Moondog

Chapter Seven: Nightmares And Mercy

~BlackRoseRaven

Luna flailed furiously at the air, then gasped as she snapped awake, blinking dumbly as she looked back and forth before wincing when a large hoof dropped on her shoulder, and an impossible voice said warmly: “Calm down, sister, it was just a nightmare!”

“What?” Luna looked dumbly over her shoulder, feeling something fall askew on her head, realizing she was sitting back in a cushioned carriage. But it was the sight of him that took her breath away for a moment: a massive chestnut earth pony with a mane and tail of vines, and the warmest, kindest smile she had ever known- “Sleipnir?”

“Yes, it's me! And how are you, Luna?”

Damn.

Luna sighed, turning her eyes away and gazing out across this field. This... dream. Ah, look over there, there was Celestia, dressed up in her armor, wearing some stupid helmet with wings on it. The Valkyries had never worn winged helmets, that was some stupid artistic flair from some stupid play about some stupid mare who set herself on fire; she would say she'd never be dumb or reckless enough to do that, but that would be a lie. It was much more accurate to say she'd already done that once before and it hadn't gone very well.

What a strange thing to think.

“Are you-”

“Spare me.” Luna said tiredly.

Not-Sleipnir stared at her, and Luna shook her head as she absently reached up and removed the crown from her head. She studied it moodily as she explained: “Sleipnir and I speak the same dialect. 'Tis messy, Nightmare. Thou art messy. And this is a very stuffy dream. I do not like it at all. 'Tis stuffy and stupid. Stuffy and stupid.”

Not-Sleipnir continued to stare dumbly at her, and then Luna grumbled as she put her forehooves behind her head and kicked her rear hooves up on the top of the rail, grumbling: “Now either release me from this mental prison or go away whilst I ponder for a little while.”

“D-Do not insult me!” But the Nightmare sounded tinny and humiliated even as the world around them transformed, becoming a hellish landscape of brutal war; the Not-Sleipnir became a towering monstrosity, emaciated, rotting, as an equal decrepit and hideous mockery of Celestia appeared on the other side, and grinning, zombie-like versions of Scrivener and Twilight crawled their way up over the front of the carriage as the Nightmare hissed: “They never loved you. They will never love, and-”

Luna yawned loudly, then rose her forehooves above her head and clapped them sharply twice, and immediately all four monstrosities burst apart into ashes. Flames whickered up invisible strings and into the sky, and the Nightmare yelped and flung a pair of wooden puppet crosses away, looking shocked as its macabre nightmare became nothing but a painted set, Luna glowering up at it through one eye for a moment before she closed it and shifted back to relax in the still-present, cushy carriage. “Thou art no match for me on this battlefield, Nightmare. Doubly-so when thou art so unpracticed. I can walk a hundred dreams in a single night if the urge so takes me, although as of late there has been little need to.”

The Nightmare stared down at her, then looked at its own singed hooves before it hissed and leapt down from its perch above the set, landing beside Luna. It began to step forward, and then squealed when a silver birdcage appeared around it, floating into the air as Luna scowled over the creature-

“Devour it.” encouraged a soft voice, and Luna shivered as she looked to the other side of the carriage. There, she saw a door standing in emptiness, open just a crack, and terrible blackness, not light, spilling in from it across the earth. Where it touched, the ground turned to bubbling black tar, veins of this eerie mire pulsing outwards from the poison.

The Nightmare trembled, and shoved itself fearfully back against the cage as a single green eye peeked out from behind the door, which creaked open just a little wider, as the voice whispered: “Oh, little Luna, at least feed it to me...”

“Get thee hence.” Luna whispered.

The thing behind the door laughed quietly, and then it murmured: “But I am not your enemy. I am your friend. I only want what is best for you.”

“Get thee hence!”

The evil sighed, then closed the door with a snick, and Luna shivered as she swept a hoof hard to the side and instead, she and the Nightmare were left standing in a white and empty void.

She looked at the Nightmare, and it fell to its knees, babbling: “Please! P-Please spare me, I am so sorry mistress... let me go, and I will never trouble you again!”

Luna scowled down at the Nightmare. It never would have afforded her the same-

No.

That was not the way to think about this. She closed her eyes, taking a slow breath, and then she grimaced before nodding once, looking down at the shadow creature and saying quietly: “Awaken me, then begone.”

The Nightmare whimpered, but a moment later, Luna felt a sharp shock run through her system; in a blink, she was no longer standing in a dreamworld, but instead she was awake and aware, gasping as a darkness lunged away from her and bolted for the open doors.

“Sister! Wait!” cried a voice, and Luna growled as she rolled to her hooves before she quickly threw herself sideways when a blast of black fire snapped through the air at her. “What did you do to her?”

“Only showed her the error of her ways.” Luna said ironically, before she snorted when the Nightmare tried to rush down on her, and she sidestepped before slamming a hoof into its face, knocking it crashing to the side with a gasp before it went invisible and insubstantial.

It flitted to the safety of the shadows, then sent a bolt of black flames at her; Luna deflected these with an easy flick of her horn, then retaliated with a blast of blue fire that blew out one of the remaining windows.

The Nightmare squealed as it flashed into her vision for a moment before vanishing again and this time retreating to an even further distance to hide, and Luna took the moment to assess her surroundings.

