A Sky of Light

Chapters

Letter One: Dear Reader, a note
The Rise of Hidden Spring
Observing From the Outside
Moon and Spirit

Letter One: Dear Reader, a note

Dear Reader, a note:

This book which you now read was written by your Princess Luna, who wishes to enlighten and edify you regarding certain mysteries of my abilities. That is the whole and proper purpose to which I have devoted myself here.

By the suggestion of certain associates, I use a modern idiom in the writings herein. As I have been away for so very long, I must needs listen to the voice of wisdom regarding the world and its changes. The activities of so many, the environment of ponies today, the strictness of spellings and the changes of letters and words, the many new forms and discoveries in so many arts and sciences, and so forth: these beg that I investigate for at least four or five years of intense and unresting study! I have that time, but so few tutors; so if I should slip in my ways, I beg thy indulgence. (Here I wink to you, reader, but only halfway so; for We desire the intimacy of the older forms, which We miss, which were much clearer in nature as to whether We as speaker were distant or intimate, formal or informal, greater or lesser than the focus of Our speech. Yet betimes I feel that the world fades in and out of that Age now past, for it were as a mere moment ago to me, but to you it is beyond the imaginable lifetimes of your direct blood ancestors and into the times of legend and myth.)

"Such florid speech!" I imagine you say to these words. Yet those who wrote a thousand years ago, wrote for the sake of their readers. A letter to one's intimate friend, a book of philosophy or science for the edification of the Ages, a sermon or lecture to a handful of ponies, a deed to land, a declaration of law: each of these requires its own manner of writing. Thusly we come to the telling of tales, and how one might write them. Storytelling has been an art long honored among many peoples, for speech allows us to learn from others, to expand ourselves to encompass that which we have not directly experienced, to experience the little play that a storyteller makes in our minds as clearly as any put forth upon a stage. I am here to tell tales to you, Reader, and tales as I might tell to any small one whose eyes are bright and ears aimed forth to hear me. So I will write them as simply as a teller might speak them.

On top of that, the conceit of a letter is herein used where I wish to make direct address which is not part of a tale. I find that the writing of letters to share stories is most appropriate, for that is how we have until this most-modern day shared our lives with each other when apart, for lives are full of stories that are worth the sharing between intimates, and sometimes those stories are good to share with a crowd.

So we come to my purpose in this series of tales: Many of you have questions about my magics, abilities, and history. I attempt here to answer your questions with stories, as if I, too, were a simple storyteller; for the stories of our dreams and nighttime encounters are often sources of much wisdom, and the wisest of us would do well to look to the night as oft as to the day when seeking the answers they most truly need.

Yet this modern time is filled with distractions and easy entertainment! With this much in mind, I must begin my tales, or you might put away this book and look to some other source to brighten your eyes and point up your ears, other sources to answer the questions surely upon your minds and lips.

I am, as always,

Her Royal Highness Luna Princeps
Director of the Moon; Mistress of the Stars and the Night; Watcher, Guard, and Guide over the Ponies of Equestria in all Times of Darkness upon the Land

The Rise of Hidden Spring

The Rise of Hidden Spring

It was approaching morning, and the sun would be raised soon. We had come almost to the ending of the night's final Court, known as the Nightmare Court, for in my time, ponies who could not sleep would come to me then to seek counsel and the means to resolve that which troubled them so. I was curious, for the Nightmare Court is not oft attended now; indeed, most ponies who are up before dawn are preparing for the labor of farming and other business matters, and those who arrive early often await the Dawn Court where their legal matters are to be settled, so that the day's business can be gotten on with.

My herald stepped forth from the doors to the throne room, and announced, "Your Royal Highness, a seeker has come to you from Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Her name is Hidden Spring."

You must understand that unlike my sister's herald, who announces loudly and with a stamping of her hoof, so as to be heard over a loud gathering, my herald speaks gently but exceptionally clearly, allowing her to command attention as only a herald may, without shouting loudly enough to disturb the sleep of others within the castle. So that is why I speak gently when I say her words, rather than with volume and force.

