In the Garden of Good and Evil
There were a pair of letters on Twilight Sparkle’s desk. She didn’t like either of them.
They had arrived hours apart, both by magical means. The first, a dusky blue envelope that glimmered faintly in the weak morning light, appeared as staid and ordinary as an envelope could be. Only when she brought her muzzle right up to it, close enough to brush its surface with a chaste kiss, could she sense the power inside. It smelled like primrose.
She wasn’t awake when the letter arrived. She had gone to bed, and when she woke it was on the pillow beside her, the only remnant of a night filled with restless dreams. Long, busy, languid dreams, of which she remembered nothing but silver light and the peal of bells. Dreams that left her heart racing and her coat soaked with sweat.
For the dozenth time that morning, she picked the envelope up and stood it on edge. Regardless of how she turned the letter, it cast no shadow on the table beneath. Every one of her senses – sight, touch, scent, sound, and yes, even taste – insisted that the envelope was a real, physical thing, as normal as any of the thousands of pages in her library.
And yet, no shadow. Huh.
She set the envelope down and turned her attention to its twin. The other letter was far more familiar but no less puzzling: a scroll sealed with Celestia’s mark and delivered by Spike through his usual means. Unlike the envelope, she had cracked it open as soon as it left Spike’s grubby little claws and then spent the next several hours puzzling over its scant three words.
“She means well.”
Twilight unrolled the scroll and read it again on the off chance its message had changed. It had not. Just as useless as before.
“It’s not going to read itself, you know,” Cheerilee said from behind her.
That voice. Twilight couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips every time she heard it, a faint echo of the fillyish desire to bounce around the room shouting “Yes yes yes!” A reminder that she was far luckier than she deserved.
“Maybe I don’t want to read it. Maybe I want to get rid of it,” she said. She gave the envelope a mental flick that sent it sliding across the desk. It stopped at the edge and teetered over her wastebasket like a climber dangling upon a precipice. Another second and it would have tipped over, gone forever, and her life could proceed as planned.
Cheerilee snagged the dangling letter in her mouth and set it safely back on the table. She licked at her lips a few times, as if puzzled by an odd taste, and then circled around to sit beside her lover and friend.
“You’re not curious what’s inside?” she said. “That’s not like you.”
“Oh, I’m curious. That’s what she wants. That’s her hook. She puts an idea in your mind and you can’t get rid of it.”
“Mmm.” Cheerilee reached out a slow hoof and lightly patted the envelope. “Seems safe to me.”
“The last time she sent a letter like this, it was part of a convoluted plot to tear out my heart and stomp on it.” She wanted to spit. “Whatever else it may be, it’s not safe.”
“I see.” Cheerilee wrapped a foreleg around Twilight’s shoulders and pulled her in for a gentle half-hug. “What about the other letter?”
Twilight’s eyes shifted to Celestia’s short, simple missive. “That’s... unusual. She’s never sent me anything like that.”
“Do you think she’s lying?”
Twilight started like somepony had given her tail a fierce yank, and would have bolted to her hooves if Cheerilee’s grip weren’t suddenly so tight. “Wh– Lying? No, why would she...” She trailed off, unable to articulate the incomprehensibility of the thought.
“Right, so, she’s telling the truth. Whatever’s in there, she thinks Luna means well.”
Luna. Twilight winced at the name. They had ducked and dodged around it all morning, but there it was. Luna. Luna Luna Luna.
“So read the letter. What’s the worst that could happen?” Cheerilee leaned forward to catch Twilight’s eye with her own.
Peridot. Sage. Moss. Twilight had spent hours gazing into those eyes, trying a thousand times to name their color. None were perfect. She sighed and turned away before she could get lost in them again.
“Right, worst that could happen.” Her horn lit with a faint purple glow, and the envelope floated toward them. She broke the midnight wax seal and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. A single word was printed on the outside in a flowing, cursive script as delicate and fluid as moonlight. It took Twilight a moment to puzzle through the elaborate swirls and curlicues to see the name beneath.
