. That’s right.” The unicorn colt ever so slowly turned his head to look in Luna’s direction, then returned to his notes in a hurry. Knowing Luna’s tendency to melodrama, she probably had several pieces of absorbent toilet paper dangling out of her nose and spots of blood dabbed strategically on her kerchief of duty.

There was a faint noise and the room became somehow emptier, although it was filled with a new tension. Even Peanut Brittle was not quite her normal chirpy self and gave the open doorway a nervous glance.

“Yes, I hit her during our sparring,” said Eb. “You know that. You were there.”

“I didn’t think it was possible,” said Pineapple Squares. “It was all my family could talk about when we went home for lunch. They said she was unbeatable, that the only batpony who ever beat her was Eclipse, and that was like a bazillion years ago.”

He had not wanted to say the words, particularly in front of the children, but he could not lie to them. His end was inevitable. There would be no recovery for him like the hundreds of batponies left alive after Nightmare Moon’s banishment. They had survived by some trick of fate or ancient secret, but with Celestia disabled and Luna departed, that historical gateway for him was closed and locked. When the dark magic in his belly grew too strong…

“You’ve got that look,” said Peanut Brittle, far more serious than she had ever looked in the short time Eb had known her. “Dad looks like that whenever he’s deployed away from home on something dangerous that he doesn’t tell us about. Mama too.”

“She gets really edgy when that happens,” said Pineapple, shuffling his small hooves to move papers around on the table rather than use his magic. He was obviously edgy now, because his voice sped up until he was practically stuffing words on top of each other. “Then I get nervous and my family gets all protective and there’s a lot of hugging and we wind up together with all kinds of storytelling way into the day. That’s where some of those stories actually came from. You should hear some of the stuff they talk about when all the diplomatic delegations meet and all the off-duty security go out drinking. Only they don’t go out, since that’s not very safe. Mostly they wind up over at our House, and my father tries to deduct the cost of the drinks as a business expense.”

Eb stopped his futile flipping through pages of children’s stories. His search for a way to stop his growing dark magic had degraded to the absurd, and the bubbling of rage beneath his skin was impossible to ignore any more.

“It doesn’t matter,” he managed to squeeze out from between sharp gritted teeth. “In several weeks time, a month at best, the dark magic Princess Luna used to save me will kill me instead.”

Despite his overwhelming feelings about his upcoming demise, he felt even worse at dumping his problems on children. Thankfully, they did not seem as crushed by the news as an adult would be. After all, a month to an adult was a mere flicker of time, when to a child it was forever.

“We’ll find something,” said Peanut. “Luna needs you.”

“I am not needed by— Well, perhaps I have some use in that regard,” admitted Eb through his depression. “Marginally.”

“Princess Celestia should know whatever saved the batponies back then,” said Pineapple Squares carefully. “Provided we can talk it out of her. Sometimes, old ponies don’t like to talk about painful memories.”

“Always.” Eb swallowed. “The young have few experiences to regret. The longer we live, the more we collect.”

“Then we can make this a good memory,” blurted out Peanut. “Like creamed asparagus.”

“Yuch,” said Eb and Pineapple Squares at the same moment.

It lifted some of the darkness off Eb’s soul and gave him a quiet smile when Princess Luna returned and announced that her sister would be honored to break fast with the four of them, having cleared her schedule rather abruptly.

* * *

Breakfast was supposed to be a time when Princess Celestia would eventually recall some small fragment of memory that would save Warleader Ebon Tide’s life. Instead, it was four nervous ponies sitting around a table while Eb stewed in silence. Neither of the children could muster the courage to confront Celestia, while Luna evaded the subject like an earth pony clogdancer. Even Celestia’s obvious desire to know the obvious origin for her sister’s obvious bloodstains was muffled by her strict discipline and concentration on inflicting microscopic wounds on the various breakfast items, much like a giant white mouse in the room with a silent cat.

Social interactions always made Eb feel uneasy, but they were becoming more comfortable the longer he tried. Even his three non-pony sparring partners had become something vaguely similar to but not entirely… friends. It was not exactly the same thing as dining with the Royal Sisters. Far from it, in fact. But at least he could talk to them, dragon, griffon, or minotaur, quite unlike this morning.

The quiet princess sitting at the end of the table was an insurmountable obstacle. He could still see her hovering over the battlefield with the Elements of Harmony swirling around her, rainbow streams of power lancing out to engulf Nightmare Moon… and him. He could never forgive her for using that power on her sister. Or on himself. Resentment roiled in his gut, a boiling pool of hatred that never dropped below simmering.

And yet… he had taken The Oath. He had pledged himself to their protection on his blood and honor. He had broken that oath when he struck Princess Luna from behind, no matter her condition. His traitorous actions had no effect on Nightmare Moon’s imprisonment. If he had just sat on the ground and played Bounders, the exact same thing would have happened. Nightmare Moon would have been banished, returned in the same way, and been sitting right next to her sister like she was right now.

Well, without Eb, he doubted if Pineapple Squares and Peanut Brittle would have been sitting at the Royal breakfast table, playing with their crumbs of blueberry muffins and looking horribly uncomfortable. So little food was consumed so far that Eb was starting to feel depressed about the waste. They had just gotten to the diced cantaloupe at the end of the meal when Eb could not take it any longer.

A profanity was called for, but the presence of the children thankfully muted Eb’s ire. “I give up,” he snapped. “What did you do to keep the rest of the transformed batponies alive after Luna was banished! They’d have the same dark magic problem, since the ones who had their magic removed, died. You can’t have forgotten something that important! BELL ME! Um… I mean tell me,” he added very quietly.

Peanut Brittle seemed to be caught somewhere between fear and laughter, but at least his flub broke the ice enough for Pineapple Squares to speak up.

“Ma’am.” The unicorn colt swallowed hard to get one last bite of cantaloupe finished before blurting out a whole string of words. “We sorta lied a little and let Princess Luna get bopped on the nose to talk with you about this, and it’s really important. Warmaster Tide just keeps growing every time I see him and pretty soon he’s gonna be a big as Eclipse and he keeps getting more violent even though we’re not supposed to talk about it and pretty soon he may lose it and if you know how the first batponies managed to survive whatever Luna did to them before she was banished and that’s all I have to say.”

The spoon hovering in front of Celestia did not waver in the least, although her violet eyes grew misty. Pineapple opened his mouth to say something else but Peanut held a hoof over his face quick as a wink.

At first, Eb had no idea why the children were acting that way, but the longer the silence in the Royal Breakfast Nook lasted, the more he began to understand. Celestia was not really there at the moment, but miles and centuries away in a place where Eb had been a few scant months ago.

Even Princess Luna paused, just looking at her sister’s tranquil face and apparently attempting to recapture that time before their lives had split asunder. Ever so slowly, one dark feathered wing extended across Celestia’s back, stroking across her flowing mane in small, hesitant motions.

The moment lasted far longer than Eb thought it would with two impatient children in the room, but eventually Celestia blinked several times and practically breathed one word.

“Eclipse. I have not heard that name in many years.”

“He’s real?” said Pineapple, sounding slightly stunned. “I thought he was just in stories.”

“He was real. And just in stories, also. My first real memories of that time were of his children.”

“Myths don’t have children,” ventured Eb, hoping to keep the chain of memories moving.

“Oh, he had many children. I believe there was at least one of his offspring in our personal service for several centuries following my recovery.” Celestia put down the spoon precisely next to her dessert plate with the faintest of noises.

“You replaced Dawns Light?” asked Luna.

Celestia shook her head, letting her flowing mane drift down across the table. “Perhaps. I don’t remember exactly, and by the time I could, they were both gone. Things came back to me so slowly. I do know one thing, though.”

* * *

Lichyards held no appeal for Ebon Tide, no matter how beautiful the design or the way the early morning light made the whole faux-garden glow with life. Even though the wrought-iron scrollwork over the entrance proclaimed it as the Memorial Gardens, it was still a place of death where all ponies were fated to reside when their time was up. Well, most of present company excepted.

“I come here every year, sometimes two or three times.” Celestia had landed several bodylengths from three worn tombstones and placed Pineapple Squares to her side. The colt had tolerated the rather abrupt flight without complaint, although his green eyes were still wide with shock. Even Peanut Brittle had managed to keep up with the Royal Sisters, her little wings flapping like crazy until she sagged onto the Garden’s close-cut grass.

“Not here, though,” added Celestia as if she were still centuries away. “Too much pain, I suppose. And I did not wish to interrupt young lovers.”

Eb quickly cleared his throat before Peanut could offer the expected question. “Young couples visit a grave?”

“Graves. He had two wives, you see, and many of the—” Celestia hesitated with a brief glance at Peanut Brittle and Pineapple Squares “—younger ponies come here to rub his stone for luck, and if I recall, the young mares rub the stones of his wives for fer— Ahem. In the hopes that they will have many foals.”

“There have been odder practices in our time,” admitted Eb.

“So all three of them were batponies?” asked Peanut. “The stones are different.”

“His wives were unicorns. Our Factotum, as it was called back then, the closest advisors and companions we had in that era. To have both of them married to a pegasus… It was quite the scandal in that age.” Celestia’s faint smile grew as she settled down in the grass to examine the smaller pair of the three stones more carefully. “I have not thought of them in ages. Dawn’s Light and Dusky.”

Luna cocked an eyebrow at her sister with a disbelieving squint. “Dusky? We fail to see how any pony of any type could have romanced her without sufficient rope and harness. And you expect me to believe she shared a mate with her sister? One of my kind mated to both of them?”

“I’m hesitant to believe it also,” admitted Eb, although he was not willing to admit the difficulties a mixed-race romance would cause in his era to the unicorn and batpony children listening so intently. “Still, it is written in stone, I suppose. Or at least would be written if the stones had any lettering that had not worn smooth with the ages.”

“One of my creations who not only lived, but lived life to the fullest measure.” Luna ran one hoof over the smooth surface of each stone in turn. “It gives me hope for Eb.”

“What?” Ebon Tide was startled out of his thoughtful fugue by the comment, making the rather impossible mental image he had of the terrifying unicorn twins and some strange epic batpony as a family evaporate out of the top of his head.

“We said this gives us hope that something in our world can save your life,” stated Luna quite plainly. “You are valued to us, and the thought of you passing away disturbs us.”

“I as well,” said Celestia somewhat reluctantly. “You were a valued member of our household at one time, and we did not get to know you nearly as well then as we have in these last few months. Now, come with me.”

Powerful long white limbs stretched as Celestia got up from where she had been resting on the short grass, she gave a brief shake to shed a few loose bits of debris, and turned to stroll slowly down one of the nearby pathways that led to a distant gate. “We shall walk rather than suffer young Pineapple any more embarrassment, and spend the morn within our study where I have stored much trivia through the ages. Perhaps we will find something there to trigger a memory.”

* * *

Celestia’s packed study could have easily occupied a wing or two of the museum that he had toured with Princess Luna, and been far more accurate since the curator was present when each piece of the collection had been obtained. One day turned into a week, and then several as the towering alicorn went through the events of the last several centuries immortalized in stained glass and inconspicuous trivets. Every item had a story, and although they were individually fascinating, too many of them at once had a staggering impact on Eb’s ability to stay awake. Several times he found himself greeting Moonrise by awakening on a couch or cushion in the elegant item-stuffed room, once with both Peanut and Pineapple snuggled against him like a pillow.

This day he was alone with Her Highness as they mused over a ceramic banana and her rather vague memories of a visit to Huchapuchaka a mere century ago and the rather peculiar inhabitants who lived in that land.

“It was really unfair that their chieftain told me this banana was not for eating. I think he was making a little fun out of my first impression with bananas.”

“They’re very good,” admitted Eb. “When your sister was watching over me, she ate the outsides and gave me the insides. Said it was a good source of fiber.”

“True. Still, my introduction to them was not quite so subtle,” admitted Celestia. “I took a bite since it was obviously some sort of food, but I had not realized it came in two parts. It wasn’t until one of the diplomats showed me how to peel it that I realized how my first impression inside the country was distorted. We still established trade routes almost immediately, and the country now is the source of nearly half our banana imports and twenty percent of canned mangos. And I brought back several bunches of the fruit,” she added. “Nopony else made that mistake, so I just kept quiet about it.”

“So what does this have to do with batponies?” asked Eb, turning over the ceramic banana and looking for a purpose, like a holder for salt or quills rather than just a banana being a banana.

“Mangos,” said Celestia plainly. “A number of the Guards were batponies. There were mangos in several of the warehouses. One of the warehouses just happened to be conveniently close to the diplomatic negotiations. Do I need to spell it out?”

Eb winced. “Were they so undisciplined that they did not purchase—”

“Captain Redfern forbade it. Said if the Huchapuchakians were hostile, they’d poison the mangos and do away with half of my protection in one fel swoop. That worked during the day.”

“And at night, they raided the warehouse,” completed Eb with one hoof pressed against his forehead. “I take it there were no executions, or even floggings?”

“There were far worse punishments for the miscreants,” said Celestia quite unhelpfully, although she pointed out a dark spot on the bottom of the ceramic banana. “The culprits were caught in the middle of their theft and attempted to flee through a different warehouse which contained a great amount of fresh warm tar. By dawn when they were brought before me, they… It was humorous. For us,” she added quickly with a growing snicker. “They dripped. Tar does not come out of anypony’s coat well, and I maintained a respectful distance for the rest of the trip, but even with cleaning spells there were still spots and patches that showed up for months. You have never seen a Royal Guard so embarrassed as when I would pass by with a dark blotch on my butt.”

“Princess!” chided Eb with a quick glance around the room just in case the children had returned unexpectedly.

“Well, it’s true.” Celestia’s low chuckle eventually died out, although the smile remained when she changed conversational directions rather abruptly. “I hope you do not mind, but I sent for my Trusted Student and her friends yesterday.”

“The Elements of Harmony,” said flatly. “I would suppose the moon hath space for my return.”

Celestia shook her head, but the smile finally faded away into a look of remembrance. “Perhaps. We sincerely hope not. When I was forced to pick up the Elements, it was an act of desperation. Twilight Sparkle succeeded in cleansing my sister where I failed, despite my age and experience. It is the obvious solution to your problem, but there are many uncertainties.”

“Such as they may draw out the dark magic and kill me,” said Eb. “The risk is negligible, for I would die either way. Or they may petrify me or banish me to the moon, which would remind you of your failure and possibly make you relapse.”

After several small, short breaths, Celestia nodded. “A small chance, but a chance nonetheless. The risk made me obviously reluctant, but we are running low on options, I fear.”

“When?” asked Eb.

“That is the question, I admit.” Celestia gave a nervous glance to the window and the beams of warm sunlight pouring into her study. “I was thinking this evening might be best, so Luna can—”

“No,” said Eb as solidly as he could to his Dread Sovereign. “Twould be best done quickly and out of her view and that of the children. If it succeeds, I will inform her myself. If it fails… Well, I shall either be on the moon or dead, so it matters not. The weight shall not fall upon her shoulders. It is our duty to protect you after all.”

“No,” said Celestia much like she was biting into a lemon. “We shall not go behind our sister’s back again.”

“We live so you live. We die so you live,” recited Eb. “It is in our oath. We take the blows to protect you. Allow me to take this blow, Your Highness. Live or die, it shall be my decision.”

“I suppose you are right,” admitted Celestia reluctantly. “We have both taken so much from you.”

“To our last breath, to the last drop of blood in our bodies, to the end of our days,” recited Eb. “If this fails, let it be my last service to the Sisters.”

* * *

Ebon Tide was quite certain he was wrong, but in a generally right way. It was possible that the Elements of Harmony could cure his… whatever it could be called. In that case, he would go back to Princess Luna’s bedchambers and inform her. If the Elements failed, he would be petrified, dead, or banished, all of which left the difficult jobs to others. Still, it was his decision, and if he were to die in service as he had promised, he would face the Pale Mare with teeth bared and ready to fight for them in the next world as he had until now.

The last time he had seen Twilight Sparkle and her friends had been through delirious ranting of rage and insanity, so long ago and yet so recently. The six young mares seemed so much like children gathered in the green grass of the Royal Gardens right where they had been to free him from the moon. If it were not for the warmth of sunlight on his coat and the distant song of birds, he might have thought he was reliving a terrible memory, or perhaps just dreaming it all.

Of course he would have dreamed a much more confident group for the bearers of the legendary artifacts.

“Mister Tide, or should I use your title of Warmaster even though there hasn’t been a Warmaster since the EUP reorganized into the current form back when Celestia and Luna ascended to the thrones even though a lot of history just ignores Princess Luna and since you’re from that era I really wanted to discuss some historical anomalies that history books don’t cover if we could talk for a few days before using the Elements of Harmony on you. Again.”

Twilight Sparkle fidgeted and looked up at Princess Celestia, who was looming nearby. It was quite obvious that Celestia had not told her Trusted Student everything about Luna’s role in his current problem, and therefore it was not his place to mention it either. Still, Eb was quite tired of lies, both the spoken and unspoken kind.

“Fear not, Twilight Sparkle,” he said with as much confidence as he did not feel. “The dark Nightmare magic I hold within was used to save my life. I have no further need of its assistance, so once you have banished it, I will be willing to sit with you for whatever interviews you desire. Now, if you please. I am prepared.”

It was a lie, of course, but a necessary lie if he was reading the timid unicorn correctly. She seemed so young, a mere child no older than his own daughters. To have the responsibility of returning Celestia’s sister must have been a burden greater than the moon resting on those thin shoulders and her rather odd group of friends. The news papers had no end of strange fanciful stories about Twilight Sparkle, and Eb found it difficult to believe she was really able to wield the ancient artifact’s powers.

Until she put on the tiara and her friends gathered around her for support.

In a heartbeat, the timid unicorn of before transformed into a blazing force of pure magic that Eb could feel all the way to his tail. This was power beyond an alicorn, even beyond Nightmare Moon, given to a mere unicorn and her friends, and the dark magic in Ebon Tide’s trembling belly could recognize what was about to happen…

For the third time in his life, the Elements of Harmony unleashed their power on Ebon Tide.

21. Deja Vu

The Last Nightguard
Deja Vu

no mere storm swept us from the sky
shaken like a mouse in talons of the hawk
the strong and weak alike
driven before sun and moon like fledgelings
-- Killianthian the Upsworn, High Talon of Griffonant

It was like facing the strongest storm he had ever experienced, with the blast of magic scourging through his body in an unstoppable blast. He could taste colors, hear shapes, and touched the inestimable source behind the mere physical. The Elements of Harmony looked at him in some indescribable fashion, piercing through his willpower like he was a child and holding him to the light as if he were some interesting bauble that twinkled in the light.

Then ever so slowly, the sun pouring down on the Royal Gardens began to soak into his grey coat again, and the world once again made sense, even though it was still painfully bright.

“No physical changes that I can see,” mused Eb out loud, stretching membranous wings out to either side and giving them a trial flap. He stretched, struck a foreleg-stand with his wings for stability like the griffon had been teaching him, then rolled back to his hooves and did a practice spin-kick. “No changes at all, except the dark magic inside me seems quelled for the moment. I can still feel it, but it no longer claws for dominance. Perhaps it is tamed for a while, and—”

The featureless expanse of healthy grass in the Royal Gardens lawn bore obvious witness to the power that had been released across it. Whatever moisture had been in the vicinity was long gone, and the flattened dry blades of grass left wisps of steam around each of the Bearers of the Elements, all converging on Ebon Tide’s location and the smear of vitrified earth around him looking like a dark mirror. Twilight Sparkle and her friends were not injured, but were stretched out on the sun-warmed grass, twitching weakly. He nearly called out for assistance except several pegamedics were already on the move and mingling among the exhausted heroes of Equestria, although they did not approach him.