My response was just as traditional as the announcement. "Let Hidden Spring be brought to Us, that We may learn of her inquiry and aid in her seeking."

You may think this formal talk is just empty tradition, with little meaning nor purpose in the modern world, but there is a bit of code hidden within the words we use. A seeker is someone with a philosophical or esoteric question, somepony seeking wisdom, rather than simple knowledge or a resolution of conflict. If my herald (whose name is, in fact, Gentle Voice) said that a professor had come, one might presume that a question of science were on their heart. There are many other ways for my herald to tell me who has come, and what their business might be.

So Hidden Spring was annunciated into the throne room and made her obeisance to me. I said, "You may approach the throne," and when she did so, "Pray tell, what question do you pursue?"

Hidden Spring said, "Your Highness, Professor Lucid Pool sent me here. He said that you would know what's happening to me. Five times in the past month, I've found myself dreaming of somepony, and then within a day or so I meet them, only to find out that my dream had something to do with stuff they were having trouble with. And it seems like half the time, they dreamed of me, too! I asked what was going on, and he said to ask you about dreamwalking. So... what's dreamwalking?"

Long years of rule have enabled me to freeze my body in a perfectly natural position when startled, rather than instantly leaping for the exit. I did so now, holding still and taking one soft breath as I composed my answer. I have had few students of my own, and for a professor to send one to me indicated the rarity of the ability Hidden Spring was manifesting.

Finally, I began. "Hidden Spring, dreamwalking is an ability wherein the pony performing it may enter the dreams of others, and not only view those dreams, but participate and help shape and guide them. It is a rare talent among ponykind, one which can help others flourish strongly or wither away to nothing at all. If there is no tutor among the Professors of my sister's School, then I may need to take you under my own guidance, that you may understand your responsibilities and powers within the realm of dreams."

Hidden Springs stared at me, her jaw slowly dropping. "You? You would be my teacher? B-b-buh..." I could see the pupils of her eyes contract, and her ears start to fall. This disappointed me, of course, as I wish to be beloved rather than feared.

"If thou wish, Hidden Spring. We will not force thee."

As happens, I need not have feared. The filly gave a sudden bounce, and almost hugged me on the spot, deterred only by the Master of Arms for the Night Guard clearing his throat. "Of-of course! I just have to rearrange my schedule completely!"

With the power of rule behind me, and the more intimate mode of speech boosting me, I declared, "So it shall be! We shall speak with our secretary in order to arrange the matter to Our and thine convenience." Sitting in court sometimes brings my old speech back in this way; for after all, during that time, the throne is mine, and the traditions of court go back more than the thousand years I did not experience while imprisoned.

And so the matter was arranged, and Hidden Spring began to learn from me how to work with an ability that normally would manifest around the time a pony gains her cutie mark. As Hidden Spring already had her mark (water flowing from behind a stone), I knew that there would be some effort required to understand why this manifestation had been delayed.

Observing From the Outside

Observing From the Outside

When morning had come, and my sister and I had exercised our powers as duty demands, I asked to speak with her privately.

"Sister," I said, "Your professors sent a student to me, one Hidden Spring. She has the ability of dreamwalking, yet this specific ability does not seem itself to be her special talent. May I inquire further as to her nature and disposition?"

"Luna," my sister replied, "I am not familiar with Hidden Spring, but she is known for being extremely aware of how ponies are feeling around her. Her magic itself is nothing unusual, but I felt that she has power within that has been waiting for some moment to reveal itself, thus the invitation to her family asking if she would take the entry test for my school. I can provide the monthly reports on the student body if you wish to read about her background and how she performs in her classes."

"I would be pleased to read these reports, as I will be teaching her myself," said I. This startled my dear sister, causing her breath to catch very slightly, though nopony could have noticed but I, so familiar and intimate to her bearing.

"Then I will arrange for you to see them," said she. And the matter was so arranged.

