The Trinity of Moons: Ancillary Mirrors

There is no exit from the tower except a few long-winded stairs with high guardrails. Normally my wings would qualify too, but Tempest asks me to refrain from using them. “I don’t want to be unfriendly,” she says, “But I will, if necessary.”

Tempest launches an array of color-coded magic flares exploding into the wide blue sky. I don’t recognize the message but I sense that, surprisingly, the framework is the same as that which the Trinity of Moons supported for a lot of histories. Three opening flashes, then a longer pause, then the actual message, with each one separated not by a second, nor a half-second — it was precisely a third of a beat. That can’t be a coincidence. And the violet-green-purple as the standard ‘end of report’ flag.

Soon a fluttercraft gently descends, dropping down from the airship to us, royal blue with a mirrored copy of the Diarchy emblem on all four of its inflatables. Tempest watches over us as we climb the steep pinewood ramp, then another, to enter the middle cabin. She invites us to sit on the cushions there. Both have tightly woven canvas covers and a core of springy felt, yet the one on the right would get the Sun glaring in my face. I crawl onto the left cushion to look through a porthole at Canterlot down below. Quartz makes a jump to sit next to me. She’s smaller, a little younger than me but never deterred by this. When she’s with me, I brush her a little with my right wing, if only just to feel her there with me.

As the fluttercraft takes a dive from the tower, I feel much lighter for a few beats until Tempest coughs. “I am Tempest Shadow, the overseer for the Bureau of the Anticipated Transition Strategies,” she explains, “You are not under arrest, fillies.”

“We have our cutie marks,” Stylus remarks. “On duty, technically, you cannot address us by this word. That regulation has not been actively enforced for forty years at least, but it remains in place. While at first instance I took it as a mistake…” he keeps going as our vehicle assumes its altitude and direction.

I turn to him, intending to stop the rambling: no reason to annoy the unicorn we know nothing about. Tempest listens to him intently, nodding her head on occasion. Though she’s keeping a serious expression, I notice her struggling to hold back a smile. I imagine she’s more amused at how rehearsed Stylus’ rebukes sound rather than what he’s actually saying. He has that effect on adults sometimes.

Before I can interrupt, Quartz bites my ear, holds it and turns my head to the porthole again. I squirm while she keeps pulling.

At first I thought she wanted to show me the giant, thin rainbow wings of our vehicle. They are just doing another gorgeous flap, sending colored patterns through our cabin. But then I see it.

Down below, beyond the thick glass and hard-oak frame of the porthole, just above another fluttercraft — thanks to it I can sense the scale — a dragon hovers nearby. At least elephant-sized, light blue in color with an intricate pattern of much brighter glittering scales on their back. Their wings, so translucent that I can easily see the bright white of lesser towers through them, move ever so slightly as if the dragon was content to simply stay in the skies over the capital. A few pegasi and batponies are buzzing around the dragon, like paper models over the gorgeous creature, showing no fear as they circle the gracious stretched form, the long swan-like neck, the cuneal head. At least one of them always stays a little ahead of the dragon, guiding them to what, I quickly estimated, has to be the very center of Canterlot.

Minutes pass — not quite a slice, before the fluttercraft slowly descends towards our yet unknown destination. Our course keeps the dragon in view the entire ride. I cannot stop smiling. I came here to see the dragons and I finally saw one, with my own eyes. What more could I want?

The reverie fades as a small choir of voices in my head reminds me of our situation. We still have lost Bittercup, and, worse still, The Red is coming. In my memories, I have seven myselves either murdered or crippled by it. They see the opportunity, I’m here for them to voice it.

I turn to Tempest who now sits across from Stylus, the two of them facing each other. While I have been fascinated by the dragon, they’ve found some connection. Their brief discussion on civilian laws ended and now they’re playing 6x6 checkers. Only a few moves have been made, yet Tempest pretends to struggle, sticking her tongue out a little.

“Tempest,” I wait until she turns her head to me, after her next turn on the checkers board. “I have to say: we lost a friend Celestia knows where, I’m not from this world, the sun is dying, and there is an awful monster coming in a few lusters– I mean, months! That’s, like, it won’t be autumn yet when the Moonrise…”

“Lusters, you say. The Moonrise, you say.” she narrows her eyes, “Yes, Lure, we know most of that. Most of that, the Red included. Not that there’s much left to be done: all we can do is work to lessen the impact. Also, it’s not Princess Celestia who knows where your friend might have gone. Rather, Princess Luna. We’re going to meet her.”

“B-but– how do you know?” I ask, startled and confused. “How- where- who could tell you?!”

“What do you know about the dragons?” she asks back.

Stylus answers instead, in a tone I know well. “They are gorgeous, powerful, they can steal princesses, and they hoard what they want. They come in five subspecies, namely bipedal, wingless, royal, colossal and ephemeral. Wyverns though should not be counted among dragons. They have an agreement with the Diarchy to let their misbehaving younglings settle in Equestrian Badlands.” When he speaks like this, he is actually reading aloud from a book in his mind; he sees the font, the illustrations, the texture of the cover, small reflections of the ambient light on the pages. That’s why he has a habit of getting carried away sometimes. He trusted us enough to let us know of this quirk a few years ago.

“Right, except the princesses part. That one is something of a myth, or a joke, implanted by Princess Celestia to justify her affair.” Tempest smiles a little, and I hear Quartz’s quiet gasp. I feel my face and ears getting hot as I try to not focus on the implications.