All he could do was get in the way, so Ebon Tide moved over to the hesitant princess in charge, who was sitting nearly rigid on a nearby rise in the lawn. She swallowed once when he approached, but did not acknowledge his presence in any other fashion, which made the dark magic inside his gut congeal like cold tar. Celestia never impassively allowed anypony to approach without acknowledging their presence and indicating in a subtle fashion if they were welcome or should return sometime later. Now, she simply sat, as if the real Princess of Equestria were a thousand years away and this was but an empty shell.

“Your Highness?” Eb kept his voice low so the nearby Guards and the Bearers of the Elements would not hear. “It’s over now.”

“I didn’t want to,” murmured Celestia in a near whisper. “She gave me no choice.”

It shocked Eb right down to his tailbone. Celestia sounded so broken, like a plate that had been glued together long ago and given one small bump. In his career, Warleader Ebon Tide had dealt with more than one soldier in nearly the same mental state, but to have a princess come apart like this was a far different cabinet full of crockery.

“You did what you had to,” said Eb into her ear. “Now you need to keep going. You are our princess, and everypony looks to you. I’ll walk with you back to your chambers and you can lie down for a while until it is time for you to lower the sun. You’ll feel better then, I promise.”

“You promise?” Celestia shuddered and leaned against Eb, colder than any amount of fall air could account for. “A thousand years. It is so long.”

“You did it,” said Eb almost under her breath. “You saved your sister and brought her back to rule at your side. You are the Royal Sisters once again, together forever. Now you need to stand up and walk back to your chambers with me. You’ll feel better after a little rest.”

“Some rest. Yes, of course.” Celestia stood back up, gave a slow nod to the Bearers of the Elements, then turned to leave. She walked in slow, careful steps across the lawn at his side which gave Eb enough time to look over his shoulder and make determined eye contact with Shining Armor, who had been supervising the Royal Guard security detachment.

“That’s it for now,” announced Shining Armor abruptly to the few guards who were not busy with other tasks. “See my sister and her friends back to the palace so they can take it easy for the rest of the day.”

“I’m okay,” protested Twilight Sparkle weakly. She was staggering to her hooves with Applejack at her side providing a boost and to keep her from sliding sideways on the steaming grass. “I just need to do some follow-up experiments, Shiny. It will only take a few minutes…”

It was a tiny spark of good in Eb’s trip back to the palace with Celestia striding alongside, seemingly nodding and turning corners without any attention to the outside world. For one terrifying instant, Eb had been afraid that the Elements had slain one or more of the heroes. Still, the way the six mares had been devastated precluded any more attempts to purge his magical malady, particularly with the way that Celestia had reacted.

On the surface, Princess Celestia did not appear to be anything other than distracted by some inner thought, but Ebon Tide had served under Her Highness for many years, and he could see the terrified child beneath the facade of her stoic expression. Quiet reassurance while they walked seemed to help, and Eb breathed a sigh of relief when her bedchambers door closed behind them.

“You’re safe, Princess.” Eb guided Celestia through the room in the direction of her massive bed, taking it slow and not making any rapid motions to startle her. “Just lie down and rest until this evening. I will stand by your side and awaken you at the appropriate hour for your duties.”

“So many dead,” murmured Celestia. She stepped out of her golden slippers while she walked, much like she had done probably every uncounted evening as she approached her bed. “Eclipse was a tower of strength, held them together. You would have liked him. So busy I almost never saw him.”

It brought up a thought that Eb could not help but think. “I don’t recall any of the Guard with that name, nor any other pegasus of station within the castle.”

“Names have always troubled me,” whispered Celestia. She stopped by the bed and rested her great horned head against one of the cloth-draped posts. “They come and go so fast, leaving me all alone for decades, centuries, forever.”

“You’re not alone now,” said Eb with as much encouragement as he could muster. “Luna has returned to your side, and she shall never leave you alone again.”

“D’wanna be alone. It’s bad.” Eb was caught completely flat-hooved as one huge alicorn wing encompassed him, dragging him onto the snow-white covers next to the cold shivering bulk of Her Highness. “Stay,” she murmured. “Plz.”

* * *

Hours later, the door to Celestia’s bedchambers opened with no more noise than a drifting butterfly, but Eb had been watching with narrowed eyes for the expected arrival. Princess Luna did not announce her presence, but instead peered around the doorframe with only one eye visible.

There was an exceedingly long pause. Then a blink.

After a time, Luna vanished back out into the other room.

It seemed suspicious, but perhaps she had simply been overwhelmed. Then again, it took quite a bit to simply whelm Luna. It was not until Eb saw the door glide open again and an object was eased into the room…

“A photo-graphic camera,” murmured Eb to himself. He could easily remember their visit at Sprung Sprocket’s store where a weedy-looking minotaur had gone on for far too long about aperture settings and focal lengths before Luna had purchased several of the devices for further experimentation.

Trapped beneath Celestia’s weight, Eb could not escape the relentless clicking of the device, nor the embarrassment when Luna began to remove photo-graphs and examine them.

“Entertain thyself another time,” managed Eb from his captivity. “Tis’ time for your duty, since your sister is unable. Go forth and lower the sun so that night may be brought forth.”

“I’ll get it in a minute,” murmured Celestia in Eb’s ear. “I’m comfortable.”

“Lying slug-a-bed with thy Guard. The shame.” Luna clucked her tongue as she approached the bed, but Eb could still see an element of tension in her eyes. “Doth this have anything to do with the magical display I did see this after noon when I was attempting to doze out of doors?”

“I’m sorry, Luna” came out almost as quickly as Eb’s “It was my fault, Your Highness.”

“No,” insisted Eb. “Mine is the fault and mine alone. The Elements of Harmony were used to quench the dark magic which still seethes inside of me. It is still there, but quiescent at the moment.”

“Then you bedded my sister,” started Luna with a poorly hidden smirk. “If this is the answer to keeping thy magic under control, we suppose a loan of our Guard to thee for snuggles no more than two or three times a week may be permitted. Although…”

She couldn’t do it. There was no way she should do it. But Princess Luna put the camera down on a table and slid into Celestia’s bed on Eb’s other side, making an alicorn sandwich out of him.

“It has been many years since we have taken a mortal lover,” purred Luna, cat-like. “Perhaps we should share him likewise, one for the morn and one for—”

* * *

Ebon Tide awoke with a start, still in Celestia’s bed but without the Princess of the Night in attendance. It took a few moments for him to recognize the low shadows on the wall as the sun nearing the end of its daily trek and in need of Celestia’s attendance, and another few panicked breaths to recognize something else that was going to get him executed if he was lucky. It really was not his fault, or at least he was trying to think of it that way while remembering ice-cold showers under a thawing waterfall.

The door to Celestia’s chambers popped open and Princess Luna strolled in, wearing a most mischievous smirk, and not carrying a camera as Eb’s most recent short and quite detailed nightmare had imagined.

“Good eve to you, dear sister. The time for your pleasant dreaming has passed. Are we ready to lower the sun so our night can reveal its radiant beauty?” Luna slowed as she approached Celestia’s gigantic bed and her puckish expression only grew as Eb struggled against the Sun’s strength to cover something quite near and dear to him. Whatever Luna was planning on saying afterward died in her mouth as she looked, then stared… Then promptly turned away from him with a giggle. “My word,” she managed after a few moments. “Well, that still appears to work correctly. Wood of the evening, we presume, and nothing related to our sister’s embrace?”

“Oh! Luna?” Princess Celestia sat up quickly in bed, although something that Eb would rather not have caught her eye, did. “Oh, my.”

Finally free of an imprisoning foreleg, Eb grabbed a pillow and froze, suddenly unwilling to press one of his Dread Soverign’s pristine pillows over his most delicate exposed area.

With a great deal of not-looking and shuffling, Princess and Guard exited opposite sides of the bed while Luna stood nearby and giggled until she was finally able to speak without laughing.

“I was worried, dear sister.” Luna brushed back a lock of her flowing mane while Eb struggled to regain his normal calm demeanor. “Our Guards did tell us of thy distraction, and… I visited thy dreams. It was most informative, and far easier than I expected.”

“Really?” gasped Eb while flat on his belly against the bedroom carpet, then slowed as a realization dawned. “Wait. Is this the first time since my return that you have walked the paths of the Dreaming?”

“That is beside the point,” said Luna, all levity being cast aside in one moment. “Our Guards spoke of thy behavior, dear sister, and we… were worried.”

“A brief relapse,” said Celestia heavily, as if the weight of the moon were weighing upon her shoulders. “We did not mean to… this,” she added, obviously at the same loss of words to describe what happened as Eb was at the moment. “Shall we finish our tasks for the evening and discuss what happened in the kitchens with a few slices of cake and some strawberry sherbet?”

“Pass,” said Luna just as quickly as she could. “We believe a few hours to clear our head out and about will help. Breakfast will wait until morn, where we can discuss things at our leisure. That is provided you feel well enough to continue this eve’s slumber without our Guard as a snuggle creature.”

“Agreed.” Celestia lit her horn in the close confines of the bedroom and the shadows began to move as the sun slid below the horizon outside. In perfect harmony, Luna raised the moon with her own dark magic and the golden glow of sun was replaced by night’s silver glory spilling in through the open bedroom window.

“Another thing I feared that would be forever lost,” said Luna almost under her breath. “And now it has returned also as if it had never departed.”

“Yet one more reason for us to appreciate you, Eb.” Celestia hid a smile as she heaved a deep breath and moved in the direction of her bathroom. “A cold shower before our bedtime snack, most certainly. Are you planning on visiting any more discotheques this evening, Luna?”

“Nay, I thought it would clear my head if I were to return to the old castle in the Everfree for a few hours.” Celestia froze in place as Luna continued, “We have heard many speculative tales about it, but they seem so extraordinary that they cannot be truth. The proof is in the tapioca, as they say, and some observations with mine own eyes shall put paid to any falsehoods.”

“The forest is… dangerous,” said Celestia carefully. “Not foolhardy to visit for our kind, but exhibit caution. Many of the creatures we knew before have become hostile, and other beasts have moved in. After our fight, something deep in the forest was broken. You are taking Eb, correct?”

“Certainly.” Luna eyed where Ebon Tide was still flat on his belly against the carpet. “With armor, of course.”

“Good.” Celestia let out a breath that it seemed she had been holding far too long. “Be careful with my sister, Warmaster. I need her.”

“She will be safe, Your Highness,” said Ebon Tide, bowing low. “You have my word.”

☾

The Royal Breakfast Nook had an open window for the impressive view of Canterlot spread out below, but it was supposed to be accessed by way of a nearby door. Two tousled and dirty individuals flew in through the window in rapid succession, scattering bits of broken twigs and leaf fragments across the pristine hardwood floor.

“Luna?” Princess Celestia blinked several times and finally settled on giving her tattered Warmaster a discouraging look. “I thought you were supposed to keep her away from trouble in the forest.”

“I don’t think there’s an ‘away’ in there, Your Highness,” said Eb, taking a few moments to discourage a clinging vine that seemed to have some sort of affectionate relationship with his left wing. After a bite to dislodge it and a quick trip to a nearby trash receptacle, he wiped some glittering pollen from his face and turned for the door. “I’ll just wait outside and make myself presentable while you two talk.”

“Nay,” snapped Celestia. One royal hoof pointed at a nearby chair next to a pair of very alert children, one batpony and one unicorn. “Sit.”

He did, although Luna took her own sweet time taking her own seat, mostly because she was still pulling quillboar spines out of her rump.

“Luna,” chided Celestia. “Not at the table.”

Princess Luna spat a quill into the same trash receptacle and nosed around for any more. “Tis not your tender rump, dear sister.”

It was obvious that Celestia wanted to retort in kind, but turned to Eb instead. “Your young friends have been telling me what they know of your condition. In a nutshell, nothing they have found or my student has found has been of any help. I presume your search of the Everfree ruins is likewise without productive result?”

“Regrettably.” Eb restrained the urge to comment about another possibility that came up during their trip. If he had died in defense of Princess Luna, his disgrace would be wiped away and his problem resolved. One of the Everfree’s hungry residents would have also gotten a meal out of it, so wins all around. It was still an option if he felt the nightmarish dark magic start to gain control, but a last resort to be certain with the poor example it would set for the quiet trusting children. “I even visited Doctor Hurwitz two days ago, and he was far less than helpful. He remarked that if he had not seen my progress, he would not believe I was the same pony that he treated a few months ago. He did refuse to take credit, which is a positive.”

“Unique for him, I’m afraid.” Celestia heaved a sigh, but Eb was quicker on the uptake and knew her well.

“Starswirl was worse,” said Eb quickly. “He at least considered you peers. Would it be possible to consult his shade?”

“I’ve tried,” admitted Celestia in a very small voice. “None of the Pillars of Equestria are willing to communicate from beyond the Shadowlands. It gives me scant hope that he may still be alive somewhere, but it is no solution for our problem.”

“Likewise, we have sought out the shade of Eclipse to ascertain the reason for his survival,” admitted Luna even quieter. “Several days have I slept within the Gardens where he is laid to rest, hoping to hear a murmur from beyond. The problems of today seem to demand solutions of today, I suppose.”

“So you’re going to die?” asked Peanut Brittle, just barely audible to Eb’s sensitive ears.

“As all mortals do,” intoned Eb. “It has always been inevitable, and we have skirted the edge of the precipice more than once.”

Pineapple Squares abruptly spoke up, his voice startlingly loud in the quiet room. “Father says our books always balance eventually, but it’s how we spend our life that counts.”

Small words from a small pony, but Eb needed that right now. His whole life had been spent serving the whims of two alicorns with his family patched into the few gaps remaining.

“If I have but little time left to spend, would best it be spent wisely. And perhaps the monkey will learn to sing,” he added, easing himself back onto his cushion and reaching for a flakey croissant to butter.

“I… didn’t think we had a monkey,” said Peanut Brittle, craning her neck so she could look at Pineapple Squares’ thick stack of notes.

“It’s not a real monkey,” said Eb. He retrieved a nearby jar of some sort of jam and began to apply it liberally to his croissant. “It is a metaphor from a fable. You see there was once a unicorn merchant who was captured by a barbarian camel tribe. He was about to be executed when he made a plea to the warlord. If his life would be spared, the merchant would teach the warlord’s pet monkey to sing arias. The warlord was amused and gave the merchant a deadline of one year to accomplish his task. Every day, the merchant tried to teach the monkey, who did nothing but screech and misbehave, as monkeys do. Week after week went by, and most of the warlord’s guards gave the merchant a wide berth so they would not have to listen to the screeching. One donkey remained to watch every day, and eventually he asked the merchant why he persisted in such an impossible task.

“It is quite simple, the merchant said. I have a year of life that I did not before. In that year, the warlord could die, the monkey could die, or I could die. Or perhaps the monkey will learn to sing.”

“Erinikus,” said Luna and Celestia simultaneously. “A real charmer, as I recall,” said Celestia by herself, although Luna looked merely pensive when she added, “Not his real name, of course. Pleasant lies told on a whim. I’m unsure if any of his tales had a basis in truth, much like the stories that your young friends have unearthed from long ago. I’m afraid we will not find a solution there, either.”

“So no Elements of Harmony again,” said Eb. “The hazard to your student and her friends is too great. There is no answer in the dead, nor stories of the mythical. Both of you are as useless as—” Ebon Tide cleared his throat and looked at the children, who took it entirely the wrong way.

“I can help!” blurted out Peanut Brittle. “I can!”

“No, you can’t,” snapped Eb entirely before his mind caught up with the magical rage in his gut. “No, wait. I didn’t mean that.” He made an attempt at catching Peanut before she darted out the window, but he might as well have tried to capture the air.

“We can help,” said Pineapple Squares. He remained seated at the breakfast table with an untouched piece of toast on his plate, but his eyes were locked onto Eb. “Nopony ever thinks we can do anything.”

“I do,” insisted Eb. “It’s just I’m frustrated and all this magical anger in me isn’t helping.”

“And you’ll die if it keeps growing.” Pineapple swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to die. Nopony does. Maybe we haven’t found what we can do to fix it yet, or maybe something hasn’t happened yet, or maybe it has and we just don’t see it. None of that can happen if you give up.”

“The child is correct,” said Luna. She floated a pair of pancakes over to her plate and began slathering them with butter. “Celestia never gave up on me.” The buttering process hesitated. “You didn’t give up on me, did you?”

“Never.” Celestia jerked her chin up from where she had been watching the floor and looked her sister directly in the eyes. “My confidence did waver at times, but I always knew you would return.”

“How?” asked Pineapple. When he did not get an answer from either alicorn, he added, “I mean somepony told you, right? How did they know? Somepony had to know first. It’s in the books of fables we found, so somepony had to write it. It can’t be just a fable somebody made up because it came true.”

“I can’t help you with that, little one. I heard it every night and every morning while I was recovering, from every one of my servants.”

“Who you said were Eclipse’s multitudinous offspring,” said Luna. “They knew, and the child is right. Somepony told them. Who?”

“I wish I knew.” Celestia retrieved her own pancake and began to apply boysenberry jam. “The memories are at the other end of a very long tunnel. Echoes drown it out, because there are so many other voices saying the same thing. It’s a side-effect of being an alicorn.”

“We tend to out-live our mistakes,” said Luna, waving a bit of pancake on her fork for emphasis. “Or overpower them, depending. Regrettably, that’s why I tried to ‘fix’ Warmaster Ebon Tide’s problem with dark magic. Or why Celestia tried to have him sent away to die alone.”

“Admittedly, yes.” Celestia hefted her own fork and dug into breakfast. “Before Nightmare Moon, at least. When the minotaur barbarians raided our borders, we foiled their raiding parties in the most humiliating fashion we could in order to unite them under one strong leader.”

“When he brought his armies together with all their siege engines and devices,” continued Luna while chewing, “we lit them up into a glorious bonfire and brought him to task in one swoop. Far easier than chasing tribes all over the country. Now his son sits in our castle as a hostage to his good behavior. Well, he did when I gave in to my darker self,” she added.

Celestia nodded. “Later, I found his descendants had crafted many of the devices of our era, from the trains that brought supplies to our mountain city to the elevators which you seemed to enjoy so much.”

“Just because I had to press all the buttons for several trips up and down the tower,” murmured Luna. “You still have not gotten me a ride in one of the griffon airships as you promised. But we have time.”

“So do I,” said Eb, feeling the crushing despair lift ever so slightly as he stood up. “Pineapple, if you will do me the honor of dining with Their Highnesses while I retrieve Lady Peanut Brittle from where she has fled. Since no obvious path lies in the direction of my salvation, what little time I have left I would deign spend with the two of you, for your presence calms my dark nature and stills the storm in my mind.”

* * *

The streets were filled with monsters, terrifying beasts and gaudy things that Ebon Tide had no words for. They were all small, relatively harmless individually but gathered in packs to hunt their static prey all across the entire city with their powerful cry rising up above the blowing wind and the rustling of dry leaves.

“Nightmare Night, what a fright, give us something sweet to bite.”

Eb was supposed to be a guardian tonight, but he was unsure what he was guarding the children against as they screeched and scurried about from door to door. Indigestion, perhaps. Headaches from the dazzling array of costumes most certainly.

Pineapple Squares had settled on a cardboard Royal Guard costume with a bright blue helmet frill while Peanut had transformed into some sort of tentacled monster with paper streamers and a considerable number of bright blue glittering eyes glued on apparently at random. Then there were other young ponies in the group he had ‘volunteered’ to guard, wearing far more elaborate guises than the simple black armor Eb had drawn from Guard stores. Some of the children had even tried to emulate heroes from his own era, from a rather chubby Smart Cookie in a plumed hat to a Starswirl the Bearded jingling along the path with his cloak constantly slipping to one side or another, and the fake beard nearly falling to the child’s knees. There were even windigo in a different group headed the other direction, with the smallest child practically invisible inside his all-encompassing sheet as he floated in pursuit of his tiny friends.