It would be one week before the first lesson with my new student, so I had time to engage the documentation between private activities, observatory lookouts, court sessions, and other such things. Hidden Spring, it was reported, was quiet and exuberant by turns, with few close friends and many acquaintances. She was enthusiastic and capable in classes concerning art, divination and psychology, and argued with her professors over the philosophies of Immanuel Kanter and Brohoof Campbell. However, her grades in more concrete classes, such as Theory of the Abstract Spell, Second-Form Chemistry and Alchemy, and Physical Engineering and Energy, were spotty; she paid attention to some parts, and was confused by or apparently ignored other parts, leading to poor test scores and an overall low grade; yet the papers she wrote were not a mere Babel of words, but coherent and brilliantly argued, even leading some professors to new enlightenment and the improvement of her grade.

It seemed clear that somewhere within this pony was a frustrated soul waiting to leap forth into full prominence. I swore I would do my best by her, whatever it took and whatever that meant, even the discarding of my traditional duties if necessary. So I spent what time I could after reviewing the reports to read a short treatise on modern education. Sadly, it confused me so terribly that I had to send it back and dunk my head in a mountain spring to clear my mind of the strangeness. I resolved after that to use the old form of master and apprentice, if I could. We would have two nights each week to study, and I could waste no time on endless bureaucracy or useless forms of interaction. I supposed the Dean of Students would be displeased, but that was politics, and thus manageable.

Moon and Spirit

Moon and Spirit

The day had come: a Tuesday, and a night with only one Court to hold. That gave us hours to teach and learn, for I had had the night's other work cleared fully away. The plan now instituted was Tuesdays to teach, Wednesdays to review, one long session and one short, so that we each could answer our other obligations without undesirable consequence.

Hidden Spring came to me at the appointed hour of moonrise, whereupon I turned to my sister. "Sister, this is Hidden Spring, my student. I hope to achieve much good with her." Then I turned to Hidden Spring and said, "Hidden Spring, this is my sister, the Princess Celestia, Mare of the Sun." She bowed to us both.

"It is good to see you again, my little pony," said my sister. "How have you been doing in your classes?" As if she had no idea! I did my best to hide a snort.

"Oh, Princess Celestia! They're good! I like them! Except, I get all confused about alchemy and try to add acid to aliment and yesterday I spilled some essence of fool's gold on the workbench and my classmates laughed at me for it, but Dazzler tried to get the professor to let her keep the rag after I cleaned it up, because it was so sparkly. He didn't and I apologized and I'm so sorry it happened." I tilted my head slightly, observing how her ears kept anxiously flipping up and down with her emotions, and the sense of frustration she tried to hide behind a flood of words and personal guilt. After so much time, one learns the power and value of words, and of keeping silent. So I kept silent and let them talk a little longer.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Essence of fool's gold can be dangerous if used improperly, but I'm sure you and your professor acted appropriately. Perhaps Dazzler would be interested in some lessons on how to produce it herself, as well as more valuable and useful materials. I'll speak with her teachers myself on the matter." Celestia paused. "Now, Hidden Spring, I do hear some good things about you, and I'm told a new power is awakening within you! I hope your lessons with my sister Luna go well, and give you new ways to enjoy your abilities."

"Oh! I do hope so, too!" The unicorn looked at me, and a sudden, enormous wave of hope flooded into me, involuntarily causing me to move closer to her. "I want to know more about all this, and why it's happening to me, and what I'm supposed to do! I didn't realize it was part of my special talent, but it makes so much sense that way."

But finally, it was time for me to speak again. "Miss Hidden Spring, I'm told your special talent involves the emotions of ponies. Let us speak of this further, while my sister closes her evening and rests." I turned to Celestia and gave her a brief nuzzle. "Goodnight, my sister. I will see you again at dawn."

And with goodnights among us, we were soon almost alone. My student and I walked out to the Moonwater Garden, where a large reflecting pool showed us the image of the moon and stars slowly crossing the sky.

