“How could you choose to serve Princess Luna instead of Princess Celestia, Featherdust?”
“The Princess Luna asks for little, hardly complains, and protects us just as much as her sister.”
“That’s not fair to Her Majesty, Princess Celestia—”
“Who else stood for us before Discord? There was more than one pony present that day. Perhaps you are not old enough to remember, but I am.”
“And Princess Luna is young enough to be your daughter.“
“And she is still our princess.”
“Your princess, Featherdust. I am happy to serve the sun… and I simply cannot understand why you would choose the night.”
“Somepony must, and should. She is a princess. It is her right to be loved and cared for.”
“And I believe it is my right to say you care too much for one who has done little to warrant such love… Besides, you belong with us in the day. The others miss you dearly.”
“I am content with where I stand. And I am happy to serve my princess.”
Her princess had summoned her.
It was not a slight to Featherdust: she had, after all, sworn by oath to serve her liege.
Princess Luna was kind, loyal, and always said what was on her mind. As of late, she’d been slipping, but that had hardly been any cause for concern to Featherdust: Luna was prone to these emotional dives. She couldn’t possibly imagine what it felt like to be in her position.
Featherdust served her princess, and her princess served her.
It was a fair, and happy friendship.
She hoped.
“Featherdust, fetch for us our silvers.“
She bowed, trotted dutifully to where the jewelries awaited, and lifted the trunk to her princess.
It was much lighter than she recalled.
“Open it.”
She gently unclasped it. The lid curled up through the silent chamber.
“Princess… it appears you have been thieved.“
“Nay. But its losses are to be furthered. Pluck as you will from its contents.”
Featherdust snapped rigid. “But I—”
“Thou can, and shall. We have no further need for the materialistic.”
It was a rare demand.
Featherdust dove precariously into the ghastly gorge of the box. Much had already been pilfered, but she settled on a thin and light necklace she knew well: silver chains. She draped them across her wingtips, and stared into the blue reflections of the room.
“Your Majesty, forgive me, but this gift…” She glanced up. “It speaks of heartbreak.”
The princess’ ear twitched in listening.
“I have loved, and I have lost. You vanquished the Lord Discord, but what he took from me could not be returned. I am reminded of these times.“
Both of Princess Luna’s ears cowed down and out. “Then we are well-aware these plans will sorely disappoint.”
“What plans do you dwell on, Your Majesty?”
“Ill-prepared thoughts formed in my dreams. But we see little choice left.”
“I can do nothing to sway you from this, Princess Luna?”
“Nay.“
“Then I will not fight you.”
The relief was palpable in the way the princess’ chest rose with restrained breath. But there was an unmistakable tightness. Perhaps, Featherdust considered, she should fight.
But this fight had long passed the realm of her abilities; this was a fight that ought have occurred long ago. Featherdust... no, everypony, was too late.
“I am sorry that I am destined this way, my Dust.”
“The fault was our own, Princess Luna.”
“Take no blame for what is to come... it is only hope that will see us through.”
Destruction.
Her subjects were scattered to the tents and fires frantically erected on the fringes of the feral forest. This could not last. Reinforcements would come to their aid, but the night had almost passed completely. This terrible, terrible night.
The night... Celestia realized too late that she truly wished to put this behind her.
She shielded herself with a wing from the worry wrongly addressed to her.
“Pardon me, Your Majesty.”
The Princess turned, and was unable to warm her voice. “What is it?” she coldly croaked.
“...One of Princess Luna’s servants was seen with silvers upon her. What shall we make of her?”
Celestia’s heart flicked. “Her only servant. Where is Miss Featherdust?”
“We have not taken action, Your Majesty. She is just before the gatehouse.”
“I must speak with her.”
She strode quickly. Too quickly. She was upon the mare in moments, looming like a hulking monster from the Everfree. Because to be this cruel, she had to have been.
Celestia softened as much as she could for her former maiden. “Featherdust...”
“It was a gift to us,” the mare responded briskly. Her gaze bored into the silver chains draped over her. And Celestia’s golden reflection. “From our princess dearly departed.”
“Who all has received these gifts?”
“The cook who plied her with treats. The gardener who tended to her favored flowers. The guard who always volunteered to remain vigilant on the many, many long nights alone in her study. More. But few. They were all who cared.”
Celestia made another swift step. “My dear Feather—“
“No.”
Celestia stepped back.
Silence.
“My name passes your calling.”
With steady wings, Featherdust rose from the broken cobblestones. The guards flanking the sun princess eyed Featherdust warily as she looked up to meet Celestia’s gaze.
“I, Maiden Moondust, will ensure you carry this weight for as long as I feel the wind on this earth.”
Princess Celestia did not immediately break eye contact. But she relented, and bowed her head low to the earth.
“It is the guilt I deserve… Maiden Moondust.”
“It is the future you have sealed in stone, Your Majesty.”
Moondust turned her back on Princess Celestia, instead facing the ruins of the castle she had served to its end.
And just beyond it, her princess’ moon descended, unseen.
Behind her, she heard the dreadfully familiar sound of the day’s magic.
Moondust did not speak until the first sunrise of the new age had risen.
“May your kingdom live long, and prosper.”