Cheerilee.
Her horn flickered and died, and the paper tumbled to the table like a fallen bird. A moment later, Cheerilee’s leg around her shoulders tightened.
“Oh,” Cheerilee said.
* * *
In the Garden of Good and Evil
* * *
By mutual accord they retreated to the library’s kitchen. The kitchen was where they kept the coffee, and right at that moment coffee was the most valuable resource in the world. Neither spoke while Cheerilee heated the water and set the pot brewing (Twilight was no longer allowed to operate the coffee maker), and together they waited for the lifegiving scent to fill the room.
Ten minutes later, they were halfway through their second mug apiece. The coffee eased their jitters, and finally Twilight felt confident enough to speak.
“So,” she said.
They finished their coffee in silence. Twilight was about to go back for a third cup when Cheerilee spoke.
“You said it was on your pillow when you woke?”
“Yes.” A pause. “Well, no. I mean, it was on the pillow next to me.”
“So it was on my pillow.”
“Well, you weren’t here! How was I supposed to know?” Cheerilee had spent the previous night at her own house. They weren’t at the point of moving in with each other, after all. They still had their own lives, even if their courses were slowly bending toward each other.
Did Luna know that? Twilight turned the thought over again in her mind. It could be an innocent mistake – it was Cheerilee’s pillow, even if she hadn’t been using it at the time. But then, Luna wasn’t the kind of pony who made mistakes. Certainly not innocent ones. There was nothing innocent about her, even in error.
“It’s alright, Twilight. I’m not saying you did anything wrong. But why would Luna send me a letter?”
Twilight snorted. “Because she has some game in her mind. This is how she plays with ponies.”
“Mhm.” Cheerilee set her mug down and pushed it toward the center of the table. “Well, shall we go read it?”
No. We should go burn it and forget we ever saw it. Twilight glanced through the door into the library’s foyer, where the little slip of dusky paper sat like a shadow on the desk. “Sure, why not.”
They returned to the desk. The morning sun’s rays had shifted while they were gone, and now illuminated the paper and its envelope. Still no shadow beneath either of them, Twilight noticed.
Cheerilee reached out and plucked the paper up. She opened it, cleared her throat, and spent the next several minutes in silence as she read.
Twilight did her best not to fidget. The coffee didn’t help.
Come on, read faster! Read! Read read read read read! Oh come on I need to pee why won’t you read faster—
“Interesting,” Cheerilee said. She folded the note in half and set it down.
Silence. Twilight leaned forward.
More silence. Cheerilee looked thoughtful.
“Well?” Twilight finally asked.
“Hm? Oh, sorry.” Cheerilee put her hoof down on the paper, trapping it. “Would you like to read it, Twilight?” she asked in her best schoolteacher’s voice. Only the shadow of a smile on her lips betrayed her.
“I would like that very much.”
Cheerilee slid the paper toward her. Twilight nearly tore it with her magic before Cheerilee could lift her hoof.
Cheerilee,
Please forgive my impertinence in contacting you this way. If Twilight Sparkle is there with you, please beg her forgiveness for me as well; I imagine she is somewhat cross with me at the moment.
After consulting with my sister, I have decided to restore an ancient celebration that fell out of favor and was forgotten shortly after my banishment. The Bacchanalia, as it was known, is held at the vernal equinox, and celebrates the new life that Spring heralds every year.
In years past, poetry was a significant part of the celebrations. I understand that you have some knowledge of poetry, and, as a friend, I would like to invite you to attend and participate in the inaugural celebration.
If you desire to attend, bring this letter to our old castle in the Everfree at midnight on the equinox.
-HRH Princess Luna
P.S. This is an intimate event, but please feel free to bring one other pony of your choosing. Anypony at all; it does not matter to me.
Twilight read the note again, then carefully refolded it and set it on the table. She spent a moment carefully composing her thoughts.
“That... bitch!”
“Twilight!”