Scrivener Blooms was on the ground, not moving: that was to be expected. One of the Nightmares had probably entered his mind and spirit and was trying to corrupt him, so she would have to make this quick

Fortunately, there was only one Nightmare keeping watch over them, but that meant- “Where is thy sister? Or did she abandon thee just as thy other sibling has?”

The Nightmare hissed at her, and launched a blast of dark fire down at her from the second floor, but Luna sliced through this with her horn and dispelled it before flicking her horn sharply, exploding the railing above with telekinesis to pelt the Nightmare with shards of stone.

“Damn you!” the Nightmare screamed, before it hissed, the voice seeming to come from all around her as the shadows squeezed in around the sapphire mare: “Why resist? We only wanted to help you! We would have loved and served you forever in your eternal night!”

Luna laughed shortly, half-turning towards where she thought the voice had come from: her eyes registered movement too late, and a moment later, a small, sharp rock bounced off her face, Luna's head twitching to the side as blood burst from her split lip.

She breathed hard as her mane sparked and wafted around her, then grinned and slowly licked the blood from her muzzle. Another rock hammered against her breastplate, but she ignored it as she said contemptibly: “Foolish creature. I know thy kind: thy servitude can be bought or coerced, that much is true. Thou art always seeking a stronger evil to hide behind-”

“Evil.” sneered the Nightmare. It flung another rock at her: at least now it clever enough to try and be stealthy, as Luna knocked the stone out of the air with her horn before she slapped another down with a hoof. “We are no more evil than your average pony. Your kind does the same: attaches itself to the bigger, stronger brute in order to survive and thrive. Why do you think the mortals follow Celestia so readily?”

“But that is where thou hast made thy mistake!” Luna shouted, and she felt the Nightmare twitch. “Nightmare Moon would just as readily consume thee and thy kind as she would use and abuse thee! Nightmare Moon would not be thy savior, idiot... she would be thy tyrant!”

“You lie!” But the Nightmare's voice quavered, and Luna smiled grimly. It could pretend otherwise, but these dark specters fed off emotion, which meant that they always knew when a pony was telling the truth.

What a terrible existence, to never know the comfort of a lie.

This was taking too long.

The Nightmare flitted to another shadow, and Luna ground her teeth in frustration before she looked up and her eyes locked on the moon above. She ignored the Nightmare when it launched another stone at her along with some half-creative invective, defending herself with a foreleg as her horn glowed, grasping the moon with her powers, willing it closer.

The moon crept closer; it became a larger pearl, filling the night with its glow, its radiance seeming to shine directly on the castle, and the Nightmare gasped as it shimmered when it was caught in the moonlight. Immediately, Luna snapped her horn out, sending a blue fireball crashing into the creature.

The Nightmare screamed in agony and terror, the blue flames rapidly spreading across its body before it simply whiffed out of existence completely, and Luna grimaced before she shook her head and released her grip on the moon. She didn't spare the time to watch it fade back up into the sky, however, instead quickly approaching Scrivener and reaching down to touch him gently.

He was breathing regularly: she sensed the Nightmare's presence in his mind, but it hadn't been able to manipulate or possess him, and Luna smiled wryly before she sighed and muttered: “Forgive me for this intrusion, Scrivy, but sometimes one must do one wickedness to undo another.”

Her horn thrummed, her magic building for a few moments before she breathed slowly out, only needing to concentrate for a moment...

There.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was standing in the middle of a frost-speckled dirt road. As she looked back and forth, the rest of the world filtered in around her, but it was all sepia-tones and grays, as unwelcoming as the cold she felt crushing in around her.

She shivered a little, then took a breath and insulated herself against the icy weather. She had to be careful, though: memories and dreams were a funny thing, and if she blocked out too much of one sensation, she might inadvertently blind herself to some of the associations his memories held.

To either side of her, huge snowbanks and drifts stood unwelcome sentinel in front of ramshackle houses and squat, ugly shops. Nothing here looked cared for, and this town felt like it had never seen a single day of real warmth, much less a Winter Wrap Up or even a Hearth's Warming Eve.

What a terrible place: cold, and lonely, and not a pony in sight. Just blurs behind the gray windows of ugly buildings and monotone snow.

The snow crunched under her hooves as she made her way forward, before she frowned as she finally heard something ahead. And only thirty seconds later, she realized that there were two figures in the road ahead, and she couldn't help but smile wryly at the almost ridiculous sight.

Scrivener Blooms was sitting in the middle of the dirt road and visibly sulking, like a foal. A phantom Twilight Sparkle was flitting back and forth around him, looking frustrated.

“You can't hide your secrets from me.” it cooed in his ear, then zipped to his other side: her coat was almost a bruised purple, her eyes red and eerie as she floated above the road. “I taste bitterness. Anger. Love. Regret. We can cure your weakness. We can-”

Scrivener yawned loudly and obnoxiously. In this bizarre winter world, he was dressed only in his half-coat, his glasses askew on his face, and Luna smiled despite herself, lingering for a moment to watch. On the one hoof, she wanted to give Scrivener the chance to handle this. On the other, she knew the real problem was that this was an invasion of her friend's privacy: she was spying on him, in a place where no one else was supposed to be able to see, while he argued with a creature that would be able to expose some of his deepest secrets.

Nightmare Twilight scowled horribly, then she zipped around him in a circle before she pushed almost face-to-face with him, asking mockingly: “Oh, are you happy being a worthless little slave hoof?”

Luna's features tensed, and Scrivener snorted as he sat back, remarking: “Is racism the best you've got? Because this filthy mudwalker heard a lot worse than that up north from the proud horns.”