"Hidden Spring, at this time, I must ask you to do something rarely known in this time. I must ask you to become my apprentice, for the work upon which we are to engage requires dedication of heart and spirit to the task. It is no mere lesson in equations or theories, nor in the construction of material things and forms of artwork, but a lesson on the Art of Truth Within upon which we now engage. This means serious acts for serious things, for knowing Truth can be a heavy burden even as it allows us to ease the burdens of others." She looked up at me, and I down to her, though the difference did not seem too great to me in that moment. "Will you apprentice yourself to me, and do the work I demand of you, and come and go at my desiring, to learn at my knee and my hoof the Art which I will teach you?"

She, too, had studied. "Honored Moon, I will." Her declaration was quiet, yet it had force, and I felt as if she were fixed upon the earth as a solid thing as she said it; she truly was, as they say, a "natural."

"Then I, too, will dedicate myself, as your Mistress, to teaching you the Art in which we soon engage. I will show you what it is and what it means, how it works and what it does, and how to craft it and shape it, allowing you to learn at my knee and my hoof all that I can show you of our work. By the Moon and Stars, so it shall be."

She echoed the last part, as she had obviously learned elsewhere. "By the Moon and Stars, so it shall be."

I nodded and stamped my hoof upon the still water, then took several moments to share breath with my new apprentice. The guards, to their honor, stayed silent and invisible at their stations.

"So. Now we have sworn to each other, I wish you to tell me of your special talent, and what you have learned about it thus far. We are safe here in the Moonwater Garden, so speak freely to me. On these nights, I am as much at your disposal as you are at mine."

So Hidden Spring began to tell me of her ability to feel the inner natures of those around her, as well as the emotions and personal wellness of those who had been in a place, or owned a certain object, or who were good friends with ponies who spoke with her. I nodded with familiar commiseration when she explained how shocked her parents had been to hear her as a young filly tell an old pony his heart was weak and he needed to see the doctor, and then how guilt-ridden she had also been when he died two days later of a heart attack. For quite some time, she had felt responsible for the pains and troubles which she so easily predicted upon sensing the state of health and inner emotion of a given pony. I was, in fact, moved to lie close beside her as her story continued, offering the comfort of my physical presence as she spilled over with grief and fear that had only recently begun to subside as her classes had taught her more about psychology and philosophy, giving her tools she had not known she needed in order to handle the strange powers by which she had earned her cutie mark.

In the end, Hidden Spring lay quiet beside me, tears dried away, spent and tired. I spoke to her of my own lessons, and how harsh they had been: Discord and unrule had been the nature of the world, and within me for years had been a wild rage which only iron discipline had brought to order. I told her how the histories gentled our stories, gave them distance and a dispassionate eye, attempting to justify the acts of force and even violence with which we ponies had tamed and retaken our world. I told her of finding soldiers, wounded, petrified, driven mad, fallen into despair, and how I had felt each one's injuries within myself. I told her how I had burned with rage for their sakes, and with love for each of my ponies, for all of them. And, haltingly, I told my apprentice how, after Discord had been imprisoned, I continued to ache with despair for them, a despair that turned into anger again as I saw how I had been disregarded after the calming and ordering of our world, with work and play each day and quiet rest each night. My discipline became my refuge, until I broke under the weight of my burdens and the whispering darkness, and turned darker than soft night itself, made to use my talent as a weapon in useless revenge. I let the matter briefly hang there, for Hidden Spring was falling asleep, and I would soon have duties to attend.

I nudged my apprentice, and told her, everything changed when the power of friendship and love for others flooded into me with sudden force. Yet there are things which even artifacts of great power cannot fully embody, and only the wholehearted and loving embrace of my sister gave me proper closure on that chapter of my existence.

Then I told her, tonight's lesson is done. I had a Court to hold, and she had a bed to take up, lest she be found sleeping on her hooves in public on the morrow. After goodbyes, she cantered straight off, with a guard beside her to see her safely to her rest. So ended the first of many nights together.