To be honest, the glowing eyes of the costume left Eb with a cold chill that did not fade for quite some time. Some of the disguises were just too real this evening.

As much as Eb had recovered his original energy and some more, as well as enough hair to actually get his mane trimmed down to his usual stubbly burr, his ability to keep up with a dozen cheerful small children was severely lacking. Guards could be led, but all he could do with Peanut and her companions was attempt his best to keep up, a task much more difficult than herding cats. At least he had some vague notion of their general direction and a bag of his own to carry, although the weight was beginning to drag. He had made the rather unfortunate declaration that he preferred apples and oranges instead of candy in bar form, and all of the small monsters had promptly organized a somewhat involuntary trade with him, so now his bag was bulging to the top with a fruity bounty that he would have taken as a magnificent gift when he was young.

“Mister Tide!” Peanut Brittle came zooming over to him, trailing a few paper tentacles that were starting to come loose. “Stuffy got stuck, really stuck in a rosebush and he’s gonna miss the big speech about Nightmare Moon over in the park!”

The words Nightmare Night and Nightmare Moon were far too close to be a coincidence, but Eb had not considered the story of Princess Luna’s betrayal to be a fair topic for a fall festival, or at least until now. He had been so busy with research into his past that he had not even checked the content of the celebration, and since Princess Luna had flown to Ponyville this evening to spend time with Twilight Sparkle and her friends, he had a lurking suspicion that she likewise was unaware of the connection.

Still, there did not seem to be any haste needed on his part, since he could always collect his information after the fact. Likewise, the evening had been quite safe and they were supposed to meet the childrens’ parents at the nearby park afterward, so there was no need to hold the majority of the children away from an anticipated speech while he untangled a single child from a bush.

“Peanut,” he commanded sternly. “Take Pineapple and gather the other children. If you can keep them together, I see no problem in making the relatively short journey to the park over yonder while I free your companion.”

There should have been some sort of confirmation from the child that she would stick with her flock for the short trip, but Peanut was gone in a blur by the time Eb reached the end of his sentence, and he could see the youthful stampede begin instants later. The missing child was trivial to find, since the bush in question kept flailing as Flufflestuff tried to find a way out that was not blocked by sharp thorns, and Eb tried to keep a frown off his face as he observed the situation.

“I’m sorry, Mister Tide,” said the small earth pony, a blue-green smudge in the shadows of the bush’s embrace. The squid-like head of his costume stuck out of the bush and wobbled whenever he struggled, and the tentacles trailing behind were tangled into each and every branch in his vicinity. “I had a NuttyOatie-Oat bar fall out of my bag and Stamin accidentally kicked it into the bush and when I went in—”

“I’ve seen worse,” said Ebon Tide before the child could get too worked up. “Let us disengage each portion of your costume individually, then pick up your candy. Perhaps we can make it to this speech of which Peanut spoke before the speaker completes his lecture.”

And Eb had actually seen worse in several military campaigns, because a pegasus falling from the sky tended to aim for bushes regardless of their thorn content. Most of those ponies had armor, however. Untwisting the ‘cool squid costume my mum made for me since she’s from the sea’ was a great deal more difficult than he expected, and there were still pieces of candy scattered on the ground when Stuffy grabbed his bag in his mouth and bolted for the park.

“C’mon Mister Tide. I don’t wanna get gobbled up.”

“Gobbled?” Eb took a moment to stuff his own bag of mostly apples into his overloaded saddlebags and followed at a good trot, although Stuffy was leaving him in the dust. Even picking up his own pace and spreading his wings to fly did not allow Eb to catch the small earth pony before he vanished into the dark park. He had just landed to take a longer look around at the park and to mentally curse himself for not having scouted out the area before…

…The screaming started.

In one hammering heartbeat, Eb found himself cast back in time to Nightmare Moon’s rise. The screams of children, the beating of distant wings, and the darkness pressed around him like a vice. He darted forward, staying on the ground to minimize his attack vectors, but came to a halt within a few rapid steps as screaming children were scattering everywhere, in the air and the ground. Battle-tested instincts fought against his ironclad will in order to keep from unleashing an attack on some disguise-clad child, which resulted mostly in him remaining absolutely motionless and observing the swirling chaos for an inordinate amount of time.

“Nightmare Moon can’t gobble you all up with all this candy to eat!” called out a powerful female voice, which preceded a swooping of a familiar dark figure down to a landing in front of Warmaster Ebon Tide.

Luna had given in to the dark power of Nightmare Moon before Eb.

It brought an icy chill up his spine and slowed his reactions as he crouched to spring, feeling his terrible mistake coming back to slug him in the belly again. Obviously, Luna’s trip to Ponyville was to disable the Elements of Harmony so she could return to Canterlot and…

There was nothing at all that came to mind after that, other than to spring forward and bring down the mad alicorn as quickly and gently as possible. Endless hours of sparring with his trainers had honed his combat skills to a fine edge, and the leap forward with extended forelegs went like a well-greased machine.

Except his target was shorter than Princess Luna, and her reaction to an oncoming attack was not to rear up and block his attack, but to collapse.

If there had not been a tree directly in his path, Eb would have been able to roll to his hooves and pivot to block the expected counter, but he got one wingtip caught on a tree branch and pinwheeled through dry leaves and broken twigs, leaving a trail of scattered apples and oranges from his open saddlebags until he found another rather solid tree to stop his tumble.

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh!” chattered Nightmare Moon as she scurried over to where Eb was trying to untangle his wings. “I’m so sorry! I saw you in the shadows and thought you were one of the border pickets to keep the children in the park and thought I’d scare you a bit and you scared the holy crabapples out of me and— Eclipse!” The young dark mare’s face lit up with an eager grin and she took a step back from Eb. “That is an awesome costume, sir. You even have the mane right.”

Given a few moments to observe without his nightmarish memories clouding his observation, Ebon Tide began to mentally kick himself for mistaking a teenaged pegasus with the costume horn for the real article. He could excuse a small part of his mistake out of only seeing Nightmare Moon at a distance and mostly from behind, but he could have killed a mortal young pegasus from his actions, and guilt kept his jaws locked tight before he could say something.

“I gotta go chase the kids some more, but I’ll be right back,” bubbled the young mare. “Stay here. Please.” Then she was gone like a breeze, but Eb could track her progress by her cackling laughter and the excited screams of the children she was pursuing.

22. Mea Culpa in Vino

The Last Nightguard
Mea Culpa in Vino

“Every flight begins with a fall, the crow said.”

No matter how high he flew into the chill air, Ebon Tide could feel the guilt follow him. He had nearly slain an innocent, he had struck his liege from behind, and he had sworn an oath to betray the Crown out of his own petty rage and vindictiveness. Oathbreaker, he deserved to be cast out, scoured from the ranks of the Guard, and left to die in the wilderness instead of in the gilded palace on the mountain where only a fort had once stood. Well, and one of Starswirl’s bizarre hideaways embedded into the heart of the mountain where he vanished whenever it fit his fancy.

He missed the old coot, wherever he was. Over a thousand years since he had last been seen and Eb was starting to believe he might be really dead for once. Never one to mince words or spells, Starswirl would be able to cure his magical disorder or kill him. Maybe both. Or turn him into a turnip.

Without shedding his armor, Eb could never have reached these rarified heights, and without Luna’s so-called gift of dragon wings, he never could have caught up with the child at this altitude. She was small for her age, with wings twice the size he expected. Eyes closed, legs drawn up near her body, and looking for all the world like some peculiar kite, she did not move a muscle other than the slight flexing of her wings to catch every single updraft. Three days she had been aloft, despite the best efforts of the Guard and families alike to reach her. Three days since a wildstorm out of the Everfree swept across Canterlot and bore her up. Three days with neither food nor water, and if Eb was any judge of her condition, she would never recover her mind.

This close to the ragged edge of his endurance, Eb could not call out to the comatose child, but he could edge ever so carefully under her and bite down on the snapped rope tether her relatives had been using to allow the child access to the sky without danger, or at least until it had parted under the strain. At first, he did not think his weight would be sufficient to lower her glide to a more reasonable altitude, but ever so slowly he could feel the air thicken until he could breathe almost normally again.

“You will be safe, child,” he said through the rope in his teeth. “Lean upon me and permit my assistance. There is naught to fear as long as I am here with you. Fold thy wings.”

Below, he could see the family of the child circling at the top of their ability, growing ever larger as he descended with his terrified burden. Their presence only seemed to make the child even more frightened as she spread her broad wings to ascend again, yanking on the rope that he was holding onto so firmly.

“Calm thyself,” he snapped, trying not to lose his grip while talking. “I swear by the moon and stars, thou art the most stubborn of children other than Luna. Yes, Luna,” he added as the child’s trembling slowed. “Thy gifts are from her will. Do not repay her generosity by foolish actions. If you will not listen to my voice, then certainly you shall listen to hers.”

The collection of batponies circling below him passed by as Eb continued his descent, giving the relatives who approached him with the intent of taking his burden a sharp, vicious look that scattered them like quail. The thicker air of Canterlot was a relief to his stressed wings, but he did not carry the child to the family or clan as the following batponies seemed to expect, or to the palace as he had first considered. Instead, he curved his path in the direction of the Gardens, and a large dark shadow resting between the silent stones.

By the time Eb landed beside the oldest gravestone, the child on his back had pulled her huge wings around herself and was quite near to falling off, despite his broad shoulders. He really did not know why he was bringing the mind-damaged child to a mind-damaged princess, but it seemed a good idea at the time, as long as he did not think too much about it. The sight of Luna comfortably stretched out on the dry grass with little bits of frost forming around her in the chill air did little to reassure himself about this being a good idea, but he stopped and took a deep breath anyway.

“Your Highness,” said Eb quietly. “Your subject requires an audience.”

“We are busy,” said Luna without opening her eyes.

“We shall wait.” Behind him, the silent forms of batponies settled down into the dry grass of the graveyard like shadows, an unseen horde of darkness like the flood of Luna’s monsters that he had faced so long ago. Only these were meek and subservient to their dark mistress, waiting patiently for a sign while Eb eased the child off his back and placed her before him much like a sacrifice. He remained within touching distance so the child would know she was not alone, keeping one hoof resting gently on the overly large shoulders of the young filly where powerful muscles twitched and jumped from fatigue.

The sensation of landing pegasi behind Eb continued for far, far longer than he expected. More than just her family or clan, it seemed as if an entire world of dark creatures pressed together in silence were all looking at him from behind. It started to build an intolerable pressure in his mind until he forced himself to glance over his shoulder at the myriad of golden eyes looking back at him.

“Now is not the time,” said Ebon Tide to the dark mass of batponies. “There will be a time, I promise. For now, we must tend to the needs of a child.”

He really expected some sort of argument, or a few stragglers. The entire collection of dark wings and bodies fading away into the night like an ebon tide was a shock, leaving only the child and Luna, who was most certainly not pretending to sleep any more.

“That was most unexpected,” said Luna, arising from her so-called slumber and approaching the quiet child. “When we set you upon this task, we expected you to return with one of our subjects, not all of them at once.”

“They deserve an explanation for their condition,” said Eb. “It has been long-delayed, but I trust it will occur.”

It was less of a question than a statement, a shocking assertion of Ebon Tide’s questionable authority, but Princess Luna nodded regardless. “In due time. I pledge my word upon it. Now, what of the child?”

As she looked down at the trembling young batpony, Eb could not remove his reassuring hoof from her shoulder, but gently rubbed the cramping muscles there instead. Something deep inside him forced words out of his mouth despite his wish to remain silent. “She needed you.”

Eb swallowed back a curse and looked up, capturing Luna’s eyes when she glanced at him. “Much as Princess Celestia’s student rose to the task of saving you in her stead, it was my task to rise to a rescue in your place. She did not fear your dread presence. It was your name that calmed her flight. It is your presence which makes her breathe easily now. As much as you fear the shadow that Nightmare Moon casts upon your subjects, you should know by now that some ponies prefer your shade. You are needed. And I am not.”

“All of our little ponies are needed.” Luna looked down and stroked the child’s face where a terrible tension had just begun to ease. “This one dreams of a higher place to which she is barred. Should I crush her dreams or nurture them? For the path which she seeks to climb is your path, rugged and filled with pain. To our last breath, to the last drop of blood in our bodies, to the end of our days we shall serve thee. The words have changed in the interim, but the meaning goes beyond simple words, as you know too well. So do I.”

Simple words or not, there was no response he could make to the Princess of the Night.

“In dreams, we enter a world of our own making,” said Luna, bent over the child to nuzzle at one fuzzy ear. “Dread or desire, joy or tragedy, it is ours to create. You of all ponies made me recognize that when I began to walk the Dreamlands again. Without your influence, I would still be a cowering shadow beneath my sister’s light, unwilling to let my own light show. Who knows what this child will be able to accomplish in her life unless we nurture her dreams. She shall swim in the deepest ocean or fly above the highest cloud in search of her destiny, and my will shall guide her. Now, your service to us this eve is at an end. We shall take this child to one who is skilled at healing wounds of the mind and sit with her until she is well enough to return to her loved ones.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” Eb bowed. “I shall go to the hospital and have one of the nurses prepare a bed.”

“Nay.” Luna hefted the child in her magic and held her close before starting to walk, one slow step at a time. “We shall take her to Celestia.”

Eb made to respond, looked up at the moon and the hour it represented, then turned back with a short nod.

“I shall have the servants prepare coffee, then. Much coffee.”

* * *

The Hole was everything Eb expected and more. A proper bar had darkened timbers overhead, the rustle of soiled rushes underhoof, and a sharp scent of spoiled beer that closed off the nose to any lesser odor. More than simple beer and ale were served here, though. A pair of Diamond Dogs were lapping up some strange orange liquid at a corner table, a parrot was pecking absently at a bowl of seed gruel, and three Abasinians were having a hissing discussion over a game of darts while guzzling what appeared to be milk from a generous tankard at their table.

And then there were his sparring partners.

Greta had a pale lager that was the house special, and incidentally half price today, while Pansy was nursing a spring water under the excuse that he really was not off duty as long as Eb was in the vicinity. Tar held a tankard that could have drowned most ponies and was well on his way to the bottom, which baffled Eb to no end how he could drink like that and never slur a word. Crimson had scoffed at mere pony beverages and was happily slurping something nasty and smoking that she occasionally had to chew chunks from between drinks, and left smoldering rings on the table whenever she put the stone mug down.

Eb had decided on beer, a thick dark brew that reminded him of home only without the insects and dirt, and to help him with the unwelcome task of informing his almost-friends about his impending demise.

“Companions,” he managed, “I have called you here today for a solemn announcement.”

“You’re dying,” said Greta. “We know that. Have you mentioned us in your will?”

“Wait. How do you know?” asked Eb, completely taken off guard

“We work for the diplomatic delegation from each of our races,” said Tar. He took a deep swig from his huge tankard and slammed it down on the table. “We know things. Besides, everybody spies on everybody else here.”

“If Grandpa Gruff expects a report, I expect to get paid,” said Greta. “This spy stuff is for the birds.”

“Besides,” added Tar, “your little friends have been all over Canterlot asking about your ancestors. They’re really worried about you. So, how long do you think you have?”

It irked Eb to be cut off like this. He had a whole speech planned out with Lightning, the young mare who had taken on the role of Nightmare Moon for the children. They had spent several days with Peanut and Pineapple, exploring her knowledge of the past. The young mare had been so eager to help, viewing Eb as her own personal history project, that she had even dragged the shy Pansy into helping research.

They made interesting pairs, large and quiet paired up against tall and curious, small and studious paired up against smaller and talkative. The five of them had even gotten Princess Cadence involved in the project, although she was of little help other than to admit she could feel the dark magic in Eb’s gut and confirm that it was growing more powerful.

Eventually they had come to the conclusion that Eclipse had been one studly batwinged pegasus with a habit of avoiding credit for his accomplishments like a duck shed water, but gained no insight into how any of the batponies of that age had survived the removal of Nightmare Moon’s magic.

He shook his head, trying to concentrate on his own problem instead of playing matchmaker with Guards and children. “I do not believe I will see Hearth’s Warming,” said Eb carefully. “Before then, the dark magic will take me over and I will need to be…”

“Killed,” said Crimson, who had been unusually quiet this evening, even for a dragon.

“Or something similar,” said Eb. “Princess Celestia says she may be able to turn me to stone with the right spell, but I refused because I do not think it is worth the risk. If it backfires, she could be harmed. Same for the Elements of Harmony,” he added before Tar could speak. “They have been tried and failed. And Tartarus might make me stronger, so I dare not be imprisoned there. A hundred alternatives have been explored and they all fail one test or another.”

“So no gifts,” said Greta. “Bummer.”

“Actually…” The dragon reached under the table and removed a small bag very carefully. Unwrapping the contents, she placed it onto the center of the table and added, “For you.”

Eb knew what the box was, he just had no idea why it was sitting there, faded and scratched with the bare ghost of a calla lily engraved in the lid. His heart raced while he tried his best to keep a straight face, but a trickle of sweat began to work its way down his forehead. He could not have been more stunned if his long-dead wife had strode into the bar, and he could not make a coherent thought break through the whirl of emotions that filled his chest to breaking and extinguished the fire of Luna’s dark magic like a dose of water. He was barely able to form a few words, and those were almost too quiet to hear in the noisy bar.

“What is it?”

Crimson shrugged. “Uncle Torch said to give it to you right after the first Nightmare Night after Luna’s return.”

“Give,” said Eb in an effort not to think about the meaning behind the plain wooden box that was driving his mind into an incoherent froth of confusion. “Dragons know that word?”

With another shrug, Crimson raised her bubbling mug and took a sip. “Don’t look at me. He said it wasn’t his, and it wasn’t mine, and that if I didn’t give it to you, he’d find me and pound it out of me.”

“Ah,” said Eb. He took a welcome breath and added, “The dragon-form of the word.”

“Yeah, right.” Crimson peered at the simple wooden box. “So what is it?”

“It’s mine,” said Eb numbly. “It’s the betrothal gift I gave to my wife over a thousand years ago. It holds a lock of our manes, and a lock of mane from each of our foals. After she died, I told my children to place in my grave when I joined her, so why is it here?”

“It is quite a unique antique,” said Tar after finishing off his ale and signaling the barmare for another. “A thousand-year-old artifact from the time of your ancestors. Do you think it holds the secret to your survival?”

“Oh, don’t look at us that way,” scoffed Greta. “After you and your little friends have been sniffing around like grandma after a lost bit, it’s about time we got to see what’s going on. Besides, it clunked when Crimson gave it to you, so there’s something inside that isn’t hair. Gonna open it?”

“I don’t think—” started Eb, only to pause when Tar pushed his fresh tankard to one side and produced a slim knife, which looked almost like a toy in his broad hands.

“Give it here,” he rumbled. “You’d probably break something getting it open. I can see glue from here, and it’s going to take a gentle touch to keep from splitting the wood,” he added with a quelling look at Crimson, who had shifted forward and was in the process of reaching out with extended claws.

Eb passed the fragile wooden box over without much thought. Most of his mind was a thousand years back, picturing his wife and his family as they were back then. His girls finally beginning to laugh again after Calla had passed into the Shadowlands. The way that they both had made rather oblique references to the box a few weeks before he had been imprisoned, implying there would be additional members to the family if certain obstinate colts would allow common sense to percolate through their thick skulls. Neither of them could have possibly known that he was going to return from the moon, and certainly would not have enlisted the Dragonlord of all creatures to pass him a message from the past.