Twilight snorted in contempt, then asked: “Don't you want a horn?”

“Not yours.” Scrivener grimaced, reaching up and poking his hoof against Nightmare Twilight's spire as she leaned her face in, slowly pushing her away. “What am I going to do with a horn, anyway? Poke ponies with it?”

“We can give you magic.” Nightmare Twilight almost purred.

“What am I going to shoot it out of? My eyes? Do I wave a hoof and say 'abracadabra, now you're a chicken?'”

Nightmare Twilight scowled at him, then she suddenly smiled, her body slithering through the air and twining around him as she teased: “Well, what if we offered you their love? We can give you anything... everything...”

Scrivener grimaced, before he looked just as stunned as Luna felt as the Nightmare Twilight slowly ground up against him and shoved her rump back against the side of his head. She wiggled it back and forth as she squished her butt back into Scrivener's face, and the stallion slowly blinked before he mumbled: “You know, if anything had the power to make me believe you were Twilight Sparkle, it's this.”

Luna's cheeks puffed out as she tried to suppress her giggling, staring with disbelief at the sight. The Nightmare, trying to look coy and seductive as it rubbed its butt back and forth against Scrivy's face, Scrivener's eye visibly twitching before he suddenly yelled and flailed angrily at her, shoving her rump away.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted, as the Nightmare Twilight whisked around in a circle and winced at his frustration. “Are you being serious right now? This is your idea of sexy?”

The Nightmare Twilight blushed, eyes darting awkwardly back and forth before it snapped: “I am drawing from your desires! You're the one who wants-”

“I don't want someone grinding their fat butt all over my head!” Scrivener flailed his forelegs at her, then he scooped up a bit of snow and flung it in her direction, and she flinched and scowled at him. “Go get some seduction lessons or something! Better yet, go have Twilight Sparkle sit on your head so you know how it feels!”

The Nightmare hissed at him as the illusion of Twilight burst off her form like smoke, revealing her true form before she leaned forwards and growled: “You can't lie to me, you're a disgusting mess of primal urges.”

“I'm a writer. I'm a liar, a cheat, and a jerk. Hey, didn't you know? All the great poems are just metaphors for genitals.” he said sourly with a flick of his hoof. “Also, you have access to all my memories and mind and apparently you're looking at the times I touched myself? Look, I'm not here to kinkshame, but you need to learn a thing or two about consent.”

The Nightmare hissed at him again, and then it grew to double its size suddenly, glaring down at him angrily as the whole world darkened. Luna tensed and leaned forwards, ready to leap to action, but Scrivener looked unimpressed as the dark spirit warned: “Instead of gifts, I can inflict terror and pain until you surrender yourself to me.”

“Didn't we just have a talk about consent?” Scrivener asked wryly, before he was hefted into the air by the Nightmare, whose eyes glowed with rage as it crushed him in a telekinetic grip. But the stallion was unflinching and unyielding as he said quietly: “You can't get what you want by just hurting me. If you could, you would have gone to that first instead of the seduction attempts.”

The Nightmare snorted smoke across him, glowering at him, and Scrivener smiled up at her fearlessly as he said quietly: “Here's a little warning for you. Luna wakes up real cranky, and you and your 'sisters' are going to be on her bad side. As someone who regularly gets treated way worse than this by her – and she likes me! – I would recommend you run away before she beats you out of me.”

“We could make her love you. Her and Twilight Sparkle both.” the Nightmare tried to vie, and Scrivener crossed his forelegs, looking sour even as he continued to float in her grip.

“You know, polygamy was made illegal roughly two hundred years ago.” He stopped, then mused: “Although sociological findings have noted that if the mare-to-stallion ratio remains in the roughly seventy-to-thirty percent range, we could be seeing a resurgence of open polygamy. I'm not entirely sure I could survive a relationship with more than one mare, though.”

The Nightmare snorted, then she said: “We could make you king-”

“I claimed so bold that Heaven mandated my rule, and ignored the warning of its angels, telling me I would suffer; how wretched, to be King of all that I may gaze upon, yet never know Enough!” Scrivener recited, gesturing sharply upwards. “To starve with every banquet, to thirst with every drink, to long with every beholden queen and maiden I claim! Ah, how God toys with me, and what glee the Devil must have as I suffocate in my sea of want!”

The Nightmare flinched as Scrivener gestured violently outwards, and the stallion fell with a thump into a snowbank. He didn't bother getting up, his eyes drifting towards Luna, who was smiling softly at him; but as she had not announced herself, she knew that he wasn't aware of her. He could see her, but didn't know that she was really there rather than an echo of memory.

“I couldn't be a king. I would want, and want, and want.” Scrivener shook his head briefly. “I'm a petty jerk. I'd abuse my power. I already do abuse my power too much. Luna...”

He smiled as he looked towards her again, and she felt his warmth. His affection. His admiration. “I could never be her king. I'm not even her equal. She's incredible and stronger than anyone I've ever met. She takes the night and the darkness and makes it beautiful in a way I never could.” Scrivener gazed upward, as the deep blackness turned to dimness, and stars twinkled above, and a faint aurora stretched through the sky. “You can't bribe me. You can't torture me. You might as well just go away, because the last thing I'm going to do is surrender to a shadow puppet when even Twilight was able to stand up to Discord.”

“Ah, but Discord would have loved thee, Scrivy!” Luna called, and Scrivener and the Nightmare both looked equally surprised, staring over at her before the Nightmare shrieked: instead of attacking, however, the shadow mare leapt backwards, vanishing in a burst of smoke.