Twilight ducked at the rebuke, suddenly a schoolfilly again. “Sorry! Sorry. It’s just... oh, come on! ‘One other pony of your choosing?’ She’s not even trying to be subtle.”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t seem too harmful, does it? Just a little celebration with some poetry.”
Twilight snorted. “It’s not just a celebration with some poetry, Cheer. There’s always more to it with her.”
“Perhaps.” Cheerilee’s eyes darted to the other, nearly forgotten scroll. “But you trust Celestia, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but...” Twilight found her eyes drawn to Celestia’s scroll. She could see its three simple words in her mind. “Even if Luna means well, that doesn’t mean this is a good idea. I’ve never even heard of this alleged celebration.”
“Bacchanalia.” Cheerilee said it slowly, as if tasting the syllables. “Doesn’t sound so terrible.”
“Hmph.”
“Twilight.” Cheerilee leaned closer, her voice dropping. “Would it make you feel better if you came with me?”
Twilight snorted. “That’s what she wants. She’s being obvious about it.”
“Yes, I suppose she is.” She paused. “Well?”
Twilight sighed. It wasn’t a good idea. In fact, it was a terrible idea. It was quite possibly the worst Luna-related idea anypony had voiced to her since her ill-fated attempt to win the princess’s heart.
And yet, was she not older now, and wiser? A wounded heart heals and grows scars, and those scars are its armor. Besides, she had to keep Cheerilee safe from the crazy moon bitch.
She sighed. “Alright. Bacchanalia it is, then.”
* * *
“Find anything?” Cheerilee’s voice was like a balm on Twilight Sparkle’s nervous mind.
Twilight shook her head and frowned at book she had been reading. It was a large tome, pulled from the history section of the library, and supposedly a detailed account of the years following Nightmare Moon’s banishment. None of her other books went further back in time, and this only scratched at those long-ago events.
“Nothing useful,” she said. “Only one direct reference, and all it said was that the ‘bacchanal’ fell out of favor following Luna’s banishment. It sounds like drinking was involved.”
“So, drinking and poetry? I think I attended these in college.”
“You should fit right in, then.” It sounded snippy, even in her own ears. Twilight folded up the book and levitated it back to a large pile for Spike to reshelve later, and then turned back to the desk to give her notebook a little frown. It was virtually empty, a sad accounting of her fruitless research.
Cheerilee wrapped her forelegs around Twilight’s seated form and hugged her close to whisper. “You sound nervous. Are you worried about this? You don’t have to go.” Her breath tickled Twilight’s ear.
Twilight closed her eyes and leaned back. The weight of the earth pony wrapped around her was warmer than any blanket, softer than a cloud, and tinged with the faint scent of sunflowers that had long since become synonymous in her mind with love. Her ear twitched, batting at Cheerilee’s nose in time with her breath.
If I don’t answer, will you keep holding me?
Cheerilee wasn’t a mind reader, at least to Twilight’s knowledge, but she held Twilight tight in her grasp; like all good teachers, Cheerilee knew what ponies needed, even if it was just a hug. Hugs that might last a good long while, whether they were snuggled beneath the covers on a cold winter night, wrapped around each other in post-coital bliss, or simply offering comfort in a quiet library on the eve of the vernal equinox.
“I haven’t seen her since that night, you know,” Twilight mumbled. She turned her head just enough to brush her cheek against Cheerilee’s. “I still haven’t forgiven her. Then she pulls this... thing on us.”
“She means well now, though.”
“She always meant well, Cheers. That’s what’s so insane about her. The whole time she was playing with me, she thought she was doing a good thing.”
“Mmm.” Cheerilee’s hum vibrated in Twilight’s chest. “Did she?”
“Did she what?”
“Did she do a good thing? She brought us together.” Cheerilee dragged the edge of her hoof down Twilight’s chest, teasing at the unruly ruff of coat she could never get to lie flat now matter how long she brushed it.
Twilight snorted. “No, we brought us together. Don’t go reading any good intentions into her.”
“Maybe she’s changed.”
“She’s thousands of years old.” Twilight tried half-heartedly to pull away, without any success. “She didn’t change in the space of a few months.”