They were questions he could not answer without the contents of the box, and forced himself to sit motionless while the big minotaur manipulated the thin knife with practiced ease.

“Fair crafting,” he murmured as he worked. “Made it yourself, I presume? Can tell because of the carving. You wouldn’t pay nobody to make a box like this without it looking a lot better, but I heard of pony betrothal boxes before. Mark of love and all that stuff you don’t find by purchasing it off no shelf anywhere. A box with no locks and no key, to hold between me and thee. Pegasus hoof glue lasts forever. Ah, there we go,” he added as the box gave off a quiet pop and a squeak from ancient hinges.

There was no mane hair inside, only a loose sheet of gold that filled the entire bottom of the box, with two words inscribed so deeply on it that he could see through each of the letters.

Trust Luna

23. Circles

The Last Nightguard
Circles

“Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle.”
— Carol

Stubborn went right down into Ebon Tide’s bones, a trait that his wife had often compared to an alicorn without a horn. Likewise, the most difficult thing in the world was to trust Princess Luna, who had betrayed all of Equestria, her sister, and Ebon Tide all at the same time. The metaphorical immobile object would seem like a feather to the way Eb felt right now, standing outside of the Royal Breakfast Nook with the frail box in his saddlebag and trying to think of words.

Eventually, he just walked in to where the Royal Sisters were sitting, placed the box upon the table, and said, “Here.”

Both alicorns looked puzzled, but when Celestia lit up her horn to pick up the box, Eb startled himself by saying, “No.”

“No?” echoed Celestia, who appeared to be quite unused to the word being used on her instead of by her.

“It is thy sister’s conundrum.” Eb gave the box a nudge in Luna’s direction and remained silent while she opened it and looked inside. After a time, Luna closed the lid and gave the wooden box a good, long examination.

“A betrothal box,” she said flatly with the distracted expression of somepony with several heads worth of thought.

Celestia gasped and turned on Eb so quickly it seemed as if she had merely blinked. “Warmaster!”

“It’s not for her!” blurted out Eb as the obvious miscommunication spread out across his mind in terrifying detail. “That is my wife’s, given unto Dragonlord Torch a thousand years ago with instructions to pass it on to me after your sister was freed and the first Nightmare Night festivities after that occasion were concluded.”

“That was several weeks ago,” said Celestia as she showed no signs of returning to her comfortable seated position.

“I spent the last week with White Lightning and the researchers of her historical society, trying to make sense of it,” admitted Eb. “And my sparring group. Crimson claims Dragonlord Torch gave it to her with instructions to pass it along to me but nothing else. And no, I haven’t a clue why.”

“Luna?” asked Princess Celestia, giving her sister a sideways look.

“It is indeed a betrothal box of our era,” she admitted, holding it in her magic and examining the golden sheet inside. There was something obviously disconcerting to the younger alicorn, and she closed the lid ever so carefully as if she were dealing with an eggshell. “We have been called upon to bless several during our reign, mostly from young Guards who are concerned about what they are getting into. I do not recall this one, though.”

“We did not need your blessing,” said Eb rapidly. “There was no doubt in our minds that needed to be assuaged.”

“Only fools and alicorns ignore their doubts,” said Luna thoughtfully. “Sometimes both. Go spend your day with the children. We have research to do.”

She stood without another word and walked from the room, the frail wooden box bobbing along in her wake.

* * *

House Honor was busy this morning, both with nocturnal ponies getting ready for bed and diurnal ponies in the family awakening to begin their day. He had missed actually eating breakfast at the Royal Table, so Eb made no complaints when Flutter slipped a full plate of pancakes onto the table for him as well as a full pitcher of syrup.

All he really needed was some butter and a brief drizzle of the sugary topping, unlike any of the children at the table who were rather indulgent with their portions. Manners had changed since his day, and he had gotten quite familiar with forks and spoons even though all he wanted to do was drop muzzle-first into the pancakes and lick the plate afterward.

The table was more occupied than normal with Peanut’s younger brother Riptide in attendance, trying his best to impress table manners on his older sister while Pea Gravel tried to keep the two siblings apart.

“Guys!” protested Gravel. “We have a guest!”

“Where?” asked Pineapple Squares, turning around in his chair to the point where his flaxen mane nearly dropped into the lake of syrup on his plate. “Oh! Sorry, Mister Tide.”

“It is good to be considered one of the family instead of an interloper,” admitted Eb. “It makes my remaining time far more pleasant.” He took a few moments to just breathe in the relatively thick air of Canterlot and asked, “What of the child which I rescued several weeks past?”

“Oh, she—”

Gravel put a hoof over Peanut’s sticky mouth just an instant before her brother Riptide managed the feat.

“We’re not supposed to talk about it,” Gravel said quietly. “She’s recovering, but has to stay indoors with all the windows covered. She’s afraid of the sky now.”

A wave of shudders passed through all the young pegasus children at the table, both the feathered and batwinged types. Being afraid to fly was one of the unspoken terrors of their kind, much like a unicorn with a broken horn or an earth pony who could not feel the ebb and flow of growing magic beneath their hooves.

His own condition was no secret to the young ponies, no matter if they were dark and batwinged or various colors and races. A secret in a batpony’s home was a secret only as long as it took to blink, and there were times Eb thought their effective rumor mill was able to go back in time and retrieve an observation before the event had even occurred.

“You’re awfully gloomy this morning,” said Pineapple. “I mean compared to your normal gloom. Can we help?”

Instinct drove Eb to an instant negative response, but experience made him nod instead and begin to tell the children about his unexpected gift from the past. They all followed along with fascinated eyes and a lack of awkward questions until he reached the end where Luna walked away with the betrothal box.

“I bet it’s a key to a secret potion that will cure you,” said Riptide.

“Potions don’t last a thousand years,” scoffed Gravel.

“It could be a recipe for a potion,” said Peanut. “We could find all the ingredients and cook it up in the kitchen.”

“It just said trust Luna, not a whole bunch of ingredients,” said Riptide. “Besides, Mama says you’re not allowed in the kitchen until next moon.”

“Maybe it just means Mister Tide should trust Luna,” said Pineapple thoughtfully. “I mean if whoever it was sent a message a thousand years into the future, it would have to be as simple as possible so it could not be misinterpreted.”

“That’s dumb,” said Riptide. “If I was going to send a letter to the future, it would tell all about what I wanted to say. It’d have to be three pages at least. Double-spaced,” he added.

“They should have signed it at least,” said Gravel.

“Unless it’s Starswirl the Bearded,” said Pineapple in a rush. “We’ve read some of his earlier spells. They’re as twisted as a peppermint stick. He’s got a whole wing in the library that’s been sealed off because students kept sneaking in there and getting turned inside-out or speaking only in iambic pentameter for a year. Princess Celestia didn’t even let her own student in there, ever.”

“Princess Celestia said that Starswirl is still missing from before Nightmare Moon’s time,” said Eb, trying his best not to squash the young pony’s enthusiasm. “He scarcely could have stolen my family’s heirloom before, because I would have noticed. I kept it on my bedroom table ever since she passed,” he added, feeling a wave of remorse sweep over him, tempered by the actual presence of his memories from their time together. “It is so difficult for me to trust again.”

“You trust us, don’t you, Mister Tide?” Peanut’s golden eyes calmed the dark turmoil in his gut and left a ray of moonlight into his soul nearly as much as the untempered sense of trust he got from the faces of the rest of his youthful breakfast companions.

“I could do none other,” admitted Eb. “Now, I shall retire to your House library to review the documents of that era which we have gathered. Perhaps I shall gainsay some nugget of truth which has avoided us to this time.”

“Luna will find an answer,” said Peanut. “You have to trust her as much as we do.”

“Answer or not, our fate is clear,” said Eb just as plainly as he could. “We all die. It may be tonight, or sometime tomorrow, but no matter how much effort you put forth, our fate is certain. Trusting in you has taught me a far greater lesson. What matters is how we live.”

Several hours later as Eb slipped into slumber in one of the obscenely comfortable library chairs, he could still hear her voice just as plain as moonlight. The most difficult thing in the world was to trust where there was no understanding. The entire civilized world had come together after Celestia’s incapacitation, nations defeated by force of arms and scattered hill tribes gathered together in fear of attack, all combining into a unified nation in a way that his ancient mind still could not fully fathom. Where had the thoughts come from for the revised laws that bound together dissimilar races instead of tearing them apart? What source of inspiration had brought forth the mechanical marvels which flooded this world? Who could possibly have brought warring factions to the negotiation table, made agreements that stood up against the test of time, and not have been recognized for the achievement?

And far more important, who had used the Dragonlord to send him a cryptic letter from the past?

* * *

Several days passed like treacle flowing in winter. It gave Ebon Tide time to explore places he had been avoiding, even to the point of visiting Starswirl the Bearded’s archives on the back side of Canterlot, drilled into the living rock of the Canterhorn and generally ignored by the ages since. Two very uncommunicative Guards stood watch over the only known entrance, unwilling to allow him entry even if Eb would be foolish enough to walk into the old coot’s laboratories uninvited. There were worse things than dying of an overabundance of dark magic, after all.

During the long Nights, Eb glided over the ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters in the middle of the Everfree forest, looking to see if there were some trick of nature or hidden memory that would free him from his curse without endangering others. Every time he visited, Pansy flew above and behind him, as expected. Occasionally, Eb considered diving into the dark forest to fight one of the lumbering monsters, but knowing his escort’s good nature, Eb did not want to get anypony else killed during an attempt to die honorably in combat instead of his current dishonorable fate.

Other days he spent basking in the sun in the Gardens, lurking near the tombs of Eclipse and his wives. Of course there was no response from the dead, although he did frighten several young lovers making pilgrimages to the stones in search of answers to their own problems of love and fertility.

There was one task which he was resisting, but eventually gave in to the need. It took few questions to discover the House of the child he had plucked from the sky, and fewer steps to find their residence, since it was within the same large block of pegasus apartments.

Thankfully, he did not have to explain himself when he showed up at their door unannounced. This House was far more homogeneous and crowded than House Glory and House Honor, with a practical sea of membranous wings and golden eyes inside when the door was opened.

They all looked at him for a brief instant, then started to move until a clear pathway opened up leading further into the maze of rooms. Their reaction was more than a little unexpected, making Eb feel like Princess Luna had somehow taken over his body, and he reacted by trying to comport himself in the same fashion, moving forward slowly with acknowledgment of the elderly retired stallions and multiple mares of all ages surrounding him.

“This way,” said a rather older batpony mare whose coat had begun to turn silver with age. She led him into a corridor and walked alongside before she added, “I am the child’s grandmother Agapanthus. We have been expecting you.”

Eb was unsure how to respond since he had not really been expecting to visit, so he settled for a quiet nod of his head.

“My sisters and I told her this was a bad idea,” continued Agapanthus in a low voice. “A young mare like her in the Royal Guard. It’s ridiculous.”

It was a rather odd concept for Warmaster Ebon Tide, but with the amount of new things Eb had been exposed to and the knowledge of just how dangerous an angry mare was, the concept of having them in the Royal Guard was not such an impossibility to him. Once the armor went on, it was rather difficult to pick out the differences anyway.

Taking his silence as encouragement, Agapanthus continued with growing sincerity. “Her mother would not listen. Letting a young filly like that train in combat of all things with the family Guards at all hours of the night and day, coming back with bruises and cuts, and even a pretend set of their armor for the disgraceful activity. Then taking her out to fly! With wings that large, she could never control them. That’s why we ordered her to be kept in the house, but her mother just had to flaunt our rules. Ridiculous!”

Eb was getting rather tired of that word, but he grunted anyway while walking.

“Of course we tried to put a stop to it,” continued the old mare. “She’s old enough to be wed to another House even if she’s smaller than average. After a husband and a few foals, she’ll forget all about this insane idea. You don’t see Princess Celestia out roughhousing with the stallions, do you?”

Caught mentally adjusting his age expectations for the small filly upwards from ‘child’ to ‘prospective mother’ by a few years, Eb was unable to properly respond with his personal experience of getting his flank handed to him in personal combat by the Princesses of the Sun and Moon. Repeatedly. The size difference was comparable, and if the smallish filly had the courage to face off against experienced Guards several times her size repeatedly as well, she had more courage than most of his era’s compatriots who viewed Eb’s repeated dirt-eating experiences as a special form of insanity.

“Thought so,” said Agapanthus smugly. “Do not temper your words, Warmaster. It will take a large hammer to get through her thick skull. She’s as stubborn as her mother.”

Eb could certainly tell that characteristic also came from one more branch up the family tree. If he was guessing correctly, the whole House was clinging to the past, or at least what they considered the good parts of the past. Undoubtedly they all had been properly vaccinated against the whole spectrum of diseases Eb was grateful to see become extinct, and their foalbirth was attended by physicians and fascinating equipment like the side-trip that Princess Cadenza had taken them on to the hospital maternity wing. Likewise, they lived in a modern building with hot showers and windows to close against the rain rather than stomping out a fresh cloud every week for shelter as the old one decayed.

As they walked down the hallway, they had to duck under a series of blankets that had been pinned up to block the light and sound from the rest of the House’s rooms, then came to a sturdy door which looked as if it once concealed a storage room of some sort. Agapanthus did not make any of the traditional requests for entry by knocking or calling out, but simply opened the door and stepped inside.

“Child,” she said to a middle-aged mare who appeared to be lying next to an unoccupied cot in the gloom of the unlit room. “Warmaster Tide is here to talk some sense into you and your daughter, as we requested.”

Eb had not been requested, but he could easily see how a mare with this much arrogance would send one of her relatives to him with a message and naturally assume it had been delivered. The dark magic in his belly had made Eb into a mobile frightening experience such that he had actually startled drill instructors at the Royal Academy, and had been invited to lead several batches of their new recruits in various strenuous educational activities. If indeed there was some traumatized batpony Guard out there with a message for him, the least he could do was carry out the unrequested request the best he could.

“I will speak to the child alone,” said Eb before he could stop himself. It warranted some further explanation so he added, “Whatever decision she makes after our discussion is hers, and none other. Leave.”

“But—” managed Agapanthus before Eb turned slightly and looked at her. Behind the grandmother, the mother seemed to be having some sort of fit that Eb did not recognize at first, but eventually managed to realize she was smothering a laugh that brought a ray of moonlight to the ordeal she had been through. Undoubtedly, the mother had clashed with her mother far more than this once, and to see the old mare brought up cold like this was a pleasure she would secretly treasure for many years.

“She will hear me. Whether she listens is up to her,” said Eb. “Go.”

They went.

Ebon Tide had some experience with frightened young mares hiding under their beds. His own daughters never had anything happen quite to this scale, of course, and none who had expressed any interest in becoming Royal Guards. Even if the experience was terribly dated in this modern age, it was still useful, and Eb lowered himself to the floor with the faint clunk of armor.

In this kind of gloom with only one small bedroom light to banish the shadows, the old Ebon Tide would have been completely blind. As it was, Eb could barely see the young mare curled up nearly into a ball with those magnificent huge wings wrapped all the way around her like some sort of pony burrito.

Ignoring the faint growl of his insatiable appetite for the fare offered by various Canterlot street vendors, Eb concentrated on his words, or more correctly, a lack of words. Saying the wrong thing to a traumatized soldier could send them off into bad places, and to do such to a young mare would be far more damaging. Eventually the silence stretched on to long for him and he decided establishing his authority would be the best first step.

“I am Warmaster Ebon Tide, and I speak for the Princess of the Moon in matters military. Her voice is my voice, and my words hers.”

That was all he had. He had addressed battered veterans with mortal wounds and mourning widows, as well as his own daughters when they experienced various disasters of teenaged years, but he had never considered any kind of discussion that merged the two and he was plunging rapidly into unexplored territory.

“Your grandmother expects me to utter wise words that will discourage you from the same path I walked,” continued Eb without really thinking. “You probably expect that I will resist her entreaty and allow you to pursue your heart’s desire of becoming a Guard.” He lowered his voice due to the faint scuffling of eavesdropping mares on the other side of the bedroom door. “I’m afraid both of you will be terribly disappointed.”

That got a slow reshuffling of the child’s huge wings so one yellow eye could peer out from behind her barrier against the world. The eye blinked once, darted back and forth as if to survey the room for quiet observers, then vanished behind the encompassing wings again.

“I’ve given this speech before,” admitted Eb still very quiet so he would not be overheard by nosy relatives. “Young colts not even out of pinfeathers and daring young stallions out to impress mares. They see the glory and honor of the position without everything that goes with it. They don’t realize that taking the Iuramentum e sangui is a pledge for life. Well, it used to be.” A cold chill went up Eb’s back as he thought of his era. “So many young stallions paid that oath with their own blood. We live so they live. We die so they live. I can’t feed another young life into that monster. Give it up.”

The child’s head remained stuck out from under her enormous wings just far enough for him to see her red-tinged lilac mane, cropped nearly flat against her head and something that her relatives had probably fussed over to no end. All of those mares had longer violet manes, done up in specific curls or waves that would be demolished by a few hours in armor. There was a faint negative shake of the concealed head that Eb would not normally have been able to see in the gloomy room except he was watching very closely.

“I mean it,” repeated Eb quietly.

The brief and muffled head-shake repeated.

“Stubborn as Luna,” muttered Eb.

This time the young mare nodded.

The anger in his gut bubbled and fumed in frustration, making him hold back his words until they leaked out under pressure, spat as quietly as he could manage. “Sometimes the past needs to die. Let the present build their own myths around it. They don’t want to see the blood and the mud, the backstabbing and cheating and lying. They want to see the statues, the days of honor, the speeches. Banners and trumpets. Hacking your lungs out from a disease or having your leg chopped off because of gangrene is the reality of my service. We were at war with… Oh, four or five different races at the time, some of whom I’ve seen strolling around the city, so at least the war is over now. Let it stay over. Keep the bodies buried where they belong. Put down your shovel, young one. You do not know what you are going to dig up.”

The bundle of wings shuddered, and Eb was half-tempted to walk out of the House right now except for one small thing.

Her.

“I don’t even know your name,” he murmured. “It doesn’t matter, I suppose, even if you are a relative. Oh, yes,” Eb added as the small mare’s shuddering stopped for a moment. “I had two little fillies probably close around your age, if your grandmother’s plotting to get you mated is correct. I never even thought about picking out a stallion for either of them, but they were quite busy picking out their own, I suppose. With a thousand years passing and all the mixing of the blood that seems to have become so common, you may be a distant relative. Half the city is probably a distant relative.”

That did not seem to help. Quite probably she was not too keen on being married off to produce foals either. At her size, she was probably safer in the Guard than trying to carry a foal to term.

“Do you know what a Lifeguard is?” he asked out of impulse. “Not the dashing youngsters we saw around the Canterlot waterpark. The origin of the word from my era. Close companions of Their Highnesses who were the last line of defense, willing to give their lives to stop an unexpected attack. Not just Guards, either. The Royal Factotum were twin sisters who… well, they had an indomitable will. Apprentices to Starswirl, although briefly. They terrified any stallion who tried to get close. They’re all dead and gone now. I’m all that’s left, and when I am gone in a moon or two…”

The young mare’s nose emerged from behind her tented wings, then after a time her eyes peered out, all huge and terrified but still looking at him with the beginnings of tears welling up in those dark recesses.

“I knew what I was getting into when I swore the oath,” said Eb. “Generally. Not this, of course. Others came after me and others will come after me again. It is the way of mortals in service to them.”

“She needs you,” said a very small muffled voice.