Scrivener smiled awkwardly as he picked himself up out of the snowbank, rubbing the back of his head as the night rapidly turned to day, before he scowled as the Nightmare's voice mocked: “Well, let's see if you really meant all those things you said! Come and find me if you dare!”

Scrivener squinted into the distance, and then he glanced awkwardly over at Luna as she approached. They looked at each other for a few long moments, and then he asked finally: “So uh... how long were you here?”

“Oh, well, Scrivy, I arrived just in time to watch it scrubbing thee with her buttocks.” Luna noted cheerfully, and Scrivener sighed before the mare glanced towards where the creature had fled: while most of the buildings were gray and monotone, there was one that clearly stood out in memory, with not just a little more color, but more of a sense of life to it. “Now come, Scrivener Blooms. Let us corner the coward and drive it from thy mind.”

“Wait!” Scrivener blurted as Luna took a step forward, and Luna frowned before looking back over her shoulder at him, and the stallion bit his lip before his eyes drifted down and he cleared his throat.

He looked up, but before he could even open his mouth, she was in front of him, and he blinked before she touched his shoulder gently, meeting his eyes as she murmured: “Scrivy. Tell me.”

Scrivener looked down, and then he smiled faintly and nodded, taking a breath as he visibly fought off the urge to try and sidestep or brush it off. Instead, he looked up, meeting her gaze as he said quietly: “I... I'm just afraid of what you're going to think of me. And of... the past.”

“Thou needs not fear it with me, Scrivener Blooms... for I am here to support thee through it all. And I shall not judge thee.”

“I'm... I'm not afraid of your judgment.” Scrivener swallowed a bit as he glanced away, and Luna smiled faintly. “I'm afraid of your pity.”

“Well... lucky for thee, I am a pitiless mare.” she answered, and then she hesitated only a moment before leaning forwards and kissing his forehead, making him blush deep red. “Thou knows me, and does not judge me for who I am, and who I have been. Let us face this side-by-side, together.”

Scrivener finally sighed and nodded, and then he visibly steadied himself, squaring his shoulders and turning his eyes ahead as he murmured: “Okay. Let's go.”

He led her forward, down the road, and he cleared his throat as they stopped in front of the building. The snowbanks were cleared to either side here, and Scrivener and Luna stood on a cold sidewalk, gazing silently together up at the sign on the ugly, squat structure: 'Flowers.'

“Bramblethorn never was very creative.” Scrivener said with a chuckle and shake of his head, and then he trembled once, and Luna followed him, up a short, rickety set of stairs and into the maw of the threatening balcony to the throat of the waiting door.

It opened on the sight of a small shop. Flowers, seeds, assorted pots and bouquets. Uninspired and typical arrangements in a gray store.

A pegasus strode briskly through the shop, looking over shelves of merchandise. A unicorn with a greasy black mane and a sallow, gray-white coat was tapping his hoof impatiently at the counter. A small earth pony foal nervously flitted through the shelves, cleaning the omnipresent muck and slush from the floor, so dirty that his mane looked brown and black instead of white, wearing an apron with some kind of crest sewn into it.

The pegasus didn't even look at the foal as he walked by, nearly trampling him and knocking him over. The foal didn't speak or even look up, and the pegasus snorted as he flapped his wings once disdainfully: the wash of air knocked a mason jar loose from a shelf, and it fell and shattered.

“Rude little colt.” the pegasus remarked as he approached the counter.

“Sorry, sir. We do our best with him, but he never learns.” said the unicorn as he rang up the order.

The pegasus left, and the moment he was gone, the unicorn slid out from behind the counter. He stormed over to the foal and used telekinesis to slap the dustpan and broom out of his hooves before he flung them bad-temperedly down the aisle, shouting: “Out of sight! What does that mean, boy? And look at the mess you made!”

“I-I'm sorry, Dad-”

“I am not your 'Dad,' I am your 'Father,' you little ingrate.” seethed the unicorn. “Mudwalkers use proper titles and show proper respect. And they do not get in the way of their betters!”

The unicorn stomped angrily, then he gestured at the broken glass that now littered the aisle, the dirty little foal cowering. “Clean up this mess. Then go to bed.”

The memories froze. Luna noticed the stallion was pointing at the door, not the inside of the house, and she turned a silent question to Scrivener Blooms.

Scrivener only shrugged and smiled faintly, glancing down and murmuring: “Earth ponies do not enter the unicorn master's domain. They use the servant door.”

He turned, and Luna shivered before she followed him, through the cleared lot in front of the store and down a side path that had appeared through the snow. They started down a narrow alleyway, and then they both stopped as a door at the side of the house was slammed open.

Scrivener was ejected by unicorn magic, crying out as he hit the wall opposite before he landed on his side, tears rolling down his cheeks. Father followed him out, the unicorn snarling in rage as he flung several torn pages and pencils after the foal. “No! Literature is the realm of the nobles, not the savages like you! You were born a slave and you will remain a slave, forever!”

“P-Please, I just want to learn-”

The unicorn made a gesture that Luna hadn't seen since the old days: he tilted his head to the side and clicked his tongue sharply. And both foal and adult Scrivener automatically flinched before the child fell quickly to a low bow.

“Bastard.” Luna whispered.

“That was Bramblethorn.” Scrivener's tone was almost lofty, but tears shone in his eyes, and his body trembled and shook. “That... that was my dad.”