“Everypony can change, love. Maybe you should give her another chance.” She nibbled on the edge of Twilight’s ear.
“She’s not a pony. She just is. You need to understand that if you’re going to be her new friend.” The words came out with even more bite than Twilight intended, and she wished she could somehow reel them back into her mouth.
Cheerilee stiffened, and the legs wrapped around Twilight’s chest suddenly unwrapped and vanished. The air against her coat was chilly by comparison.
“I just, uh...” Twilight turned, trying to catch Cheerilee’s eye. No dice. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Cheerilee was silent for a while. She stepped across the foyer to Twilight’s writing desk, where the dusky blue invitation from Luna still sat. They discovered last night that it only cast a shadow in moonlight. As if the sun’s rays didn’t touch it.
“Well, you’ll just have to keep me safe.” She turned back to give Twilight a tiny smile.
Those eyes. The tension in Twilight’s heart melted, and she was lost again.
* * *
The Everfree Forest never seemed to change. Winter, summer, autumn; always it was filled with fog and darkness. The setting sun cast long shadows across the overgrown path, and its light was swallowed quickly on either side. Gnarled trees choked with moss and vines crowded them. In the distance, in the quiet haunting gloom, something large moved through the grey mists.
For Twilight, the Everfree was a dangerous but familiar foe. She’d been in and through it more times than she could recall, either on various foolish adventures or simply visiting Zecora’s hut. Of her friends, only Fluttershy spent more time in the Everfree forest.
Cheerilee had never, to Twilight’s knowledge, set hoof in the Everfree. Her head was on a swivel, spinning around to face each little crack and whistle in the forest around them, and her ears twitched like flags in a fierce wind. It was a wonder she had made it this far, really.
“You okay?”
Cheerilee bobbed her head. “Yes. Yes, fine.” She stepped a bit closer to Twilight. “You come out here with your friends all the time, don’t you?”
“Well, not all the time. But yes, I guess we have been out here more than most sensible ponies would consider prudent.”
They walked together in silence. Behind them, Ponyville receded into the distance, its sounds and scents lost in the hush and earthy loam of the forest. The sky to the west burned with a brilliant orange radiance as the sun fell below the horizon, and just as quickly dusk overtook the world, bleeding it of color and form. Only vague dark outlines remained.
“You’ve been there, right?” Cheerilee asked. Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible above the droning wind. “The castle?”
Twilight nodded. To the east a fat, bloated moon slowly crept above the trees, painting everything in its silver light. Charcoal clouds rimmed in white floated across the sky. “Just once. It was where everything started, actually. We found the elements, defeated Nightmare Moon, discovered our friendship... Yeah, everything started there.”
“What’s it like?”
“Old. I asked Celestia once why it was abandoned. All she said was that it held too many memories.”
“And Canterlot doesn’t?” Cheerilee craned her head around to peer at the mountains to the north. Perched upon the side of the tallest, like a bird hanging from a tree, was the gleaming jewel of Celestia’s city.
“Not yet, I guess. Maybe one day it will end up like the Everfree, and she’ll have a new castle somewhere else.”
That killed the conversation, and for another hour they trekked deeper into the forest. No hint of Ponyville or the sun touched them; the forest might as well have extended a thousand miles in every direction. Only the weak path, winding like a snake but moving ever southward, provided any sign that their destination still existed in the Everfree’s heart.
The night had started with a chill, but as the moon rose into the sky the forest seemed to grow warmer. Whether that was another manifestation of the Everfree’s general weirdness, or simply a high pressure system moving in, Twilight couldn’t say. Even the wind around them was merely balmy, rather than biting at their coats like it had just days ago in Ponyville. It could easily have been an early summer evening rather than the last night of winter.