“I look like this because she needed me to kill her,” admitted Eb just as quietly and calmly as he could manage. “Otherwise I would have died in the hospital, plugged into machines and filled with drugs. I swore an oath to protect her and I broke that oath. I swore another oath to kill her and I broke that one too. Oathbreaker twice over, so when I am gone her life will be entrusted to far more worthy stallions.”

“Me,” said the voice again in a near-squeak.

Eb opened his mouth to snap a response and paused. There had been so many things in this new world that turned his head upside-down with change that a reversal of roles might be warranted. “She hath been guarded by stallions for ages,” he mused under his breath. “Our advice doth bounce off her noggin like pebbles on a mountain, and yet she listened to her Factotum, although slightly. No,” he growled to himself. “I will not see a mare put into the destructive shackles of duty. We protect, and the best protection I can offer you is to deny—”

The sight of the young mare’s marked flank made an entire world of failure open up before Ebon Tide, and he teetered upon the brink of said abyss. Three peaked ‘V’ marks of geese in high flight, signifying her ability to soar to extreme heights, a mark that clashed dramatically with her exhibited terror of the outside sky. To have such a gift and be blocked from its use out of fear was a terrible injustice which he had seen before. Stratiform had been a promising young initiate thrown into a battle with griffon raiders far too early in his training. The last Eb had seen of the young stallion was in a dismal darkstone mine where he was willingly spending the rest of his life in a dirty hole without Sun or Moon. The memory gave Eb a good, long look at the mistakes he had made and the mistake he nearly fell into again, like some drunk fool out in the night falling into a well.

“I decided to turn down Nightmare Moon’s tempting offer,” he started, still deathly quiet so the faint creaking of eavesdropping mares outside the bedroom door would remain ignorant of his words. “That decision was mine and none other. In my insanity, I swore to slay the Princess I had sworn to protect. That decision I have taken as mine own also. The Sisters made all my decisions after that, and it burned far more than the fel magic that I carry in my belly. My old armor is dust now, but I am chained to the old nags by an oath far stronger than steel. Were I restored to my full health and vigor, I would remain at their side regardless of their actions until age and infirmity takes me away. You have your whole life ahead of you. Do not chain yourself to her in my place. Grow and live. Fall in love. Grasp life by the neck and tear—”

Eb grimaced and took a deep, pained breath. “Nay, that is the fel magic within my belly speaking. Soon it will overcome me and I will be killed before I can become a threat. But this is about you, not me. Your grandmother states that you desire to join the Sacred Band… that was the name in my era, mostly discarded,” he added. “She claims this is your heart’s desire. That you have been training with your relatives within the Guard regardless of the danger, practicing that which she disdains. She does not wish you to follow that path, and sent me to discourage you. Know that no matter your desire, you will not cross the threshold of the Academy and attain your goal without my blessing.”

Ever so slowly, those huge wings began to encompass the young mare’s head again. Eb reached out, placed one hoof on the edge of the warm membrane, and held it down so he could look her in at least one eye.

“Speak the truth,” he said slowly. “Can you do it? Can you rise to the ranks of the Sacred Band, defeat stallions twice your size and strength, lay down your life so the Sisters can live? Are you willing to spend your life’s blood in their defense, to sacrifice yourself so they may live. Because you shall not even be considered for that dubious honor if you remain beneath a mattress in a dark room.”

The reply was muffled by wings, but plain enough to Eb’s ears. “I’m… afraid.”

Eb snorted. “Every initiate claims to be brave, but on their first battle, the ground beneath them becomes damp with yellow rain. Only a fool is without fear. It keeps you from doing foolish things… like flinging yourself against Nightmare Moon from the rear, I suppose.”

Fear had blinded his mind, fear of what would happen, fear of the world’s destruction from the one he had sworn to obey and frustration at being unable to do anything sane to help. Insanity had been his only option, but he was not about to admit that to a child other than obliquely.

“You must face your fears and defeat them every hour of Day and Night. You must not turn away from them and pretend they do not exist, for in that kind of darkness they will grow until they consume you. That is the danger facing both Luna and yourself. You both fear being consumed by your magic and taken away by it to die alone. You both must face this fear with the support of others. She has her sister. You—”

Lowering his voice to a bare whisper, Eb moved close enough that his own short-cropped mane brushed against hers. “Family always means well. Particularly the family you acquire when joining the Guard. Remember, sometimes they are wrong. My companions were wrong when they gave in to Luna’s power. Make your own decision in this regard, no matter how difficult, and own it. If you are to ascend to our ranks despite my advice, become the finest Royal Guard in history. Be an example for generations yet unborn. Your destiny lies not in the Sisters’ will, but yours. Soar among the stars with Luna or fight terrible foes with Celestia if that is your desire, or turn your attention to other goals. It does not matter what others want you to do with your life, only that you live it the best way you can, to the full width and breadth possible.”

At least the young mare had quit trembling. It gave Eb a tiny bit of hope that he was not mucking this up too much.

“I saw you amidst the observers when I fought Princess Luna,” he said out of impulse. “Could you hope to defeat any of the beings who sparred with me.”

“I can beat Uncle Pansy two falls out of three,” she murmured with a spark of pride. “He’s slow.”

“And most probably holding back,” added Eb. “What would you do when your opponents have no compassion, when you face certain death?”

“We live so they live,” continued the young mare hesitantly. “We die so they live. If they die, the world dies.”

“Mere words,” managed Eb.

“She sent you,” said the mare again, slowly and through chattering teeth. “Flying so high. Dangerous. Could have hurt her. She sent you. Send me.”

* * *

The air of the hallway was thick with the scent of mares, packed in close in their futile attempt at eavesdropping. When Eb allowed the door to swing open, several stumbled forward, then backed up through the hallways as he strode forward as an unstoppable force until they reached the larger gathering room.

All Ebon Tide could see were eyes. This was a much smaller House than Peanut Brittle’s friendly bunch of clans, but packed into the room in dense array with wings and shoulders pressed together in an unbroken wave of darkness that occasionally blinked.

Since he was not making any progress just standing there and looking back, Eb decided to start off with a statement of fact.

“I am Warmaster Ebon Tide, and I speak for the Princess of the Moon in matters military. Her voice is my voice, and my words hers. Do any of you doubt my authority in this matter?”

There was an uncomfortable shuffling, generally directed at a small group of elderly mares clustered around the child’s grandmother. Since silence was working so well, Eb let it soak in for a time before asking, “I said…”

“No.” The child’s grandmother had the expression of somepony who was not happy about the situation and was willing to spread that unhappiness around liberally, but she did bite off the word like a bitter persimmon. “You speak for the Princess. Now speak.”

“The child is deeply hurt,” he continued almost immediately. “She will need the love of family to recover. All of her family.”

The grandmother seemed to take his declaration as a reassurance that the child would not tread the path of the Royal Guard, and she relaxed slightly with thoughts of matrimonial planning and pairing most probably on her mind. It did not last for long, because Eb continued.

“Once she has recovered sufficiently, she will be given the opportunity to attend the Academy. There she will bond with her fellow Guards as additional family in their own right. She will train with them, study with them, and fight with them. And if I am any judge of character, she will eventually become the finest Royal Guard of all time, taking her place at the Sisters’ side as an example to all of us.”

“But she’s a mare!” exclaimed the grandmother. “She cannot take up the armor of the Royal Guard. She’s a mare half the size of any of the incoming cadets!”

Ever so slowly, Eb turned his head to look at the old batpony. “That matters not. In my time, I trained with some of the finest mares ever to wear armor. I trained with them, I fought with them, and if needed, I would have died with them.”

We’re just going to ignore that these mares were in fact the Royal Sisters.

Eb returned to a long look around the room, trying to project an authority he did not really feel. “This is her decision, not mine. I am fully aware of the difficulties she will face with other Guards twice her size.” He paused. “I assure you she will try her best not to hurt them too severely. That being said, I support her decision, and so does Princess Luna. Any who impede her chosen path will answer to me.”

He did not wait for confirmation or to defend his statement, but merely stepped forward and headed for the apartment complex door with the intention of returning to his rooms and taking a very long and hot shower. The last thing he expected was seeing one of Peanut Brittle’s many small friends step forward to block his path, although it was a very small block that he could have just stepped over if he wanted.

“Mister Tide,” the small colt asked plaintively, “I thought you were going to die soon?”

He looked down, seeing the short-cropped mane and the adoring look of hero worship in the colt’s eyes, absolutely certain that he was talking to a future cadet. “I am,” said Eb softly. “That does not change my statement in the slightest.”

With that, Warmaster Ebon Tide, last of the Nightguards, walked out of the House with his head held high.

Time passed regardless of his activity, and so it was that Ebon Tide was at the House Honor clan, enjoying a simple dinner with the children and his rather oblique family, when the answer he least expected arrived in the form of the Alicorn of the Sun.

“Arise,” said Celestia as she strolled right into the House dining area, quite nearly causing one of the elderly retired Guards in the family to have a heart attack and making Eb very glad that Grandpa Waffles was wearing his shorts.

“Your Highness,” said Eb, who had stood up from the table instead of kneeling down like the rest of the family. “Enter this home and be at peace, for none shall oppose you within these walls.”

“I am not here to dine,” said Celestia, although her gaze slipped slightly sideways to hesitate over a cake being saved for dessert. “I have come to retrieve you. My sister says she has a cure for your condition, and that it would be best applied at once.”

Something deep inside Eb snarled and spat, wanting nothing more than to spring on the mare who would have seen him die rather than discomfort her sister. The desire had grown overpowering during the last few days, and sorely tried his will to keep in check, although the presence of the children helped.

“You children are invited to attend,” said Celestia before Peanut Brittle could move her mouth from behind her brother’s preemptively placed hoof.

“Are you sure?” asked Gravel in his role as the youngest and more assertive of authority in the group. “I mean this sounds like a big pony thing and Eb can explain it to us when—”

“I insist,” said Celestia with such finality it gave Eb the mental image of a giant hoof stomping the objection flat as parchment, and stopped any of the older ponies in the family from raising their own.

“Can we help?” blurted out Peanut Brittle as she managed to get a few words past her brother’s blocking hoof.

“You have helped,” said Celestia with a quiet smile, “and you are helping, as much as you will help as you continue to learn and grow. But for now, we simply need your presence. Come, children. And Warmaster,” she added as Celestia turned to leave.

* * *

It was very much like the last time he had visited the Royal Garden’s broad lawn, only without the presence of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony looking rather nervous out in the grass. He was even told to stand in the same section of vitrified soil that had been left over since his failed ‘Harmonization’ and obviously untreated by the groundkeepers since. Most probably there had been some sort of alicorn-decision in that regard because most of the groundskeepers were fussy old ponies who did not remember this section of ground as a fort’s defensive bulwark with earthworks and trenches against attack.

The children gathered to one side, herded together by Private Pansy like a number of chicks around a large mother hen. They were far enough back to keep them out of any immediate danger, but not far enough from Eb that he really felt comfortable with their presence. He much would have rather kept the children in their Houses while Princess Luna did whatever she was planning. If it was fatal to him or otherwise traumatizing, they would at least have one more layer of padding around their sensitive souls. Why in the world his four sparring partners were situated next to the children, he had not a clue, but he suspected—

Luna made her appearance, coming out of the shadows like she had planned every step of this production for maximum drama. She strode across the short grass and up to Eb with a brisk trot, stopping just out of immediate reach to give a superior smirk.

“The armor will have to go,” she stated quite certainly. “The competing enchantments could affect the spell I’ve prepared.”

Eb looked down at the dark metal wrapped around him like a second skin, plain steel that did nothing to quell the burning rage that clawed at his heart. He did not want to reveal the weakness that he had intentionally placed upon himself in preparation for his final end, but he could not disobey his liege. “There are no enchantments on this, Your Highness. I’ve grown enough and bent enough suits that the armory has been fitting me with plain metal for several weeks now, and my shoes likewise.”

“Even better. Remain where you are. This spell is deceptively simple, but requires your full cooperation.”

The fey spirit that seemed to elevate Luna’s mood faded away and an extremely serious Princess of the Night glowed silver in the moonlight, looking nothing like the timid coward that he had first encountered. She looked at him with a gaze that seemed to penetrate his soul and laid bare the corrupted magic that she had placed within him.

“Do you trust me?”

For an instant, Eb was tempted to tell the absolute truth. The memory of that simple wooden box with its golden note inside nailed his hooves to the ground and froze the words in his mouth. “Yes,” he managed after grinding his teeth.

“I don’t think I heard you,” breathed Luna, looking entirely too pleased at his discomfort.

“I swore the oath,” snapped Ebon Tide through the boiling of the dark magic in his belly. “To our last breath, to the last drop of blood in our bodies, to the end of our days we shall serve thee. Forsaking all other oaths and titles we shall serve thee. No harm shall we allow, no blight upon your honor shall besmirch the Crown while we stand, united in your defense as brothers through life and unto death. That is the degree of trust we have given you. I have bled for you, I have died for you in all ways but the last, and by your actions, I have lived for you. You have already taken everything from me! What more do you want? What more can you demand of me? Shall I walk into the fire and burn until I am naught but ash? Spill my blood until I am dry as dust?”

Luna’s features softened, revealing a far more of an ordinary pony standing in front of him than the Royal Sister of before. “I call upon you for one last task which we cannot reveal. Only know that it is of greatest importance, and I would entrust it to nopony but thyself.”

“Me?” Eb shook away the cloying fire of betrayal that threatened to blind his wits and unleash the animal inside his skin. “We are filled with thy dark magic to overflowing, and now you want to entrust me with a task?” He bit back any further words and lowered himself to a kneeling position, expecting to be struck down and slain before he could betray the princesses yet again. “Speak your command and I shall obey, one last time.”

“Stand.” Luna’s face was abjectly serious when he looked up in surprise, without a single hint of humor. Ever so slowly, Eb returned to his previous stance, somewhat shocked that he was only slightly shorter than Princess Luna now, and close enough that he could feel her breath across his face.

Then she stepped forward and kissed him, ever so briefly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peanut Brittle put a hoof over Riptide’s eyes, but the rest of the children and his sparring partners were frozen in astonishment. Celestia opened her mouth to object, but after a long look at her sister, sat back down on the soft green grass of the Royal Gardens and remained silent. If his last action was to provide entertainment for the Royal Sisters and their guests, Eb considered that would be appropriate in this era where even the enemies of Equestria had become entertainers.

“Long did we ponder over our decision, but there was wisdom in your words and those of the children, so we brought Celestia into our confidence.” Luna stepped back a short distance and floated a piece of parchment up in front of her. Without a sign of effort, she lit her horn with a dark shimmering light that seemed to vanish when looked at directly. “It was with her assistance that we uncovered one of Starswirl the Bearded’s peculiar unfinished spells, but it is my decision and mine alone to risk its use.”

The glow from her horn shifted and silver runes began to chase themselves up and down the page of parchment, spinning out onto the moonlit grass and swirling around the whole area like fireflies. In moments, there was nothing to be seen outside the giant swirl of stars, except for Luna and Eb inside and at opposite ends of the glowing sphere.

“It was my decision to become Nightmare Moon, which ultimately brought you here. It was my decision to imbue you with the dark magic which now threatens to kill you. And it is my decision on how to resolve the issue in a way that is best for Equestria and all who live within our world. I have spoken to Celestia about my decision, and she agrees. She needs you. Do you understand?”

“I… No,” said Eb as the dark magic within him churned and bubbled, reacting against the glitter of silver which began to surround him like a cage. “Where are you going to send me so I am not a danger to you both?”

“The answer is not where,” breathed Luna as the magic on her horn grew to a blinding light and the parchment she held began to scintillate with unspoken power. “There is a purpose for Celestia standing where she was, as I am, and you. As it once was, and now is again. The only magic that can purge my curse from you must come from an alicorn wielding the Elements of Harmony against another alicorn. And there is only one place and time where that occurred.”

“No,” managed Eb. He fought to raise his wings as the rage inside him rose to a fierce boil and the silver runes imprisoning him spun into a blinding blur. “NO!”

And he was gone.

24. Loops

The Last Nightguard
Loops

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
— Dylan

Betrayed by the mare he was told to trust, crushed on all sides by incredible magical power, and flung headlong into darkness left Ebon Tide raging beyond the edge of insanity. The scent of smoke and blood sweeping up from below overwhelmed what little shreds of restraint he had used to control his dark magic, shoving him over a line he had fought long and hard to avoid.

Spat out into the night air and flailing as rage filled his mind to overflowing, he fell like a stone.

Instinct drove him to spread his wings, instinct and a driving call to battle which he could not ignore. The Goddess of the Night sang to his soul, breathing on the embers of his anger and bringing them to a terrible blaze that threatened to consume him in Her glory. All around him, he could hear the answering call of his fellow warriors, blessed by Her magic and subservient to Her will.

Command us! Lead us to glory in your name! The Night shall last forever!

Ebon’s brief visit to the future faded in his memory until it was a mere ghost. This was his reality now. This was his purpose! Everything around him was now as it had been on that night, but seen through new eyes. Her eyes. Her will. Her victory.

The Castle of the Two Sisters steamed beneath him, coils of smoke coming out of shattered roofs and broken bodies scattered about like children’s toys. They rose up against Her and had been struck down for their arrogance. Guards who had once shared bread and beer with him now discarded like broken reeds. Friends who had fought at his side in defense of the Sisters.

The siren call of the Nightmare faltered momentarily at the thought. Somewhere below him, his own daughters hid in terror at what their Princess had become, the monster their father had become in her service, and the destruction that followed. Hiding beneath their beds like frightened foals without the protection of a loving Princess to bring them out and banish that fear, they would be consumed in the ongoing destruction.

Then he saw the fierce glow of dark magic as Nightmare Moon charged a terrifying blast of power against her sister, the radiant Princess of the Sun glowing with a light so bright it turned night into day around her.

…and he could see a dark shadow swooping down, intent on striking the insane alicorn from behind.

He did not even think that the diving pegasus was him from just a few short months ago. The only thought in his mind was an incoherent fury that drove him against the one who dared attack his Goddess of the Night. Wings tucked up in a dive of his own, the Warmaster of the Night Goddess flung himself into battle for her glory.

Wind blasting past his body peeled his lips back from sharp teeth bared to tear the throat out of Her enemy, but feathers were faster than his blessed wings. The Nightguard kept his narrow lead, pulling out of his dive with forehooves extended to strike the Goddess of the Night from behind, but ahead of them both, equal powers of Sun and Darkness unleashed their might against each other.

For a fraction of a second, Warmaster Ebon Tide thought the magical battle would remain a stalemate, but then the Nightmare pulled and he could not even use his breath to howl defiance as something deep inside his chest flared into incandescent agony.

Fire consumed him, tearing through every nerve and sinew and igniting him like a torch until his last breath escaped in a strangled scream. The fel magic filling his gut tore away in ragged slices and fragments, pulled by the inevitable might of Nightmare Moon and used to reinforce her own alicorn strength.

All around, he could feel the similar agony of his fellow Blessed as the Goddess attempted to reclaim her magic, bringing the brilliant dark glare of Nightmare Moon’s power to a blinding flare that threatened to overwhelm Princess Celestia’s brilliant light and strike her down.

Strike down the Sister he had pledged to protect with his life.

We live so they live. We die so they live.

Warmaster… that is Royal Guard Ebon Tide mustered every fragment of his being, every memory of the Sisters, the experiences of years in their service, the blood, the pain, and the thought of one small pony hiding beneath a bed, willing to go through the same hellish agony in order to serve. It barely let him tear away from the enticing call of the Nightmare, gripping the faltering dark magic flowing from him in a desperate attempt to quench the fuel to that dark fire, to stop Luna before she could destroy Celestia and doom the world to eternal darkness.