The ponies faded from sight, and Scrivener walked down the alleyway, Luna following, feeling the gentle pull of another memory: when they reached the other side, somehow they ended up back at the start.

Except this time, this space squeezed between buildings had more than just trash and debris. Near the back of the alley, there was an old cargo crate, held together mostly by twine and prayer, with an ugly door made of crisscrossed metal bars haphazardly hanging off its hinges, a bolt and padlock hanging from the front.

Bramblethorn emerged from the side door of the shop, carrying Scrivener Blooms in telekinesis. He yanked open the door, then flung the foal inside before slamming it shut even as the foal cried out.

Both ponies disintegrated into dust, and then Bramblethorn emerged again, this time with foal Scrivener following at his heels. Bramblethorn clicked at him, and the foal entered the cage, and Bramblethorn locked him inside.

Locked him in the kennel.

They turned to dust again, and a final memory played: Scrivener leaving, walking to the kennel, and pulling the door closed behind him.

“He had me nice and trained after a few weeks.” Scrivener said quietly, as he walked over to the modified crate. He silently stroked a hoof along the top of this prison, gazing down at it as he murmured: “I grew up a slave hoof in the realm of unicorns. You know, I heard 'earth pony' only when we had the rare visitor, or people trying to be dignified and polite in noble company. We weren't earth ponies to them. We were slave hoofs. And I was... I still am, Bramblethorn's ultimate shame.”

He bent down, and Luna silently approached before she ducked down to look inside as well.

The crate barely had enough room for foal Scrivener to sleep. He was curled up on his side on top of a blanket, some loose clothes clearly dug out of the trash pulled over him for warmth. Part of a candle, doodles on the walls, some pages, peeking out from underneath the makeshift bedding.

“I taught myself to read and write. Books were my only escape.” The memory changed: now Scrivener was awake, silently reading by a flickering, dim candle, mouthing out the words. “There was no school up north. Not for slave hoofs, anyway. Schooling and tutoring was for pegasi and unicorns.”

Scrivener reached in, and gently plucked a paper loose from a sheaf against one wall. He smiled faintly, studying this quietly, then turned and handed it to Luna, who took it with a trembling hoof before she looked down and read it.

She recognized it. That was the worst thing of all.

It was the Celestial Edict. A decree from ancient times that stated unicorns were at the top of the hierarchy, and the earth ponies at the lowest. Among other things, it described the rights that unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies all held, and how the tribes should treat each other. It was nothing like the harmony and kindness that Celestia had fostered over the last thousand years, but rather the old, ancient ways that believed that peace could only be achieved via force.

She slowly clenched her hoof into this, until it burst into flames and dissolved into ashes, asking with disbelief: “How is it possible that places like this could still exist?”

Scrivener shrugged, and then he shifted away from the kennel and walked down the alley, and Luna followed quickly after him.

They were back in the store, and a unicorn mare with a darker, almost metallic coat and a silvery mane with streaks of brighter white was on the other side of the counter. She was pretty, and... sad, Luna thought.

Foal Scrivener sat, looking up at her attentively as she went over a list in front of her. “These are your chores. I know you can read them.”

“Yes, Mother.” Scrivener said politely.

The unicorn mare studied him intently, and then she looked up as Bramblethorn stormed in, snapping: “Why are you wasting time with that mudwalker, Tia Belle? We're going to be late for Councilor Caprice's function!”

“I was the one who planned it, Bramblethorn, we have plenty of time.” Tia Belle answered, before she returned her eyes to Scrivener, who had his head lowered and was remaining still and silent. “Ensure you don't leave a speck of mud anywhere.”

Scrivener bowed his head deeply, answering: “Yes, Mother.”

Bramblethorn snorted and roughly shoved the foal over as he passed, looking back at him with disgust. Tia Belle followed him after a moment to the door, and the last thing he heard in the whisper of memory was Bramblethorn muttering: “-don't understand why you're so gentle with that useless lout...”

Scrivener wiped slowly at his face, and then he looked away and whispered: “Do you ever...”

He swallowed, then bit his lip before looking up. Luna stood beside him, looking as well: they saw Scrivener as a child, in different rooms, cleaning, working, as he said quietly: “Room, to room, to room. Doing all their work. Tia Belle treated me like a servant but... but sometimes... sometimes I wonder, Luna...”

Luna saw. More, Luna felt it in his emotions, and the flashes of memory.

Bramblethorn, abusing him in the shop as his serving colt, or putting him to work having him carry supplies and seeds back and forth from the store to the underground caverns, where pegasus soldiers signed him in and out like a prisoner.

Always in the cold.

Tia Belle, not encouraging him, but not as demanding, not as quick to punish him. Giving him lists to read and teaching him the basics of math. Treating him like a servant at least rather than a slave, employing him inside, or the rare time, putting him on duty cleaning and working at a function alongside other earth ponies.

“I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. I want to get through this, and maybe... maybe later we can...” Scrivener swallowed and shook his head slowly. “But right now I just have to...”

“Lead on.” Luna encouraged, touching his back gently, and Scrivener smiled at her with gratitude, even as a tear rolled down his cheek.

They walked on. Through the empty store, and stepped once more into naked air, standing somehow on the other side of the street facing the shop once again. Scrivener was dragging himself to the front of the patio, whimpering, his foreleg limp. He was beaten and bruised, satchels that had contained an order he was supposed to deliver torn. Flower petals were scattered in a trail behind him, like blood.