Tempest doesn’t make it easier on me when she adds, “Before you ask, no, kirins aren’t born from that affair. Don’t trust those rumors. The name of one of the subspecies, however, is.“ She holds a hoof up in silence, openly grinning, then gets serious. “Anyway… Their hoarding isn’t usually caused by greed either — they gather collections. As collection keepers, they are truly meticulous. Each unique bit, every historic hornring or chalice - you don’t take a single thing from a dragon hoard unless you’ve grown tired of living.”

She looks at us and finishes slowly, “Especially whole timelines — treasures of treasures upon treasures. Cubic treasures you might say, Lure.” She turns back to Stylus, moves a checker with a tip of her hoof. “Let’s see what message your arrival carries to us.”

Princess Luna led the Crusaders, accompanied by Bittercup, along the night road heading away from Twilight’s castle. “Deeply have we delved into the wellspring of the young one's anxieties,” Luna said, “and the portents we have uncovered do stir unease. Through reaching us, the little one received a vision — a potent dream, lengthy, intricate, and fraught with terror. It lingered, stretching on for what seemed like days within its confines, ensuring she grasped the gravity of the threat. We were capable of reaching the vision and overseeing it ourselves. This Nightmare Moon of whom she speaks bears semblance both to the malevolent entity your elder siblings vanquished with the Elements of Harmony, and to a consequence, unforeseen, of that fateful act.”

“Will she return again?” Scootaloo asked.

“Oh, oh my!” Sweetie Belle jumped in place, excited, “Are we going to be the heroines this time around? Please say yes, Princess!”

“Yep,” Applebloom smiled, “‘Bout time. We're already ‘round the age our sisters were back then.”

Luna laughed, with a small undertone of sadness. “Indeed, my mentees. We do believe you will play a most pivotal role in what has to be done.”

“I- I haven’t failed after all…?” Bittercup asked meekly.

“Verily, far less fraught would this endeavor be had your arrival graced us eight years and a week past,” Luna answered, “Yet we have hope still. Firstly, know that Nightmare Moon's return manifests not in our age, rather in a realm profoundly removed, shrouded by dozens and dozens of alternate destinies. Furthermore, upon that forsaken plane, her triumph is absolute, an immutable truth woven into the very fabric of that reality. To challenge her there is to court inevitable defeat as from the travel she returns victorious.”

“Then what should I do here?” Bittercup’s voice became a tad more urgent, her golden eyes shined brighter in the night.

Looking at her, Scootaloo felt dizzy again, and felt an inexplicable urge to flap her otherwise ineffective wings, but she suppressed the latter feeling — it was causing too much pain to be reminded of her disability — and replied brightly, “Don’t you worry, we’ll find something for you in this time, if we hurry up and stay all together. You see, I’m up for taking down any monster we can find!”

Luna nodded. “'We', my dear filly, is surely the more apt pronoun in this instance," Luna corrected Bittercup gently, “This is a burden, and an honour, you shall not bear alone.” She spread her wings, encompassing all three mares and the filly as her voice raised, “To the Tree of Harmony we must venture and ascertain if the Elements can be, if only fleetingly, attuned to you, my mentees. That way you may yet reach Nightmare Moon in these nascent moments when her travel has only just begun.”

Her melodic voice dropped back an octave when she concluded, “Alas, in this endeavor, We cannot accompany you to the very heart of the matter. A peril clings to our presence, a siren’s call that might well draw us back into the clutches of Nightmare. We shall stay away for that part. Furthermore, another shadow stirs-”

She kneeled before Bittercup, and dragged Scootaloo closer with her wing..

“Twilight Sparkle, knowledgeable as she is, revealed a truth most curious - that reality binds you two together as one. Thus, a choice presents itself: only one of you must remain, if only for a time; or we must hasten with all possible speed; or you must embrace the unity. You must make the choice before it is made for you.”

Scootaloo shook her head. While that sounded ominous… She was fine. “Why us?” Scootaloo inquired. Not that she was afraid of adventure. She simply was… less enthusiastic about it. Then, somepony should look over her friends, shouldn’t they? “Why not the Element Bearers as they are?”

“Because your voices, unique as they are amongst ponies, possess the quality of carrying clearly through the veils of time. Only you and Nightmare Moon herself have the gift to pass through these barriers unscathed.”

“On to the Everfree then?” Scootaloo suggested, reluctantly assuming leadership.

“Right now! Time is of the essence!” Sweetie Belle chimed.

Applebloom trotted quickly, past the other Crusaders. “Last one there’s gotta give the pigs a bath!”

Luna watched, a twinkle of pride shone in her eyes, as her faithful mentees hurried onward to adventure. After taking a moment of consideration, she followed behind them.

“Wait…” Bittercup turned to Luna, her voice small and confused. “What are these Elements of Harmony? The Moon mentioned them when she told me what to write in a letter…” She shivered, fear evident in her voice, “Before I got here, I mean… but she didn’t explain.”

“You don’t know?!” Sweetie Belle stopped, surprised.

“We’ll explain on the way. That’s a long and cool story. It’ll help pass the time.” Scootaloo promised, keeping the upbeat.

“Okay…” Bittercup muttered, and hurried to the team’s row. “And… look, this is all out of the blue, but — you have Ogres and Oubliettes in your world? I love it so much! I’d like to run a game with you all…!” Cheerful for that moment, she deflated soon, “I mean… after we do this Nightmare Moon quest.”

"Be thee assured," Luna mirthfully chuckled, "this fair game doth lie within our grasp, and we ourselves stood among those who did conceive and bring it to fruition."

Bittercup stepped over to her; others, surprised a little, slowed then stopped. “And… have you ever felt like it… like it happens around you?” The filly’s words hushed, her eyes wide as she gazed at Luna waiting for her reply.

Princess Luna returned the look, considering her answer. “Allow us to say that we had our reasons to devise it.”