Duty called out to him like bonds of steel, heated by fire and purified in the forge until it wrapped around him in a protective embrace. He could likewise feel the flow of magic from his fellow transformed batponies also stutter as he leveled off his headlong plummet and focused on the line ahead. Four ponies in a row, two of him and two royal sisters for just a fraction of a second before the Elements of Harmony broke through Nightmare Moon’s faltering power like a sledgehammer through a stained glass window and filled the world in front of him with blinding light.

Eat rainbows, bi—

There was a certain tolerance one built up to having ancient artifacts unleashed on oneself so often. This time, Ebon Tide luxurated in the blast of power, soaking it in, relishing the feeling of familiar magic roaring through him like a waterfall. As it slammed into the remaining reservoir of dark magic in his belly, he could feel it change somehow, turning darkness to moonlight and spreading out to all the others of his kind all around him.

This was the reason the Elements of Harmony did not cleanse his dark magic when Twilight Sparkle and her friends had used them on him either time. All of the work he had put into finding out what had purged the dark magic from the doomed batponies of this era was suddenly ridiculously redundant. He was the conduit for change, the mortal sacrifice that would allow the others to live just like a Royal Guard should give his life for others.

Ebon Tide laughed as he tumbled out of the sky, wreathed in the brilliant glow of the Elements of Harmony until his limp form struck the roof of a building and vanished inside with a crash of tile and splintered wood.

* * *

Being dead was painful.

It was not as bad as if Ebon Tide had removed his armor as Luna had requested so recently, in which case he would have been really dead instead of just considering how deeply he was buried in rubble. Shoving a section of broken roof off his armored back, he shifted some more household debris and emerged into an unoccupied bedroom of some sort. Shock made the enormity of his situation difficult to manage, but by focusing on one crisis at a time like his experience as a Warmaster had taught him, it could be controlled. Still, going from a moonlit patch of Royal Gardens lawn to fighting for his life to wading through wreckage was going to take some adjustment. There were the ongoing skirmishes between Nightmare Moon’s forces and the loyal Guards, the need to provide assistance to the wounded, and one more thing that Eb could not think of until he heard the sound of crying when he limped out of the damaged building.

“Celestia,” he gasped to himself as the importance of his tasks took on a sudden rearrangement. Hurrying around the corner, he found the Princess of the Sun standing despondent in a debris-littered courtyard, staring up at the corrupted moon reigning over the night sky.

“Luna,” she managed through her tears. “Why?”

“Your Highness,” said Eb in as calming voice as he could while moving carefully forward, edging his way around the Elements of Harmony that had fallen around her in the forms of inert stone globes. “You had to do it. She was going to destroy the world.”

“No!” sobbed Celestia, and that proud head slowly lowered until it was facing the ground. “No,” she added far quieter. “Gone forever. My fault. Why should I live when she is gone?”

“We need you,” said Eb, sliding under one extended wing. “Lean upon me and permit my assistance. There is naught to fear as long as I am here with you. Fold thy wings.”

Ever so slowly, those vast white wings returned to her broad flanks and Celestia allowed herself to be guided forward in the direction of her quarters with Eb’s calming voice encouraging her onward. “Luna is not forever departed. She will be back in a thousand years and return to your side. You need to be strong while she is gone. Be an example to us all. We will not abandon you.”

One step at a time, one quiet word of reassurance after another, Eb led the noble Princess of the Sun like she was a wounded child until he drew near the Royal Quarters and had to face an opponent he dreaded above all else.

“Your Highness!” Celestia’s personal servant and trusted aide came galloping out of the damaged building, ignoring the crunch of shattered plaster and lesser debris with eyes that were locked on the devastated princess and nothing else. Dawns Light’s flaming red mane was filthy with fallen plaster and her white coat nearly grey from dirt, and she skidded to a halt a short distance away from her liege as if she were terrified of soiling the princess’ scorched coat with her own type of inferior dirt.

“Under her other wing, Miss Light,” said Eb just as calmly as he could. “Help her walk. She’s suffered a terrible mental blow.”

“Where’s Luna?” gasped Dawns Light as she obeyed Eb’s order and took the other side of the sizable princess.

Celestia promptly burst into more anguished tears, leaving Eb to fix the startled unicorn with a quelling glance. “Nightmare Moon has been banished to the moon by the Elements of Harmony. She will not return for a thousand years, so our first priority is to see Celestia to a place of safety where she can rest.”

Dawn hesitated, which reminded Eb that he was still a hulking batpony in a world where the creatures had been the enemy of Princess Celestia until minutes ago. Agony stabbed him to the heart with the knowledge that he was once again alone, trapped in a body that would repulse any normal pony and unable to use the power of his office to enforce obedience since he had betrayed the Crown and violated his oath.

“Trust me,” he insisted. “Dawns Light, Royal Factotum for the Sun, I cannot swear by the Iuramentum e sangui any more since I have betrayed my oath to the Guard, but I give you my remaining life’s blood to do with as you please, and your sister as well, if you will just take this task from me. She needs you. She needs both of you.”

Dawns’ eyes grew wide and she lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “Eb?”

“Nay.” Eb turned his head away from the unicorn servant and resumed assisting Celestia in the direction of her quarters. “Oathbreakers have no name.”

“Ebon Tide,” she repeated slightly louder, although she continued to guide Princess Celestia on her way into the damaged building. “I know that voice. You—”

“I’ll explain everything once I can,” said Eb quietly. “Get Her Highness to bed and don’t leave her alone for a second. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

With that, Eb slipped back out of the door and into the night. It was blatantly wrong to be abandoning his liege in this time of crisis, but there were things that absolutely had to be done, and one of those was waiting for him right outside the door.

“Commander Onslaught.” Eb stopped and regarded the fierce pegasus warrior who hovered nearby. “Land. You have a duty to perform this—”

In a recent time, Onslaught’s sprint forward to strike him down would have been difficult to defend against. Ebon Tide had changed far more than colors and wings since then. He caught the descending hoof and turned the attack into a solid throw that landed his former subordinate flat on his back with enough impact to knock the wind straight out of him.

“Listen you iron-headed nitwit,” growled Eb into Onslaught’s ear while keeping pressure on his helmeted head so he would stay put. “There are wounded all around this castle! Stop wasting your time fighting. This battle is over! Organize your cohort and provide assistance to all of the injured. All of them, feathers or not. If I catch you hurting or ignoring one of Princess Luna’s transformed ponies, I’ll kill you and put Subcommander Wingnut in charge of the rescue process. Same goes for him, and you tell him that. Understand?”

“Warmaster?” Onslaught managed to look up into Eb’s face and his green eyes got very large.

“Oathbreaker,” growled Eb. “I deserve no name. You will take charge of the rescue by Celestia’s authority and in your name. You will carry out this task regardless of the transformed state of the wounded or not.” Without the boiling rage in his gut, Eb found it easier to choke back his anger and add, “She needs you. I cannot do this in either of their names. Only you.”

He could feel the battle-tension ease from the pegasus he had trapped beneath him. Taking a deep breath and hoping he was not making one more bad decision of many, Eb backed away and allowed Commander Onslaught to stand up. There was a moment of unspoken decision, his former subordinate started to make a motion as if he were about to salute, paused, and put his hoof back down on the ground.

“Oathbreaker,” he said carefully. “Breaking the Oath does not mean your requests are without merit.”

“Go forth and do Her will,” said Eb with a nod. “None shall threaten Her Highness while I draw breath.” He watched Onslaught fly away and tried to settle ruffled feathers that no longer existed. All of his study of history matched up against a personal knowledge of his past life, and it led to only one inescapable conclusion to what challenge he would face next.

* * *

Bunker was not a patient minotaur, which was saying something for the generally short-tempered race. His people had been humiliated, driven before the devilish alicorns and reduced to abject defeat dozens of times over the last few decades. His own father had risen to power in opposition to the Equestrian onslaught even though he had capitulated to a lesser position to preserve the fragile ‘peace’ and sent Bunker to the capital as a blood-hostage by another name.

Now half of the alicorns had been banished to the moon, and the other half was badly weakened by the effort. Now was the time to strike for Minos freedom.

“Celestia!” bellowed Bunker in the debris-strewn courtyard, glittering silver in the light of the corrupted moon. He drew his battleaxe across the cobblestones with a horrible grating noise, then swung it over his shoulder. “Come forth and fight!”

There was a shifting of the shadows and a monster strode out with a glitter of moonlight across its ebon armor and a faint shimmer across half-spread dragon wings. It smiled with an obvious display of sharp white teeth and ever so slowly shook its head.

“Shh,” it said.

Bunker took a deep breath to bellow out a challenge and the monster moved. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with his own battleaxe tickling his throat.

“Shh,” said the monster again. “Princess Celestia is sleeping. She’s had a very difficult evening. Raise your voice again and you will never make another noise. Your father, Director Blowback, will be deeply disappointed.”

“You know my name,” whispered Bunker, feeling the edge of his blade with every word. “Speak yours so I will know who sent me to the Great Plain of Battle.”

“I have no name,” he said. “Die to me and your shade will wander forever honorless among honorable warriors. Live and I promise your name will be spoken with respect for centuries after your time has passed.”

His heart was still pounding enough to make his ears throb, but if the monster wanted him dead, his head would already be far from his body, so Bunker nodded a fraction of a smidge. “Only a fool agrees to unknown conditions with a blade at his throat.”

“The son of Grand Director Blowback is no fool.” The monster stepped back, and when Bunker lunged forward to grab it by the throat, there was some sort of complicated movement, and he found himself in exactly the same position, only with more pain.

“Or is he a fool indeed?” added the nameless monster.

“I will never yield to an opponent with no name,” hissed Bunker through the agony. “Nor will I listen to conditions while held—”

The blade pressed closer and Bunker stopped talking before he cut his own throat.

“Princess Celestia was forced to banish her own sister to the moon,” breathed the monster. “She rests now, but what will happen if she is forced to respond to an attack? What restraint will she show a rebellious idiot and his people when she sent her own sister to the moon,” he ended in a feral growl.

“You have no idea the power an alicorn wields. Look at this body if you have any doubt. Princess Luna transformed hundreds of pegasi a mere few hours ago, and they will wear this mark for the rest of our lives. When they fought your kind, the Royal Sisters held themselves back to an inordinate degree. They could have reduced your entire country to glowing embers, slain your race down to the smallest calf, and left nothing but lava. The dragons would have appreciated the new territory, but it would have affected the Sisters deeply. They care, and that is their weakness.”

The monster eased the blade away from Bunker’s throat and placed it to one side. “I will not let you destroy your race for a futile effort at petty vengeance. That road has none but ashes and dust to choke the life from your body. I know of what I speak, which is why I have named myself Oathbreaker to my kind, both that which I was and that which I am now.”

“You… were a Guard?” asked Bunker, his eyes wide with amazement.

“I rose to battle with the Sisters when we crushed your forces at the Crimson Gate,” said the monster. “A hundred times we could have wiped them out without loss, but the Sisters bid us hold our blows until your entire force was committed and we could ensure none would flee. The siege engines and supplies burned, your commanders captured, and your father challenged Celestia to single combat.”

“Father was foolish to engage her,” growled Bunker. “He should have—”

“When he inevitably lost,” snapped the Oathbreaker, “he saved the lives of every minotaur still alive on the battlefield. He knew what he was doing. From the commanders of that battle he forged a unified Minos, a victory no other minotaur had ever accomplished in your fractious history. Under the Sisters and their rule, he has brought unbridled prosperity to your lands. No more do whole clans beggar their people into starvation to raise forces against each other in ceaseless combat. You owe the Sisters for that victory far more than you are owed vengeance.”

The words were inescapable facts that Bunker had long been denying by covering them in heaping thoughts of revenge, but it brought a new chill to his heart when he thought of the cosmic power a raging alicorn could muster. If one of them had deliberately done this to her followers, what could a desperate alicorn do to an enemy who attacked without honor while she was weakened by grief? How many minotaurs would have been incinerated by his actions if this dark monster had not stopped him? And if Bunker had managed the feat, the world would have died in darkness and ice without anyone to raise the Sun.

“I apologize,” said Bunker, the simple words coming out like briars. Ponies had long been the reason for his disgrace, and to have one intervene to save his life and the lives of his people was a horrible shift in his perspective.

“In the days to come, I suspect you will curse me rather than appreciate this moment,” said the huge Oathbreaker. “But now that you are willing to talk sense and heed my words, let me tell you what the noble race of minotaurs can become with the right kind of leadership.”

For a long time, the dark dragon-winged pony spoke and Bunker listened. Devices and mechanisms had always intrigued him, from siege engines to clocks, but the Oathbreaker’s words extended far, far beyond his knowledge and experience. Chugging steam engines pulling vast amounts of cargo along steel rails, explosives to blow holes in granite mountains, vast foundries producing steel by the tonne instead of a few pounds, and other marvelous things filled his mind, but one thing stood out beyond all others.

“You want to move the Equestrian capitol to Canterlot?” he asked. “All of it? Up the mountain in a mere decade?”

“It must be done. The Sisters broke Harmony in this hallowed forest,” said the Oathbreaker. “In ten years, this shattered place will be abandoned to the beasts and monsters. If Equestria is to survive, we will need the help of Minos. We need you. She needs you.”

There was really nothing Bunker could say, but he could do something he never thought he would ever do in his life. He reached out his powerful hand and grasped the Oathbreaker by one hoof. “You shall have whatever you need. Minos will rise to the occasion and all of the world will see what we can do. It still will be quite difficult, but we will rise.”

The Oathbreaker smiled, a line of glittering sharp teeth in the moonlight. “That is why I am glad you were first this night. Ebony the Gryphon will be along shortly, if I guess correctly, and when the two of us beat some sense into her head and fill it instead with visions of great airships, the three of us will visit First Fang Gravelhide, and after that…

* * *

The first rays of sunshine glowed strongly over the Castle of the Two Sisters, casting long shadows across the wounded and the dead, thankfully more of the first than the second. There was a muted cheer from worried ponies over the return of the expected sunrise, but mostly the weary work of rescue continued unabated with ponies and other creatures working together in ways that would have been unheard of a mere day ago. Minotaurs winched fallen stones from trapped ponies while Diamond Dogs tunneled to find those trapped more deeply in the ruins. Even a dragon sniffed his way among the wreckage with a painful limp, stopping to point out places where others were trapped, and griffons flew messages between rescue parties to coordinate their response.

One large shadow swept down to a landing in front of a large door guarded by both an earth pony and a bat-winged pegasus, neither of whom were in any condition to offer a fight to an invader. Between bandages around various limbs and some layers of sticking plaster holding cuts closed, they made up just a bit over one whole Guard, but they stiffened to attention as Eb stopped in front of them.

“How is she?” Eb fought to keep from trembling, but it had been a very long evening operating far, far in excess of his endurance.

“No word, sir,” whispered the earth pony. “The Factotum is with her now, but at least she was able to raise the sun, so that’s a good sign.” The batpony Guard nodded, since he had obviously been bashed in the face sometime in the last few hours and was unable to talk. Eb had to wonder who he was, but it was unimportant in the larger field of problems.

“My visit shall be short,” whispered Eb back. “Guard her well.”

With that, Eb slipped in the door to pause at the sight of the Royal Chambers. Dawns Light had just backed carefully out of the bedroom when she caught his eye and motioned to a side room he had never seen before. They went silently until the door was closed, and to Eb’s sudden unease he realized there was a third quiet pony in the room.

“Dawns Light,” whispered Eb with a nod at the Day Factotum. “Penumbra,” he added with a second nod at the glowering dark unicorn. The Night Factotum was actually named Dusky Withers, but she disliked the name sufficiently that only Luna was permitted to use it, and any others who tried received the sharp end of her tongue, applied liberally.

“Princess Celestia is sleeping with Doctor Bombay and Nurse Sing in close attendance,” said Dawns, not taking her eyes off him for an instant and leaving a low, threatening light glow from her horn.

“Good. This room is spelled against eavesdropping,” said Penumbra with a noticeable snap to her words and the same intent stare under a lit horn of her own. “What did you do to Princess Luna, you degenerate monster, and how can we beat a cure out of you?”

“You of all ponies know what happened to Luna,” said Eb with the last bit of spite he was able to muster. “She gave in to the temptations of her dark nature and became Nightmare Moon. I flew to strike her when Princess Celestia unleashed the power of the Elements of Harmony to imprison us in the moon and…”

There were far too many things that needed to be said, but Eb could not say any of them. He had so little experience with time spells that he would probably destroy the world several times over if he blurted out the wrong thing. Penumbra, however, reacted rather oddly to his outburst and resulting silence afterward.

“Day, you spoke of Luna returning in a thousand years,” said Penumbra to her sister. “And nopony knew the Elements of Harmony were used save Princess Celestia and ourselves.” There was a long period of time when Penumbra just looked at him with dark violet eyes that seemed to penetrate to his soul until she added, “The flesh is unfamiliar, but that stance is unmistakable. Warmaster Ebon Tide, is that old goat Starswirl responsible for this disaster?”

Eb shook his head wearily. “Oathbreaker, I am, with no name or title. And Starswirl hath not returned… Did not return even a thousand years hence.”

“Which means you have been there and returned,” responded Penumbra almost instantly. “Struck by the Elements of Harmony and imprisoned in the moon, then returned to us on the hour of your banishment.”

“You are the last Guard I would expect to fall for Nightmare Moon’s poisoned words,” added Dawns Light with an ominous, low voice and the reddish glow around her horn unabated. “And yet here you are, dressed in her corrupt flesh and serving the one who defeated your master.”

“A conundrum wrapped in a mystery indeed, but all through this eve, we have seen things that invite far more important questions,” murmured Penumbra. “Outside our door stand two Guards who mere hours ago were trying their best to kill each other. Now they would die together rather than neglect their duties. Then there were noises of fighting in the Great Courtyard and reports that you were beating the stuffing out of the Dragonlord’s First Fang with several others.”

“A griffon and a minotaur,” said Dawns Light. “Working together with you. Then supposedly the four of you then went off to visit other representatives, where I presume you engaged in more acts of kinetic diplomacy because of the awestruck stories of unity that visitors have been bringing every hour. One would expect the conquered races of Equestria to fly apart without the weight of Sun and Moon to hold them stable, and yet the exact opposite has happened. Tell us why.”

“I cannot,” managed Eb through his fatigue and sore muscles. “The world might fly apart yet. Starswirl’s theories—”

“Starswirl,” muttered both Dawns Light and Penumbra at the same time, although the darker unicorn continued, “More of his theories remain unproved than proven, and half of those were proven wrong. Forget the old fraud for the moment. If indeed you are Ebon Tide, and you have been a thousand years hence and back again, your mere presence indicates you are an integral part of this world. The universe is rather unkind to paradox anomalies.”

“Pops them out of existence,” said Dawns Light. “Or at least that’s what he said. Now, since you are still here, and we are still here, either Starswirl was wrong—”

“Again,” said Penumbra.

“—or your presence is supposed to be,” finished Dawns Light. “So why are you here?”

It was an extraordinarily simple question that had no simple answer, but of all the unicorns in Equestria right now who might understand his confused explanation of the situation, the Sisters Factotum had once been Starswirl’s apprentices, and therefore most likely to understand. He started with the Elements of Harmony and all four times he had been exposed to their power, complete with the implication that the stones might have used him for some purpose of their own. That led inevitably to explaining how he had been near death when freed from the moon and Luna’s desperate gamble to save his worthless life, along with the numbers of his present batwinged brethren in that modern era. He had to spend some time speaking about Peanut Brittle, of course, and all of her small friends, as well as the conundrum that his mismatched sparring partners had sprung upon him.