Some kids had attacked him, chanting 'slave hoof, slave hoof!' the whole time. Beaten him, forced the flowers he'd been supposed to deliver down his throat. When he'd vomited they'd laughed and hit him some more.

No one had stopped to help.

He dragged himself home, and Bramblethorn burst out, roaring in fury. He picked up Scrivener in telekinesis and slammed him down on his back, ignoring the foal's scream as he shouted: “You were supposed to have delivered these expensive flowers thirty minutes ago! You worthless, pathetic lout of a mudwalker!”

Bramblethorn rose a hoof, and Tia Belle called sharply from the shop: “Bramblethorn, think of your reputation! If you kill him, what will the neighbors say?”

Bramblethorn stood over the foal, who trembled and cried on the ground, looking up at the towering shape of his father. He had been so large, so terrifying...

“Go to your kennel. You are no longer permitted to enter the servant quarters. You will live there like the worthless dog you are.” Bramblethorn finally growled, and then he stepped off the foal and stormed into the house, shoving Tia Belle rudely as he walked past her.

“I already lived there, really. He put me in there every chance he had. He made me sleep in there every night.” Scrivener said quietly, looking up towards the gray skies. “But it still... hurt so badly to hear.

“You never really... get over it.” Scrivener stopped. “It's hardwired in me, I think. Like the click, and the other old commands they used to use. They make you believe these things. You tell yourself it's not true, that you've grown up, that you've left it behind. But you never really have.”

Scrivener sighed quietly, then frowned as he looked up. A gangly, emaciated earth pony teen hurried down the steps in daylight, carrying a heavy order out to a truck, and a unicorn in a suit stood at the foot of the patio.

“Whose child is that?” he asked politely.

Bramblethorn scowled, then spat: “No one's. An urchin, that's all. Scrivener, hurry up!”

Scrivener stumbled over his own legs as he scrambled back to the store, and the unicorn noble watched before his eyes drifted down. He picked up a notebook that had fallen from the colt's apron, and he opened it, flicking through it.

Scrivener hurried past the unicorn to load the last of the flowers into the carriage, then he turned around and froze dead. He stared, wide-eyed, terrified, at the unicorn, as he glanced up, asking curiously: “Did you write this?”

“He is illiterate.” Bramblethorn snarled as he emerged almost in a rush from the store. “Scrivener Blooms, inside, now.”

“Pardon me, sir, I was asking... Scrivener, is it?” The unicorn noble turned a practiced, icy smile on Bramblethorn, remarking: “I'll only be a moment, I have a delegate all the way from Canterlot visiting to discuss some business prospects in Silver Hoof. And you know how they love to gossip.”

Bramblethorn visibly shrank, and then he turned around with a grumble and headed back inside. Scrivener stared at the unicorn, not understanding, and the stallion smiled at him and held the book out before he asked gently: “My wife loves poetry like this. You have quite a talent, young stallion. Do you think you could write me something?”

“I'm sorry, sir, I...” Scrivener's eyes darted back and forth fearfully, not understanding. “Wouldn't you prefer a unicorn do it?”

“I would prefer you.” he said, and he shook the book he was still holding out lightly.

Scrivener took it, opened it, and stroked across a blank page as the unicorn watched. And after a moment, the stallion pulled out a dirty, stub of pencil and wrote something simple and gentle and tender, and he didn't even realize it when his cutie mark appeared on his haunch in a quiet flash of light.

The memories washed away, and Scrivener smiled faintly as he murmured: “Frightened me so badly... and Bramblethorn was so furious with me he broke my kennel and I slept in the snow for a week.” He laughed faintly before a carriage arrived, and the stately unicorn who had visited before stepped down and walked up the steps. And a few moments later, he led a stupefied Scrivener Blooms out.

Bramblethorn appeared in the doorway, cradling a small bag of money, and Scrivener murmured: “I wonder how much I was worth.”

Color burst into the world as the scenery changed, became a vibrant city that a gaping, awestruck stallion stood in. Laughter and noise assaulted them from all sides, and the stallion shook his head as he murmured: “Trotronto. I was tutored here. My benefactor, Tops Turner, paid for it, for the first few months of living in an apartment, and helped me get a job at a local newspaper. I was lucky.”

He scowled as the streets darkened, and a giddy Scrivener went stumbling down the road, cackling and drunk. “And then I nearly drank myself to death here, like a rat hitting the pleasure button until it dies.”

He shook his head in embarrassment. “It was hard. Took a long time to adjust, to being... out on my own, able to control my own destiny, treated as equal and... well, it was a steep learning curve.”

He stopped, then smiled faintly as the world around them went black before it filled back in, and they were inside a bookstore, watching as an almost-adult Scrivener silently stroked the face of a book on display, and the present Scrivener closed his eyes and murmured: “'Rose Thorns.' My first published book. Not just articles or magazine work or ghost-writing, but my first book.”

Scrivener Blooms bit his lip, and then he looked down and murmured: “I screwed up my life pretty good after that, though. My drinking got out of control and I ended up getting fired from the newspaper and blacklisted by the local magazines I wrote for after I... may have gone on a slightly racist rant against unicorns.”

Luna stared at him, then slowly turned to see a drunken, manically-grinning younger Scrivener standing in front of a horrified unicorn in an expensive suit that was now completely soaked by the wine that had been poured all over him. The sounds were muffled, and the stink of alcohol that assaulted her senses told her why Scrivener couldn't remember these moments very well, and Scrivener grimaced, half-leaning away from his own past but resolutely glowering at himself as he mumbled: “I've always been such an idiot. In control, I thought. But the alcohol controlled me and... I was as bad as any unicorn.

