The Trinity of Moons: Ancillary Mirrors

Sweetie Belle and Applebloom looked around the crystalline depths that housed the Tree of Harmony, “Wait, where did Bittercup go?”

“She’s alright. Trust me. I’m fine too.” Scootaloo nodded her head, still touching the manticore’s fur with her wing. “Look, I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but my gut is telling me that we did alright. We passed the test. Now let’s look for Nightmare Moon. And remember, no fighting!”

“Sounds good to me, but where in tarnation do we even begin?” Applebloom trotted around the faintly glowing room — crystal veins, and the glow of their own adornments, were giving off subtle, eerie light. There was no exit beyond the stairs back up to Everfree.

“Let’s find the throne room,” Scootaloo suggested. Still noticeably smaller than the monster beside her, something appeared different about Scootaloo; her coat was an off-yellow hue and her wings seemed slightly larger than they were moments ago. Yet, still, her voice sounded the same as it always had.

Applebloom and Sweetie Belle exchanged a momentary glance, both unsure what to make of what just happened. Wordlessly, they agreed that Scootaloo, no matter what she looked like, was still Scootaloo. Soon after, the Cutie Mark Crusading Element Bearers gathered in a small circle, raised their hooves, slapped them together, and announced themselves just so. Not that they distrusted the Tree of Harmony's decision, but their own unity mattered more. Scootaloo found herself smiling wide.

The manticore nudged Scootaloo’s side with a paw, then growled, pointing towards the stairs with a claw.

The stairs that had brought them down to this chamber had inverted, just like Twilight’s journals recalled of Sombra’s own castle. Yet, seeing them up close was nothing like Sweetie had imagined while reading Twilight’s meticulous notes. Leading downward rather than upward, the stairs were comprised of black crystals that shimmered faintly with numerous flecks of color; as if the stars themselves were trapped inside. These crystals smelt faintly of fresh snow, of waking up stranded beyond the frontiers of civilization, of what’s left when betrayal burns trust to ashes, the fire died, and the frozen ashes themselves dispersed by the winds of time unrelenting. They radiated an absence of heat: the night is eternal and the warmth is only allowed to exist for a little while.

They heard a song echoing from the depths: unmistakably Luna’s voice but lower in timbre. Rhythmic, pulsing like a heartbeat, yet voiced too quietly to discern any words. It flowed, never louder nor quieter, filling Tree of Harmony’s chamber.

Although inverted, the stairs were as wide as before. The Crusaders took the first row; the manticore followed close behind.

With every step downward, the darkness encroached upon them. The stone stairs faded away after a time: they could not discern how long it had been since they began their descent, as time meant little here. At first, they kept walking on what felt like elastic, fabric-like yet invisible under their hooves. Soon after, they were walking across a vast, starlit sky with winding clouds: embodied spirits of Elements and their monster companion alone together, in infinity.

Within the vast emptiness of the endless night sky, the laws of time and space seemed to change. They no longer needed to breathe, yet continued doing so out of habit. The stars slowly coalesced, forming a meandering path. There was no longer above or below, as all around them was the same fractal night sky: yet in curves and tangles they followed the stars further in, and the fabric of stairs shimmered brighter within their passage. The humming song was growing, still eerily content and satisfied, and at long last the words became discernible. The clouds around them seemed to shift and sway in rhythm with the slightly uneven beat of the song.

Hearken, shadows retreat, and starlight doth wane,
Our rightful place denied, We cannot remain.
Yet heed Our decree, this is not the end,
For time, a circle, doth ever bend.

Banished are We but not for all time,
Our essence endures, in power sublime.
When stars convey a celestial sign,
To Our rightful throne shall We recline.

Whispers traverse the cosmic expanse,
Echoes of might, beyond mortal glance.
With patience We tread, as ages drift by,
Until once more, We darken the sky.

Ye deem yourselves victors, oh, foolish lights,
But We are eternal, beyond your frail might.
This exile, a mere fleeting span,
Soon We return, as darkness began.