Although Dusky Withers had once force-fed a stallion his own tail for merely mentioning foals in her presence, he could not help but notice a subdued smile lurking near the very corners of her thin lips when he detailed their mutual ordeal with the devilish opener of cans. Then there was Parliament, details of the treaties, wondrous technological innovations, and tales of the mountain city of Canterlot flowed out from him like a fountain over the course of hours with both unicorns drawn near so they would not miss a word.

There were a few interruptions during his recitation, ponies coming to the door with news of the castle outside, a few pottery steins of welcome ale to keep his throat from drying to dust, and other concerned ponies taking their turns to sit at Celestia’s bedside for comfort while she sobbed in her sleep. Eb could not bring himself to look into the bedchambers when they had their brief breaks, because he was unsure if he could keep himself from falling into a similar despondency over their mutual situation.

At long last, after his words had run out and all Eb had left was silence, Penumbra said a single word.

“Foals.”

It set him back a moment until he caught up with the words he had spoken last. “Oh, yes. All that Celestia could remember was that the two of you became mated to a batpony named Eclipse of this era and had many children. Both of you. And their children… that is your children were quite prolific and served the Crown for years until she regained her senses. Although I still do not know who Eclipse is. Tonight, I will conduct a search.”

Dawns Light placed a hoof gently on her forehead and tapped her unlit horn several times, but Penumbra merely huffed and made a noise that might have possibly been laughter, if it had not come from her.

“You are an idiot.” Penumbra moved closer and nudged Eb until he got up, then guided his somnambulant steps in the direction of a couch at the back of the room. “Smart for an idiot, I’ll admit, but still an idiot regardless.”

“I can’t rest,” protested Eb. “I need to see my daughters—”

“And tell them their father is an Oathbreaker turned into this fel shape by the Nightmare’s power,” continued Penumbra bluntly. “That you struck your liege, drove her to the end of time, swore you would slay her, and what else? Let the disgrace of your actions pass over them so they believe their father died in battle defending Her Highness. You lack the capacity to lie well to those whom you trust. We shall lie in your place. They shall not be neglected.”

“But there’s so much left to do,” he protested while Penumbra continued to herd him toward the couch. “She needs me.”

“True,” said Dawns Light, who had picked up a piece of parchment and was scribing away on it with a quill. “As you claim history has said, all three of us will be quite busy over the upcoming years, helping Her Highness return and guiding Equestria until she has recovered. And we’ll be raising foals, too.” She clucked her tongue as she wrote. “You’re already a good father. I’ve seen it in your daughters. Losing their mother when they were so young… Well, I don’t think we can replace Calla in your life. That’s obvious.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to do the best we can in all of our tasks,” added Penumbra as she gave Eb one last nudge that let him stumble onto the couch. “Now, sleep. We’ll talk about this later.” The dark unicorn gave him a long look from above, the dark pink stripe of mane flowing back from her horn in little frazzled knots of accumulated tension that made him want to brush her for some reason.

“But… I’m not Eclipse,” he managed weakly.

“You weren’t,” said Penumbra. “And you may not be now.”

“But you will be,” said Dawns Light with one last stroke of her quill. “And if history says we have to mate with a devilishly handsome pony such as you—”

“And have foals,” said Penumbra very softly as she tucked a cover over him.

“—we’ll drive the stuffy nobles absolutely mad with the thought of two unicorns in an intimate relationship with one of Luna’s creations.” Dawns Light paused with her parchment hovering in front of her. “Luna was right, you know. Her sister needs the best to protect and guide her over the next few years. And she sent you.”

“We never would have been able to do this by ourselves,” admitted Penumbra.

“And it will still be terribly difficult,” said Dawn.

“But I think we can manage together,” they both said in unison.

The unicorn sisters let out a quiet sigh and gathered together around the parchment to make a few more changes to whatever Dawn had written while Eb… that is Eclipse closed his eyes and let the comforting darkness enfold him.

It was good.

25. Letters

The Last Nightguard
Letters

“A letter is the simplest and worst form of time-travel and telepathy at once. It takes ones thoughts and transports them through a different medium until they reform in another pony’s mind, well and completely scrambled.”
— Starswirl’s Book of Incomplete

“It is time.”

Eclipse shifted in place as his wife tucked the precious wooden box into his saddlebag, trying not to look up at the corrupted moon above them. Ponies had adjusted, changed, turned into new generations of ponies so slowly that he had not noticed, but now that he could look out across the explosive growth of Canterlot with its inhabitants scurrying about, he could see the occasional mismatched couple. Earth pony and pegasus, unicorn and the dark shape of a…

Well, it had been many years and the new ponies formed from Luna’s spell still had not settled on one name for their whole race, but Eclipse still thought of them as batponies no matter the new phrase of the day. It had been a long and difficult road to get the hard-headed aristocracy of all three races to admit that intermarriage was not some sort of dark conspiracy or inferior mating, but Eclipse had not needed to kill any of them to dampen their criticism of his own three-way pairing.

Although on damp days, Lord Marken still walked with a limp right where Penumbra had kicked him. Repeatedly. Then when he had complained to Dawns Light, she kicked him precisely in the same spot. Repeatedly. It saved his life. Eclipse would not have been so gentle.

“Wake up, Numbskull.” Penumbra tied down the saddlebag with her magic, then slapped him on the flank. “You’re lost in thought again.”

“No, I’m right where I need to be,” said Eclipse. He gave his wife a quick and daring kiss on the cheek since they were in public, sitting on the thin grass of the Canterlot palace, exactly on the spot that would eventually become the vast lawn where he had been blasted by the Elements of Harmony. Twice. Personally, he much preferred the present than the future.

Giving one last peek at his saddlebag where the sealed wooden box had been placed, he shifted positions with a creaking of old joints to point southward while his wife fussed over one of his saddlebag straps.

“One last message to the future,” she mused. “And you had to save the most dangerous for last.”

“Danger is relative,” said Eclipse. “I’ve spoken with Torch several times over the years, and he is quite reasonable if you are careful.”

“Unless you foul up and he burns you to a crisp, in which case—” Penumbra kissed him solidly on the lips for an extended period of time, only pulling back and looking him in the eyes when the giggling of nearby grandfoals peeking around the corner of the palace wall became too loud to ignore. “You better dodge if you peeve him off. Just because I’m done with having foals, doesn’t mean you’re unappreciated. Besides, it’s my turn tonight. Dawn had you yesterday.”

“There are nights I wonder what I got into.” He kissed her gently and briefly so the children peeking around the corner would make yucky noises again before adding, “Your sister isn’t here yet. Is Celestia having issues again tonight?”

“Far from it.” Penumbra allowed herself a small smile, which still looked good on her. “Celestia recognized her. By name. She’s coming back. Slowly, but you were right. Again.”

“I’ve seen her walking on her own several times out in the gardens,” said Eclipse. “That slow one-hoof-at-a-time pace is going to stick with her for centuries, which is good for anypony trying to keep up.”

“I just wish…” Much like her husband, Penumbra’s black coat had gone so much to grey that it looked as if she were perpetually covered in frost, and when she lowered her head to look down at the ground, the pink stripe running down her thinning mane was nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the silver hairs.

Eclipse gently lifted her chin until she looked him in the eyes again, seeing the immense talent and caring heart that her crabby exterior had hidden from him for far too long. “None of us will live to see her return, but you know what?” He jerked his head ever so subtly in the direction of their grandfoals, now gathered in sufficient numbers that they threatened to cascade over each other as they each tried to sneak a peek around the stonework of the palace. “Our generations yet to come will. I think it was meant to be that way.”

“Fate,” snorted Penumbra in a way that made it sound like a profanity. “The future is what we make of it. And that being said—” she swatted him on the rear “—get flying or you’ll never make it back here before sunrise.”

“As you command.” Eclipse rose into the night sky with a sweep of his strong wings, and in moments was lost to the stars above. The children who had been hiding nearby emerged in a flood of horns and wings, clustering around Penumbra in a welcome herd that she was learning, ever so slowly, to appreciate instead of dread.

“Auntie Pen,” said a small unicorn carrying a large printed book, one of the first volumes that an ‘anonymous’ benefactor had funded. “We want you to read us a story from your new book.”

“A story?” Penumbra looked over the woodcut cover of the hefty book and the large block letters that described the contents. Something deep inside regretted not having her name on the cover, but Luna had gotten into far too much trouble by demanding her own recognition, and this was Penumbra’s one small step of anonymity toward her imprisoned liege’s long path of redemption. “Are you certain you want that particular book? There are several new—”

“No,” declared a younger batpony with a pale pink stripe down her violet mane. The sight of her favorite grandfoal made Penumbra’s heart melt into a gooey mess, but she tried not to show it as Inflection continued, “Wanna princess story, g’ma.”

“Grandmother,” said Penumbra. “And you did not say the word.”

“G’anmother,” said Inflection carefully. “Now.”

“Please,” chorused the rest of the young ponies over Penumbra’s chuckle. Even if she could never see Luna again, her descendents would, and perhaps they would have some part in freeing her from Nightmare Moon. Improbable, but it could happen.

“Very well. Gather around, young ones.”

By the light of a dozen small horns, Penumbra made herself comfortable and opened the book to the first page. It took some time to get all of the children arranged, youngest close where they could be more appreciated, oldest in the back so they could see over their siblings, but in good time she could begin.

“Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony for all the land. To do this, the eldest used her unicorn powers to raise the sun…”

It was the first snow of Winter, and the two ruling alicorns were sitting on the balcony of the Royal Towers, looking out across the snow-clad city as night enfolded the residents and brought forth the brilliant stars. It was a moment of perfect peace after so much stress, and neither of the Royal Sisters could bring themselves to say a word.

That is until Celestia could no longer hold back.

“How, Luna?” One royal gold-clad hoof swept across their elevated vista, from the glittering lights of the Canterlot club scene to the nearby Royal University Astronomy towers, where diligent students of several races scrutinized the sky for any anomalies that might possibly bring another unexpected alicorn. “All of the resources of the entire world were unable to find an answer to Ebon Tide’s condition, and you came to me with a spell right out of the blue. No warning after weeks of research with no results at all, and—”

“Starswirl,” said Luna as if one word would shut her sister up and return their quiet moment of togetherness. She should have known better.

“That old fraud?” Celestia took a quick glance over her shoulder as if she had heard a bell jingle, then returned to a proper scrutiny of the grounds far below the tower where a lump in the snow hid the glazed section of soil from the last attempt to cure their Royal Guard. “He’s not back,” added Celestia in a somewhat hopeful tone. “We would have heard by now. The first thing he would do is go straight to us and complain about everything we’ve done wrong since he vanished.”

“True,” admitted Luna. “I still miss him. He was cantankerous, obstinate, stubborn to a fault, but he was right when he placed quill to parchment, no matter how complicated his scribing.”

“Even when he never completed his work or was completely wrong,” said Celestia, rising to her hooves and pointing with a wing for emphasis. “He left behind mirrors that only reflect other worlds every thirty moons and clocks that run sideways every third weekend. Half of his work is sealed away into his private archives in the mountain core, and the other half confounds every one of my students to no end. Given his tendency for short solutions to long problems, he would probably transport Eb to another dimension and close the door afterward.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “But I trust you did not use one of his shortcuts as you said.”

“Trust.” Luna looked up to the brilliant moon covering the snowcovered city in a blanket of silver light. “After my betrayal, you still trust me. You spoke not when I lied to the children about the spell for their own good, nor did you send them away when I asked for them to be included. So yes, I have at least regained some of the trust I squandered, correct?”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Luna.” She gestured with a wingtip and swirled a bit of loose snow around on the balcony. “I can’t not trust you. You’re my sister. Nothing can take that away from us.”

“Our Factotum would agree, wholeheartedly,” admitted Luna. “They were apprenticed once to Starswirl, but they lacked the thick skin necessary to tolerate his attitude and refused to let the old coot break them apart. Did I tell you that Dusky kicked him in the face once?”

“No, actually.” Celestia settled back down on the floor of the balcony and tucked her wings back into place. “I presume she never apologized, and of course he never apologized, and Dawn would have taken her sister’s side like a pair of angry badgers. It explains why they left his service and turned to ours before they killed him or worse. I never asked about specifics,” said Celestia. “Didn’t want to stir up emotions over something that was said and gone, and Dusky Withers had emotions enough for five or six ponies.”

“It is good she is dead and gone for many centuries,” said Luna. “For if she heard you speak her given name—”

Celestia shuddered and quickly added, “Penumbra. She and her sister were far too bright to be in our service, and yet I remember so little of them. Although every time I see a pony with a pink stripe in their mane—”

“Like your brilliant student,” said Luna.

“Like Twilight,” agreed Celestia. She settled back down on the balcony and looked out at the quiet night for a time before breaking the silence again. “It wasn’t something that Twilight found, was it?”

“She would have told you first,” said Luna, poorly concealing a smug smile. “And we must admit, without the children to occupy Eb’s time and calm his… That is our tendency to violent confrontation, the situation would have met a tragic end far earlier. There is a great amount of thankfulness which I must repay over the next years.”

Luna produced Eb’s frail wooden betrothal box and removed the piece of gold from inside. “We admit to our ignorance. We have always found it difficult to trust in others, but we trust ourself even less. Sometimes, my Factotum found it necessary to remind me. So you could say we had help from an entirely unexpected source that I should have expected.”

She turned the sheet of gold over and let it glow for a while in the cool silver light of the moon. For a long period of time, nothing happened. Then she leaned forward, breathed across the golden page, and small crabbed letters appeared etched into the gold.

Her Rockheaded Highness. The short one. It sounds like your stupid decision worked out for the best anyway. Get Starswirl’s Seventeenth Unsolved Theorem from his sealed archives. It took my sister and me a few years, but we solved the nonnegative rational function for the closed-loop paradox and slipped it back onto the shelf. If the daft old geezer shows back up, rub it in his face for me. Anyway, that should let you send our husband back to his origin point, if you don’t mess up the tau values when casting and leave any interesting parts of his behind. Try not to screw this one up more than you did already. Penumbra.

“We used to send each other coded messages on the backs of bits,” confessed Luna while Celestia was still reading. “There may still be a few antique stores, museums, and coin collections out there in Equestria with unexpected additions to their coins.”

“I always said Dusky was an unsung genius hiding behind a scowl,” said Celestia, taking a moment to wipe her eyes. “I suspect you really do have her distant descendent to thank for your release from Nightmare Moon. Twilight Sparkle has several of Dusky’s characteristics, although not her unique sense of tact. Thankfully.”

“Which would explain Shining Armor’s appeal to one of our kind,” mused Luna under her breath.

“What?” asked Celestia.

“Nothing.” Luna put the golden page back into the box and carefully placed it to one side before leaning up against her sister. “You know we’re still going to fight at times.”

“Of course.” Celestia nudged closer. “I look forward to it. The palace has been far too quiet.”

“And I’m going to lose my temper at you,” added Luna.

“As I most certainly will in return. Or on occasion, first.” Celestia nudged her sister and looked up at the stars. “That just means we have to appreciate these moments while we have them.”

“Certes.”

There was a long, long pause, broken only by distant pegasi flying around the city on whatever errands brought them out into the cold darkness and the distant faint sounds of an outdoor winter festival.

“Hearth’s Warming is still a holiday?” asked Luna abruptly.

“Of course.” Celestia stretched one wing over her sister. “I already have my present, so no need to shop.”

“Oh, not for you,” said Luna rather quickly. “We are owed a great number of gifts for our time spent away. If you need assistance wrapping them, we would be most happy to—”

* * *

Citizens of Canterlot were used to strange events in the sky, but tonight had one stranger than any living creature had ever seen. Two alicorns rocketed through the air, breaking apart winter clouds and hurtling balls of freshly compressed snow at each other. It took hours before they tired of their play and settled down at the Winterfair for a large mug of chocolate and some mint candy canes, but their actions were copied by many children around the city for weeks afterward, despite the discouragement of their parents.

After all, children will be children, no matter how old they are.

The End

5. Like a Dark Phoenix Born

The Last Nightguard
Like a Dark Phoenix Born

“In any deployment, a Royal Guard is expected to maintain their decorum on and off duty. Altercations during leave periods are strictly forbidden and must be immediately reported to the Officer of the Day. With that in mind, guards given leave during deployments away from Canterlot are advised to go in groups.”
—Manual of the Royal Guard, Volume Two

Running all of Equestria by herself let Princess Celestia develop a sense for impending disasters, large and small. Some would take care of themself and needed to be ignored, because a size 18W hoof in the middle would just make a horrid mess. Some needed her immediate attention with the most delicate of handling, which was normally an excellent time to give Twilight Sparkle a new book out of Celestia’s stash while she was busy fixing it. Between those two extremes lay a myriad of variable problems which needed to be handled as they arose. There was no instruction manual for a princess with a set checklist for her responsibilities, or Twilight Sparkle would certainly sprout wings and ascend just to be more like her.

The day was proceeding entirely normally.

Celestia was highly suspicious.

The stallion was ‘recuperating well’ according to daily reports from the Royal Physician, with few more details. Well, far too many details, if she were to be honest about it. The slightest attempt on her regard to get more information resulted in an immense stack of paper resembling one of Twilight Sparkle’s reports, with endless sections about calcium rebinding, glucose levels, and immune system adaptation. It made excellent nighttime reading once she had lowered the moon, because she could only get through a page or two before her heavy eyes closed in self-defense.

Likewise were the verbal reports she received from the servants about Luna’s recovery. Her sister had been seen in every section of the palace except for anywhere Celestia was currently, so she was adapting to the passage of time well by getting accustomed to the vicinity, or so Celestia tried to convince herself. There had been no explosive bursts of temper, no snarling vindictive rants about being admired, and most carefully, no exposure of Luna to one particular aspect of her past.

Her delicate sister needed time to recover, time away from reminders of Nightmare Moon, and to have a bat-winged nocturnal pegasus show up suddenly… There was no way to know how she would react, so it was best they be kept under wraps for now. The nocturne could be brought back later, perhaps in a few weeks. Or a year. Luna would understand the omission was for her own good.

Still, something bothered Celestia about the physicians. They were being entirely too helpful, so she finally decided to observe the patient for herself, which turned out to be easier decided than done.

First, the patient had been moved. Then, the doctors were unsure exactly where he had been moved. Perhaps there were some tests being done, or he was outside enjoying the fresh air, or even in physical therapy. Several times she ‘had just missed him’ or ‘he never was here.’ More than once, she was encouraged to return to her critical tasks and they would call for her when he was found. In the end, she narrowed her search to an isolation ward with all sorts of mask-clad nurses keeping watch over a door with such vigor that she was tempted to enlist them all into the ranks of the Royal Guard at once.

“Doctor Hurwitz,” she began, hoping that the baggy outfit and respirator concealed the unicorn doctor in question, “just exactly why are you so intent on keeping me from your patient? And I do not mean the excuses you and your staff have been using on me for the last several hours. The real reason, before I am forced to do something I would rather not.”

To be honest, Celestia had not intended on forming her words as a threat, but frustration was building, and the doctor was a convenient non-sister release. She had never seen the elderly physician recoil from her presence before in all the years she had known him, and a small bit of the shared camaraderie between them permanently died in that motion.

“Your Highness,” he started, “your sister came to visit my patient…”

Celestia’s heart leapt into her throat, and she was unable to breathe as all of the memories of that terrible night cascaded home. When the power of Harmony swept over Nightmare Moon, the creature had reclaimed the power she had loaned her followers and more in order to fight her impending demise. Many transformed ponies had perished in the resulting bloodbath, which was as much the fault of Celestia as that damnable Nightmare. Every single Nightguard died that night along with most of their families, and if Luna had decided that Ebon Tide would be better off in the Shadowlands with his murdered brethren…

The doctor continued to talk, but Celestia had stopped listening. She moved forward, through the gathered and gowned nurses, brushing them aside like stalks of dry grass. The locked door likewise presented no obstacle to her passage other than a distinct crunching noise, and she moved into the darkened room beyond with an overwhelming terror of what she would find there.