“I got in a fight when someone tried to pull me away. Got beaten up, and woke up in the drunk tank. We worked out a deal, and the editor dropped the case against me, as long as I quit my job and paid for the damage I caused. It had a domino effect and long story short, I had no choice but to move out and head south on hoof.”

He quieted, then blushed deeply as light filtered in around them. And Luna was surprised, because what she saw next was the two of them, sitting in her room together. She was holding a book in telekinesis and he was reading, his hoof sliding gently across the page, pausing now and then when she had a question or asked about a word...

Her memories mixed with his, and he blushed as he felt her joy. Her happiness.

They looked at each other, and then a breath whispered through the room before a voice whispered: “And what about revenge?”

They turned around, and looked at the Nightmare. It was looking at them, leaning almost pleadingly forward. “Look at what they did to you! Don't you want to punish them for that?”

“Sometimes the best revenge is living well.” Scrivener said quietly, shaking his head slowly before he rubbed the back of his head and almost shyly looked at Luna. “And maybe one day visiting them with the most powerful unicorn in existence at your side.”

Luna smiled widely at this, and then she winked and answered as she gently touched her horn to her forehead. “Nay. I think it would be even better, Scrivener Blooms, if we instead forced them to visit us, in our own home.”

Scrivener snorted in amusement, before both of them looked up as the Nightmare hissed: “Idiocy! Do you really think it would be that easy?”

She gestured angrily backwards, and a snarl of freezing wind blasted through the air, snow and frost hissing across the ground beneath and around their hooves. Scrivener grimaced as Luna stepped forwards as the Nightmare growled: “You can put on all the masks and false faces you want, but I know the truth.”

She gestured again, and Scrivener grimaced as a massive Bramblethorn appeared behind her, towering, casting his shadow over them all as she hissed: “Until you destroy him, you will never feel like anything but a bug in his shadow, a-”

The enormous Bramblethorn stepped forwards, and the Nightmare squealed as it was crushed out in an almost anticlimactic puff of dark smoke. That horrible amalgamation of fear and emotion and attachment and memory loomed down towards Scrivener, studying him with soulless eyes, and Scrivener trembled, but then took a slow breath as he leaned forwards and said quietly: “You can't hurt me anymore. I... I won't let you hurt me anymore.”

Silence, and then the giant slowly dissolved into a breath of dead leaves and rotten flowers that turned to dust as they blew away in a gentle, warm wind that left them standing once more in empty space. Scrivener frowned, looking around for the Nightmare, but Luna smiled wryly as she muttered: “These creatures attach themselves to us, and feed off us. They are most powerful here, in the space inside thy mind, true... but also most vulnerable, too, Scrivener Blooms.”

“So it's gone?” Scrivener asked, and Luna nodded with a faint smile. Crushed like a bug under the weight of that amalgamation of bad memories.

Scrivener felt a wave of vertigo, and he shivered before he felt Luna's hoof on his shoulder, Luna's horn gently press against his head, and he blinked before opening his eyes and looking up into the beautiful midnight green of the sapphire mare's. His mouth went dry as they looked at each other, face-to-face, her standing over him, her barrel pressed gently down against his, her hooves steadying him on his back.

He leaned up, and she leaned down as her mane stroked across his face, inviting him upwards, their lips touching as eyes began to close-

A squeal echoed through the hall, and both Luna and Scrivener looked dumbly to the side before Sammy full-on tackled Scrivener in the face with a splat of bone against his features, and Scrivener sighed tiredly as Luna threw her head back and laughed loudly.

“Hi Sammy. Thanks.” Scrivener said, exasperated, and then he sighed as Luna stepped back off him with a blush. He clambered to his own hooves, the pseudodragon still clinging to his face, before Luna leaned over and quickly kissed his cheek.

Scrivener's eyes went wide and his head snapped up so hard that Sammy went hurtling into the air with a squeal, doing a flip before he came down with a clang on top of Scrivener's helm, and Luna grinned wryly as she remarked: “There will be time for that later, Scrivy. But for now, we need to find the last Nightmare, which I expect has likely fled down to the vaults.”

“Uh huh.” Scrivener cleared his throat, and then he shook his head quickly as Sammy grumbled on top of his head.

Luna looked at him with amusement, then she turned and headed across the hall to an ajar door, becoming more serious even as she wedged it open with telekinesis, dust hailing down as she asked: “Tell me, Court Poet, does thou know the Song of Melinda?”

“'Sixteen black horses pulled her carriage through the skies, four teams of four that cut the air like a scythe.'” recited Scrivener immediately, and Luna nodded as they headed down a decrepit hallway. “The story of Melinda the Sky Witch, Mother of Magic; she was the one who brought the Nightmares into our world, right?”

“Yes and no; 'twas not by horsehair herb and ash that she bound her Nightmares, and the things she called into this world were not these shadowy specters.” Luna answered with a shake of her head. “But there is truth in its verse too: they are creatures of yearning and longing, always seeking to spread their misery, half in this world, and half outside it. Now tell me, poet, what else does the Song say about these creatures from beyond the veil?”

Scrivener mused to himself as Sammy chirped on his head, and then he murmured: “Okay, yeah, I think I get what you're saying, but how does that help us?”