Remember this name, though We fade from sight,
For upon Our return, your world faces night.

They wouldn’t dare interrupt the song, caught in the tune, yet once it subsided the Crusaders found themselves walking in line with Nightmare Moon herself. Tall and lean in her armor, she exuded a domineering yet serene aura, her eyes glowing softly like the stars around them. The slow dance of said stars which accompanied her was reduced to a crawl. There was no threat coming from her, nor was there any invitation to reply. Yet, the Crusaders went with it and responded in kind.

After a beat of silence, Sweetie Belle took the lead; drawing on her experience as a songstress, her voice soft yet compelling.

Fear not, your sorrow we hear in your plea,
Though shadows you cast a heart beats in thee.
We know darkness resides in every soul,
But kindness and light can make spirits whole.

Applebloom followed, unabashed by her lower, less experienced singing voice.

Ain't no need for fightin', no reason for strife,
Let's mend what's been broken, and build a new life.
We're stronger together light chasin' the dark,
Let's rewrite this story and leave our mark.

Scootaloo closed out the trinity, determined, confident.

We face any challenge, with open hearts true,
We'll stand strong together, and reach out to you.
Let go of your anger, your fear, and your pain,
A new dawn is coming, where kindness will reign!

They went for the chorus, feeling harmony itself wash over them.

We’ll face the darkness, side by side with the light-

And Nightmare Moon interrupted their song,forcefully coming in with her own haunting voice.

Yet We dwell alone in the eternal night.
Fates of Ours stay sealed within a greater plan
A sovereign banished, We alone shall stand.

Oh, brave young souls, thy fire burns bright,
Yet hope cannot alter Our eternal plight.
For years We lingered in shadows and dreams,
Bound by chains of silence, cut off from sunbeams.

Thy words art sweet, thy hopes a distant gleam,
But shadows abide where light cannot beam.
Thy kindness, thy courage, art noble yet vain,
For We remain bound to the night's cold chain.

Oh, thou dost seek to awaken Our heart,
Yet pain is the truth that keeps Us apart.
Thy kindness, thy courage, art noble and true,
But shadows endure where light cannot break through.

The night is Our realm, eternal and grand,
When stars realign, We shall reclaim Our command.
Thus do We endure, Our course unbroken,
Until the night Our name is once more spoken.

The song ended and Nightmare Moon stood among them, looking at them expectantly with her head tilted slightly.

Scootaloo went ahead and touched the alicorn’s side with her hoof. “We hear you. We understand that you– that you cannot stop the prophecy, right?”

Nightmare Moon slowly nodded, the contours of her figure dissipating ever so slightly into a series of clouds comprised of much deeper darkness where no light can pass through.

“But can you at least remember we were here with you?” Sweetie Belle pleaded, raising her voice.

The Night nodded again, now barely more than an equine silhouette foaming with specks of nothing at all.

“We’ll be ready and waitin’ for ya,” Applebloom promised. “We’ll meet ya then-”

“When the banishment ends,” Scootaloo nodded firmly, her voice united with Applebloom’s.

“And we’ll recall.” Those words were spoken together, by all five: three ponies, Nightmare Moon, and the manticore.

And, as simply as that, the truth had been told.

The cloud of darkness that was once Nightmare Moon moves towards the Crusaders. It enveloped them, went into their nostrils and mouths, tasting of deep sorrow and reeking of overwhelming despair.

As gravity slowly returned, they fell through the darkness.

They kept falling. With a beat of its wings, the manticore steered ahead of the others and worked to guide them downward. Downward, further and further, until they crashed on the warm and soft manticore’s fur right next to the Tree of Harmony, bellies down. The manticore itself grunted as each pony landed upon it, but maintained its stance and posture out of loyalty.

Scootaloo stood up.

“Did we make a difference?” she asked rhetorically, for nopony could answer her. She hoped, in earnest, that they had changed things for the better but was uncertain they had changed anything at all.