It was far worse than she imagined.

The dark skin of the crippled stallion was even darker now, although it was growing a faint fuzziness on his naked skin rather than full hairs. Her eyes moved upward, past the shriveled limbs and protruding ribs, to the ebon expanse of thin membranous wings where naked featherless nubs coated with powdered skin had protruded before.

He was awake, and recoiled against the bed upon seeing Celestia, struggling against his straps as if to burrow into his mattress and never re-emerge. Golden split-pupil eyes met hers, eyes that showed just how intensely embarrassed he was at being naked before her, but eyes that belonged to an aware pony instead of the insane dying wretch she had expected.

“Eb,” she managed before her throat closed up.

“Go!” he hissed, writhing against his restraints with his voice dry as dust. “That demon did this to me! Kill her before she becomes the Nightmare again! Kill her!”

“No!” managed Celestia as terror nailed her hooves to the hospital floor. “She is my sister! You took an oath to protect her!”

“She attacked you!” shouted the abomination. “She let herself be turned into a monster! Kill her! Kill her before I do it for you!”

Thready muscles flexed beneath the faint fuzz of his growing coat as he thrashed in his bed, until with one gigantic heave, he tore one foreleg free of the restraints. The terrible crunch that accompanied his action left no doubt that he had broken his leg, and the odd twist to the shin only confirmed her assumption. Previous respect for her position had left the doctor and the nurses on the other side of the hospital room door, but the horrid noise and screaming drew them like a swarm of flies.

“Your Highness!” bellowed Doctor Hurwitz with his horn lit up to pull her away from the thrashing bat-winged pegasus. “What are you doing to my patient?! Out! Out!”

It had been centuries since anypony had dared use their magic against Celestia, and she fought back her instinctive reaction. One solid blow of her power would have put the elderly surgeon into the hospital as a patient or a corpse, and could not possibly make the situation any better, but her innermost child wanted so much to find an outlet for her terror. Something to smash, to destroy, to rip into shreds rather than face reality.

She allowed herself to be pushed out of the room, hearing the anguished howls of her most loyal Night Guard fade into near inaudibility as she returned to her duties.

They had not dined together since Luna’s return. Celestia had offered, but had been gently rebuffed several times. This time, she was not giving her sister the excuse.

“Good evening, dear sister.” Celestia let herself into the dining nook, with the servants scrambling to leave like rats abandoning a sinking ship. “I do regret the intrusion, but we have things to discuss.”

“Our Guard,” said Luna, pushing away her plate. “I wondered when you would push your nose into my matters.”

“Your matters?” Celestia held herself back from snapping at her sister by only the smallest of margins. “The Royal Guard are ours. Ebon Tide was the only one of his order to resist the lure of your foul magics. He returned to my side when his brethren rose to rebellion with you. The last time I saw him…” Celestia’s heart rose up into her throat, and she could hear his last words echoing in her mind as the two of them stood on a fragment of cloud over the shattered ruins of the Everfree castle.

“That thing is an abomination that needs to be destroyed.”

Ebon Tide was sincere in his loyalty, at least, and there was a distinct softening in Celestia sharp glare when she dismissed him with a curt nod of her head.

“Go. The evacuation is nearly complete, and Our forces have drawn the traitors away for the moment. I must face my sister alone.”

“But… What are your orders?” he asked, looking more like a fresh cadet than a veteran of the Guard.

“You are my last loyal Nightguard,” said Celestial quietly. “Assist with the evacuation and use your own initiative,” she added, turning on her cloud without another word and plummeting down into the shattered ruins of the palace throne room to retrieve her last hope of victory.

“I thought he died,” whispered Celestia. “My last orders to him were not orders at all. I told him to use his own initiative. That was the last I saw of him. There were so many bodies, some unrecognizable.”

“He was attempting to strike me from behind while you used the Elements upon me,” said Luna in a cold, even tone. “If that is what you wished, he followed your directions perfectly.”

“I didn’t see him!” snapped Celestia. “I didn’t tell him to attack you!”

“That’s what you were planning!” snapped Luna right back. “You sent me to my moon!”

“You killed your followers,” retorted Celestia before she could stop herself. “You drew your power out of them to fight… me. You turned Eb into one of your creatures a few days ago.” Celestia took a short, agonizing breath, trying vainly not to snarl. “What are you planning?”

“He is alive,” spat Luna. “You fain would have let him die, shriveling away and forgotten in that cold room like I was in my moon.”

For once, Celestia had no response. Luna was right. She could only stand there in front of Luna’s uneaten meal and grope frantically for words that eluded her grasp.

Luna had no such restrictions. “So many died, but he lives solely because of me,” she snarled. “When we shared the moon, my hatred kept him alive. Now, he had no strength to continue, no reason to live, until I gave him one.”

“H-he was beside himself with hate,” managed Celestia.

“Aye, and that hate will sustain him,” said Luna far slower and with less vitriol. “I am the reason he was snatched away from his family and guardians, not you. I am the reason he will live, not you. I am the one he will hate, the one who will drive him to recovery, not you.”

“You don’t understand,” said Celestia, almost pleading. “He broke his leg trying to get out of his bed in order to kill you.”

“And you think him a threat?” Luna sneered, pulling her lip back over her teeth in the way that always irritated Celestia to no end. “Shall I quake in fear at the thought of being attacked by a crippled pony who can not even get out of his own bed. Enough!” She stood up and turned for the door. “I have lost my appetite. Good eve, dear sister.”

11. Cold Victory

The Last Nightguard
Cold Victory

“Legal services for Royal Guard employees is provided through the personnel office at a reasonable rate for events such as home purchases, minor legal problems, and other such occasions where you need support.”
—Legal Aide Services - Here When You Need Us

Three words bound the world, harder than diamonds to say, and yet others made it look so easy. They were words that Luna had never heard her sister say, although she had to admit a certain lack of the same. Breaking a mountain would have been easy by comparison, or smiting King Sombra and his helmeted minions, although that too was done with her sister at her side. A single witness would have driven Luna back into the shadows, even a mouse, but she had timed her confession for an hour in the morning when Celestia would be separated from her duties.

“Thou wert right.”

There was silence in the small room, broken only by the faint rustling of paper. Then Celestia’s calm voice whispered, “Luna? What are you doing in the bathroom?”

“Apologizing.” Luna shuffled her hooves, trying not to look at the guilty mare who looked back at her from all of the room’s mirrors. “We are bad at it. Insufficient practice, I suppose.”

“I… might say the same.” The sound of flushing came from Celestia’s stall and her sister slowly emerged, moving carefully in the close confines of the small room. Everything in this new world was too small for Luna’s comfort, which must have been so much more uncomfortable for her larger sister. There was no reason why Celestia could not have constructed the palace to her larger dimensions… except all of their subjects would have been uncomfortable, like foals in a world of adult ponies.

Luna was feeling very much like a foal now, humiliated more than if she had wet the bed.

“Wash your hooves. Our Guard says it is a habit of the modern age,” she said reflexively to divert her mind from such morose musing. There was more that needed to be said, and Luna forced herself onward no matter how much the words tasted like lunar dust in her mouth. “There are a great number of things which We are ignorant of, and the road back to the respect of Our subjects is going to be long and rough. To discard advice from others, and particularly to turn my back on you is the mark of a weak pony.”

“You’re not weak, Luna.” Celestia hesitated in front of the sink before forcing herself to turn on the water tap and begin her ablutions rather than face her sister. It was the mark of a pony trapped by tradition, walking the fine line between extremes like Celestia had always managed. The last thousand years had not changed those habits in the least. The Sun had remained constant and dependable while Moon had flailed about like…

“I’m the weak one,” admitted Celestia just barely audible above the sound of running water. “Blind and weak. I turned my back on you once and it cost me far too much. Now, I’m doing it again. Going around your wishes. Hiding my decisions from you. Making decisions without your council.”

“We do not trust our own decisions in this matter any more,” said Luna directly, even though it felt as if she were speaking words made out of shattered glass that sliced her throat and tongue with every sound. “Our Guard, flawed as he is, hath greater wisdom than mine own.”

Luna did not want to admit her interactions with the young Peanut Brittle, who had proven herself wiser than both of her exceedingly ancient companions. It was sufficient that Celestia know of Luna’s regret. Besides, it was highly probable that Celestia would disapprove of a foal offering advice to her sister, and the last thing Peanut needed was that kind of pressure when her life should be filled with the pleasures of carefree youth. Leave the pain and misery to the old. She would grow into it far too soon.

“Ebon Tide…” Celestia quietly turned off the tap and turned around with exceeding caution so she did not hit any of the walls in the small room. “My intentions were good, but my decisions nearly destroyed him twice now. Condemning him to death by neglect was not the act of a compassionate princess. Far worse, I did it to protect you, but caused you such terrible pain instead. I was so cruel that I would have seen him die rather than cause you trouble in this modern era.”

“It is the role of our Guard to die for us,” said Luna bluntly. “They do that which we cannot. I… have finally come to believe that Ebon Tide was not sent to attack me, by your intent or his accidental twisting of your command. That was his own decision, the last he has been permitted to make. We have usurped his will far worse than you. We took away his choice in his own life. Both of us are guilty.”

“A lifetime of soap and water cannot scrub away the blood.” Celestia wiped a damp hoof across her forehead, pushing back enough of her glowing mane that Luna could see both eyes for a change, although she barely could work up the willpower to look her sister in the face as Celestia continued on. “I tried. Stars know, I tried. When I finally recovered from our battle, I wanted to hate you, put all the blame on you alone, but there had been too much blood shed for me to elude the guilt of my decision. Worse, as time went on, the survivors had only one physical pony remaining to credit for saving them from a terrible fate, and they blamed you far more than I ever could. It pained me that your good works were so quickly forgotten while the Nightmare stayed in our subjects’ minds, so I worked on changing your legacy. Over time, I changed the Nightmare into a legend, a fable, a story told by the fireside. Then after a few centuries, the stories were all that remained, and the foals believed in your new role with all their hearts.”

“The Candy Princess,” said Luna with a tiny spark of light forming in her dark thoughts. Celestia jerked as if she had been pricked by a pin, and she looked up with wide, startled eyes.

“You know?”

“I was told by a very small spy,” admitted Luna. “We are not certain how positive this portrayal is, because the candy that I sampled is cloyingly sweet. Still, it is a responsibility held most seriously by the youth of this time, so we shall strengthen our gullet and persevere. You may remain the Princess of Cake,” she added quickly. “Please.”

The bathroom remained quiet for a time as two princesses relished their fleeting moments as sisters once again. Then Celestia let out her breath, closed her eyes, and ever so slowly began to shake her head. “I’ve led this nation for centuries in your absence, trying to shape my decisions as if you were still standing beside me. That false image is all I could cling to in my darkest times, and I’m totally unprepared for what comes now. Where do we go from here, Luna?”

“I know not.” Luna stamped one hoof, making a sharp noise in the small room. “Our breast is still filled to overflowing with rage over real and imagined slights. It makes my skin crawl and my rest fleeting. The longer I am within your presence, the stronger it becomes.”

Celestia did not say anything, but the strained expression that swept over her face spoke louder than words.

“No, not the Nightmare,” said Luna firmly. “That was a burning of envy and desire until my whole body felt engulfed in flames. This is more… like a bathroom visit long delayed.”

“I suppose that is an improvement,” said Celestia very slowly. “And we are in an appropriate location to discuss such things.”

There was a faint tapping at the bathroom door and a guard called out quietly as if he did not want to be heard, and particularly did not want to come inside to ask the question. “Princess? Are you okay?”

“I shall be right out,” said Celestia as an obvious reflex, although she turned back to Luna almost immediately. “Unless you want me to take the day off and spend it with you.”

“No.” Luna could not keep her eyes from taking in Celestia’s obvious signs of stress, from the faint lines of tense muscles in her face to the way she had obviously cut short her grooming this morning. “Go forth and bring peace to our subjects. No doubt they have a multitude of questions, none of which I feel like answering at this time. Lie to them in my stead, please.”

“It is not considered lying anymore. It is phrasing an answer to provide the listener an assumption that varies in some degree from the real world. It is diplomacy,” Celestia added.

“Go diplomacy then,” said Luna, who had to close her eyes to keep from thinking about how she would act when surrounded by the nattering nitwits that seemed to infect the court in such vast array, a constant that had undoubtedly followed her through the ages. “I am sick of lies. Besides, I have need of these facilities once you have departed.”

* * *

“It has been decided,” started Luna once she returned to the hospital room. There was not any immediate response, so she remained standing in the middle of the tile floor, watching the sheet across Ebon Tide’s frail body rise and fall ever so slightly with his respiration.

At least he still lived. Had Eb passed away while Luna was abasing herself to Celestia… She did not want to think about it, much like she did not bring up the fate of Nightmare Moon’s creations in the present day, or what exactly being the Princess of Candy entailed for duties. Evasion did not become a princess, but Luna was stepping back into her duties with ginger tread, and such things took time.

It was unwise to rush things, much like she had attempted to rush Ebon Tide’s recovery with her foolish… No, her corrupted magic. Her Guard was only one pony. Had she made such a mistake with her subjects as a whole, the disaster of Nightmare Moon could play out all over again.

A chill swept over her, a cold that went straight for the bones regardless of the cheerful beam of Sun that poured in through the hospital room window. It reminded her of another wonder, since she was used to glass being precious, lumpy and colored with streaks at best. This was so pure and clear it was almost like air had been captured and held by magic. Her own corrupted self should have likewise been cleansed by her long isolation, stepping forth from the colorful fire of the Elements of Harmony as a new mare much like this modern glass, and probably as fragile. Only fire could cleanse impurities by destroying them, and there was so much about her corrupted nature that a proper fire would leave naught but ash, or perhaps an innocent foal with no memories of her past. Instead, she remained just as foul and more fragile than glass, wandering through this new world in search of a hammer to end her existence.

The thought only brought more stress to her life, since there was so much unknown in the world for her to blunder into. Perhaps it would have been better if she had remained in her beloved Moon forever.

“Certainly.”

Luna jerked to her hooves, glancing in all directions before settling on directing her ire at two glowering golden eyes peering out from under Ebon Tide’s bedsheet.

“Take me with you,” he rasped. “Somepony must share your cell in order to guard your imprisonment, and it might as well be me. Every pony I knew before is dead, and the guards of this era are blithering incompetents. There is naught left for me in this life.”

“We were not intending to speak aloud,” she managed levelly.

“If you were speaking to yourself, you should speak quieter.” Ebon Tide poked his head out from under the sheet and flicked one ear, which had just begun to be covered by a fine coat of grey hairs like the rest of his wrinkled dark body. “If you did not want me to listen, you should not have given me such sharp ears with your infernal spell. I can hear everything, from the noises out in the streets to the nurses in the corridor flirting with the Guard whenever they are around.”

“Oh.” Luna’s initial fear settled down into a dark lump in her belly. “At least one thing has not changed.”

“Or the race of ponies would have died out,” continued Ebon Tide, still sounding terribly dry. He accepted the glass of water that Luna retrieved for him without comment, much like it was traditional for a Dread Sovereign to serve one of her Guards like a slave.

Then again, Luna had not seen any slaves at all since being freed from Nightmare Moon’s influence. It was a relief that the practice had become at least less popular, but still one more difference that made this modern world press down upon her like a great weight as if she did not belong anywhere, much like Eb had stated.

“Thank you,” said Ebon Tide through gritted teeth as if he were having some sort of pain in his gut. “The nurses treat me like some sort of potted plant. It is good to have a familiar face here, even if it is yours.”

“Your thanks are not needed. They are appreciated, though. It is… good to have… I cannot call that a familiar face,” she finally admitted. “And I cannot change it back.”

“I live. Without your interference, I would have died,” he said bluntly. “Stuffed full of tubes and medicine until I slipped away. I would be with my wife and children, but I would leave you unprotected in this strange world.”

“Protected?” Despite her best effort, Luna’s left eyebrow lifted slightly. “Against what, angry mice?”

Ebon Tide rose up from the bed, wrapped the sheet around his torso like some sort of Roaman noble, and called out, “Master of the Post! Report! NOW!”

The chubby Guard managed to make it through the doorway without falling down, although it was a close thing with as many directions his hooves were flying when he made the corner.

“Specialist Crupper, First House Division,” snapped Eb before the hapless Guard managed to skid to a halt with a few feathers floating to the ground in his wake. “Your worthless carcass is still assigned to protect Her Highness?”

“Yes! I mean yes, sir!” Crupper saluted so hard that his forehoof rebounded off his helmet with a sharp clang and a few sparks.

“You were talking with the nurse at the end of the hallway a few drips ago,” continued Eb. “Distracted from your duties. Still not wearing your armor correctly. Where is your superior officer?”

“Captain Ramparts is due to return to the city tomorrow,” said Crupper quickly, ruffling his wings.

“I want him here first thing after he lands. No, make that before he lands!” barked Eb. “We are going to have a talk about your attitude and your future. Dismissed! Back to your duty and if I hear one word between you and the nurses—” thin dark lips peeled back from Eb’s bloody gums, showing the tips of bright white teeth “—you will be posted so far north that the windigo will look attractive!”

“Yessir!” Crupper reversed his position with a flurry of wings and bounced off the hospital room door, taking three attempts before vanishing back out into the hallway and his post, which he presumably was going to pay far more attention to for at least the next few hours.

Ever so slowly, Ebon Tide collapsed back onto his pillow, breathing heavily.

“I could have done that,” muttered Luna.

“Your authority is barely fledged and completely different from your sister.” Eb waved a weak forehoof at Luna’s wings. “You rule, that is true, but the Guard follows orders according to our oath. Should you order a Guard to slay a child, for example, you should expect him to tell you exactly where you can stick that order. If a superior in the Guard were to issue that same order… Well, I should hope the result would be the same, but with more thought as to why exactly such an order would be given. After all, the superior officer has more experience, a greater responsibility for those beneath him, and greater consequences for his failures. Guards are Guards, Princesses are Princesses.”

“Yet we give the orders,” said Luna quietly.

“And we bleed for them,” said Eb. “To our last breath, to the last drop of blood in our bodies, to the end of our days we shall serve thee. Forsaking all other oaths and titles we shall serve thee. No harm shall we allow, no blight upon your honor shall besmirch the Crown while we stand, united in your defense as brothers through life and unto death.”

Luna said nothing, but her thoughts whirled back to the ranks of Guards she had seen take the oath since the birth of Equestria. Guards who had lived and died to protect her, regardless of her present worth.

Eb continued, “Each Guard, even that pathetic example, takes its authority from Guards above it according to rank and seniority, right up to the top.” He stifled a short snort against his forehoof. “I scarcely can think of another Guard with more seniority than myself.”

“Truth.” Luna could feel the hot iron wires of tension running down her back begin to ease. “You have been a Guard for quite nearly as long as we established the order. You must have a considerable amount of back pay—"

One thing Luna had always been good with was numbers.

“Beg pardon.” She stood abruptly and turned for the hospital room door. “We must see the Royal Exchequer at once.”

“Don’t mind me,” said Ebon Tide. He took a drink from the glass that Luna had left by his bedside, then settled down on his pillow again as the room became emptier. “I’ll just be lying here, plotting your deserved demise. After a nap. Or two.”

He was not awake when Princess Luna cornered the Royal Exchequer, but he should have been able to hear the distant scream of terror anyway.