Goodnight, My Darling . . .
Dear Princess Luna,
I just got word from a friend of mine who lives in Ponyville that your experiences on Nightmare Night have been rather troublesome. From what I've heard the holiday was an overall success on the part of the townsfolk in reintroducing you to modern life, but there seemed to have been some problems along the way. Your speech impediment, or at least now it's considered to be a speech impediment, disrupted the eardrums of some ponies and your archaic language was difficult to translate into modern Equestrian. Please, don't take this as an insult, it's just what my friend had noticed. She something along the lines of, "The Princess' intimidating personality and her old fashioned mindset towards everypony made convercing with her quite difficult." Though to be fair, it seems that Princess Celestia hasn't taken any action in catching you up on what's going on in Equestria.
This friend of mine, who will not be named, also informed me of other events that had occured on your first Nightmare Night in centuries. She mentioned a pink mare, whose mane smelled of cotton candy, dressing up like a chicken for the occasion. She seemed like a friendly pony, however childish, and was accompanying a group of foals as they were going from house to house to request sweets. But since your arrival in Ponyville, this mare had accused you of being a monster that nibbled on children's bums. Quite frankly this accusation was entirely ludicrous so I asked my friend who the pink mare in the chicken costume was and she said, "Oh don't you know by now? That mare is one of the Elements of Harmony! Pinkie Pie, I think her name was. I don't know her very well, but she's a very nice pony, however strange." I suppose that causing a panic throughout a town because you chose to pay a visit on your own holiday is kind of strange indeed.
Of course everything turned out fine in the end. You enjoyed your time with the locals and made the first step in adjusting to modern Equestrian life, but there's still a few things that bother me. Why do they bother me so much? Because, my dear Luna, you're quite a special pony, and I do mean that in the best way possible. You don't know me, I mean why should you? I am, or rather was, just an editor for the Canterlot Times making a few bits off of mediocre articles on mediocre stories. Compared to you, I'm just a tiny ant cowering before the mighty colossus of the Badlands. However, I did get the chance to interview you once, although you probably forgot about by now considering all the publicity you probably had to go through since your return.
When I asked you about the nobles and the upper-class Canterlot citizens you simply told me that they didn't respect you. Especially that Blueblood bloke, because I had to interview him for an article on Royal life way back in April and, pardon my language, he was a massive wanker. A horrid creature and the other nobles aren't much better than him, but at least we still have you and your sister to look up to.
And that's another thing that annoys me to no end. Over the past 13 months since your return, from October of 1000 A.N to November of 1001 A.N., it appears that ponies still act as if they only have one Princess. Why, I spoke with my physician the other day and he accidentally called you Nightmare Moon, and if it weren't for my condition I would've corrected him with a cup of ink to the eyes. Forgive me for writing that, but sometimes it really russles my jimmies when ponies disrespect you like that.
You see, the reason why I like you as much as I do is a bit of a long story, but I feel that if I don't write it now I won't ever get the chance again. When I was but a young lad I was part of a very artistically gifted family. My father was a painter who filled the canvas with such an array of colors and detail that it was a soothing sight for the eyes. His work was praised so much that a lot of his paintings are still in the Canterlot Art Museum. My mother was a different kind of artist, for she was a musician. She was quite an expert at the piano and the violin, so naturally she was part of an orchestra that played the works of classical artists.
As for myself, I was a photographer, my true talent. I would take pictures of everyday objects and convert them into something beautiful, like a pair of birds singing or old stallions playing a game of chess. What I liked to photograph the most by far, however, were the stars. Not just the stars either, because whenever I got the chance to venture into the countryside, which was rarely mind you, but when I did I would take pictures of nature at night time. Oh, the landscape was spectacular when viewed under the moon and its brethren as it looked over the grassy fields and the mountainous roads with a watchful eye! It was as if everything stood still for me to observe. Every leaf was in its right place, every blade of grass was perfectly matched with others of its kind, and even the wind would sing me a song.
You, my dear Princess, are an artist. Not just any artist either, but a pony who could change the way the world looked and felt through her mind and her magic that is so powerful and so magnificent that even I still fail to comprehend it. Whenever you look up at the lovely display of stars in the blackness of the night sky, remember that is your creation. All that is your creation, and the sky is your canvas whose spaces are for you to fill with your brush. A brush that comes from your mind and your heart and it expresses all the pain and joy of your very soul. Don't ever forget that.
Yes, I know that it is difficult to enjoy such art when there are so many ponies that ignore or even despise you and your work, but don't hold anything against them. They don't know any better and have yet to see just how fantastic their Princess is, but they will see just how fantastic she is once they take a good look at her work. Don't let those ponies get the better of you, no matter how hard they try, because there are ponies who appreciate you for who you are and what you paint of the black canvas at the end of every day.
If you think that your sister is getting more attention and more love from your subjects than you, do not despair, for there are subjects who do love you. You just haven't met them yet. As for me, I doubt we'll ever meet again, for I am a dying stallion, but I know that this letter will get to you before I pass, and that alone makes me happy. I want you to remember, to forgive, and to love with all your heart, my darling Luna, because I know that you have the power and the will to do all that and so much more. Please promise me that you'll do that, as I have kept my promise of loving everything about you and everything you create to my dying breath.
Be brave.
Be strong.
Be creative.
Be caring.
Be all that you can be.
Shine on.
And goodnight, my darling . . .
Sincerely, your loving and faithful subject,
Pic Kodak