Luna winked over her shoulder at him as she led him on, and the stallion smiled wryly, deciding just to trust in her before he bit his lip and mumbled: “And um, hey. Thanks for... you know, saving our lives and all.”

“Oh shush, Scrivy.” Luna laughed, eyes warm. “Thou saved thyself, really. And more... consider me merely returning the favor thou hast done for me.”

“That's me, a hero of the ages, fighting off all the monsters.” Scrivener said wryly, and Luna laughed again, making the darkness around them feel less oppressive and fortifying their spirits.

It only took them a few minutes to wend their way down through the ruins and into the basement, where they found a massive iron door. Luna forced this open with telekinesis, and they descended from the castle into natural caverns that were darker than dark, an inky blackness that seemed to swallow up all light. Even using magic to light their way, the shadows seemed to fight back against her, like a restless sleeper fighting against dawn's first intrusion.

They made their way through limestone caves, past sets of stalactites and stalagmites that hungered for them like jaws, across ancient ward-lines that had long cracked and fizzled out. And in the depths of this belly of the beast, they found a wall of ancient, greening bronze with a golden door that almost burned in their eyes, as pristine as if it had been first set into the wall yesterday.

They approached this, and Luna studied the unassuming home in the center of the door, muttering: “Let us hope that I remember how to do this...”

She closed her eyes, and the aura around her horn grew for a moment before tightening around the spire: it nearly took on a golden hue as she lowered her head, then slid her horn into the orifice, and that same radiance spread in a rapid spiderweb across the face of the golden barrier.

And after a moment, it clanked, pulling backwards before sliding slowly open in a hail of dust and debris: it had risen less than halfway before a blast of shadow tore past them both, a voice mocking: “Fools! You've delivered your prize right into my hooves!”

“Nay, shadow, thou art the fool.” Luna snorted, then she flicked her horn down, and the massive vault door slammed back down with such force it sent a hail of dust and debris raining down from the ceiling, Scrivener wincing and half-covering his head – and Sammy on top of it – as the Nightmare squealed on the other side. “This vault is blessed and secured against all evil. And that means it shan't just keep thy kind out... it will keep thee in.”

“W-Wait! No, no, no!” wailed the Nightmare on the other side, panic suffusing its voice. “I... I'm sorry, please let me out! I don't-”

“Don't what, Nightmare? Wish to be sealed in a tomb, imprisoned away from thy freedom, the power of the night? Are the walls closing in?” Luna jeered, even as she grimaced, and the shadow, this spirit of emotion as much as dark power, screamed out in terror-

“Wait!” cried a voice, and Luna and Scrivener both looked up in surprise as a Nightmare appeared behind them. Before Luna could even ready herself, however, it dropped into a bow, begging: “Please! Two of my sisters are dead, I do not desire to see a third die! I plead for her mercy! Mercy, please!”

There was silence for a moment except for whimpering, almost choking panting from the other side of the door, and Luna spat to the side before she looked over her shoulder at the vault door, asking sharply: “Does thou give me thy word, thy sacred vow, that thou shall no longer seek to harm us nor defy our mission?”

“Yes!” shouted the Nightmare from behind the vault door, as the one in front of them looked up meekly. A beast of shadow, Scrivener thought as he studied it silently, yet pleading, so alive, so pony-like in its submission and fear... and pain...

“Promise.”

“I promise! No, even more, I swear fealty to you! I shall serve you, if only you free me, I... I am dying, I am-”

Luna flicked her horn, and vault door rumbled as the magical energies still pulsing through it allowed it to rise. The moment it lifted free from the floor, a shadowy blackness slid out from beneath it before solidifying into the second Nightmare with a gasp and a tremble.

Its red eyes were bright and pulsing, its shadows writhing tightly around an almost visible skeleton. It quivered in front of them, before Luna gestured at it.

It hurried past to join its sister: the other leapt up and hugged her, and Scrivener cocked his head at this, watching intently, while Luna studied the two for a moment before they both turned back towards the ponies. They both bowed, and Luna said quietly: “Thou art lucky I am in a merciful mood tonight. And moreover... that I know what it is like, to live in terror, trapped in a place you do not belong.”

“Thank you, Mistress Moon-”

“Luna. I am... only Luna. I am not thy Mistress.” Luna answered, and when she made a gesture, the Nightmares both relaxed. Scrivener watched with fascination as the Nightmare's form filled back out, as its very essence seemed to calm. “Scrivener, it is rude to leer.”

Scrivener sighed and scowled at her, and one of the Nightmares lowered her head before promising: “We will do whatever you desire, Mistress Luna.”

Luna smiled faintly: oh, what a temptation that was! But instead, she only shook her head and murmured: “Get thee hence from my sight before I change my mind. Return to the night sky and reflect upon what you have learned here.”

One Nightmare immediately fled and vanished, while the other lingered for a moment before it followed.

There was silence, and then Luna said quietly: “I suppose one cannot hide the truth, can thou? I am Nightmare Moon, Scrivener Blooms. That is why they obey me, that is why they swore fealty so quickly. In the end, it is as they said: the Nightmares serve Nightmare Moon.”

“No.” Scrivener smiled over at her, and she cocked her head towards him with a frown. “Nightmare Moon may rule them, but it was Luna who gave them mercy.”

Luna bit her lip thoughtfully, and then she smiled after a moment, nodding to him thoughtfully. The poet really did have a way with words sometimes.

Maybe that was why she loved him.