Eventually they came to a wide chasm, across which a rickety wooden bridge provided suspect passage. It didn’t look to Twilight like anypony had used the poor thing since she and her friends had crossed it all those years ago. She tested the first plank with her hoof, then quickly trotted across. Cheerilee waited until she was done before crossing herself, and they continued the final few miles to the castle. Bits of rubble dotted the forest beside them, huge fragments of fallen walls that stuck out from the earth like the exposed bones of some long dead monster. Broken statues – earth ponies, unicorns, pegasi and alicorns – poked through the vegetation. Time had worn away their features, until all that remained were smooth, empty expressions and hollow eyes.
“Lovely place,” Cheerilee muttered. She stumbled as her hoof struck a hidden rock, which on closer inspection turned out to be a stone foal no larger than an apple. Cheerilee grimaced and picked up her pace.
“I told you, this is what she does. She toys with ponies.” Twilight paused for Cheerilee to catch up. “She probably chose this place on purpose, just so we’ll be weirded out when she arrives.”
“Or maybe she wanted someplace that felt familiar to her,” Cheerilee said. “Not everything she does has to be part of a plot, you know.”
Right. Twilight snorted. “You don’t know her, Cheers. You can’t keep thinking of her like a normal pony.” Like a good pony.
They rounded a corner in the path, and ahead of them the forest opened into a vast clearing, miles across, with a jagged mountain of ruins in its center. A few lonely towers still stood in the distance, surrounding the shell of a keep that had somehow withstood the worst of time’s ravages. Dappled shadows drifted across the shattered remains as clouds blocked the moon.
A flash of movement caught Twilight’s eye. She glanced up in time to see thousands of dark specks passing across the moon. Birds migrating back north, perhaps. Or bats out for a night feast. She checked the woods behind her, then started toward the keep with Cheerilee in tow.
“You have the letter?” she asked over her shoulder.
Cheerilee nodded and reached into her saddlebag with her snout, emerging with the dusky blue paper. It sparkled in the moonlight, somehow far brighter than when they had read it during the day. Twilight snagged it from Cheerilee’s lips and floated it in front of them like a talisman.
“Is it midnight yet? Are we early?” Cheerilee asked.
“A little bit, I think.” Twilight looked up at the moon and compared its position with a few of the brighter stars. It wasn’t quite at its zenith yet.
“Last chance, then. Are you sure you want to do this? We can still go home.”
“And let her win? No.”
Cheerilee gave her a nudge with her shoulder. “I don’t think it’s supposed to be a competition, love.”
“We’ll see.” Sometimes, being grumpy was its own perverse pleasure. Now was definitely one of those times, and she wasn’t about to let any naive concerns for Luna ruin that. She sat down on her haunches to wait out the remaining minutes before midnight.
As the moon rose higher, the ruins gained more detail. Color was still gone from the world, but as her eyes adapted to the night, the shapes around her grew in relief. She could see the lines between stone blocks where the mortar had long since rotted away. She could see the black vines growing like spiderwebs up the ramshackle walls, still leafless on this last day of winter. She could see a lone monstrous statue hunched upon a pedestal a few dozen yards away. It had somehow survived the centuries without wear; its stone horns were smooth and sharp, its ape-like face still a mass of wrinkles and teeth. Whatever artist had carved this beast must have been a troubled, troubled soul—
As if sensing her gaze, the statue’s head suddenly turned to regard her. Stone wings as large as sails rose from its back, and its mouth opened to reveal rows upon rows of teeth nestled like a shark’s. A clawed fist as large as her head ground against the pedestal, releasing a tortured shriek that split the night.
Twilight heard a strangled gasp from behind her, even as her own throat closed in panic. She clamored to her hooves and stepped in front of Cheerilee, her horn pointed at the monster like a weapon.
“Celestia, what is it?” Cheerilee managed to croak.
“It’s a gargoyle. Stay behind me.” Twilight had no illusions of being able to defeat a full grown gargoyle. With any luck, though, she could put up enough of a fight to convince it to leave them alone. A dozen possible spells flashed through her mind, and her horn began to glow with a purple light.
“That won’t be necessary, Twilight Sparkle.” The voice came from behind her. Imperious, resonant, languid. It flowed through her ears like poison, and she knew without turning who had spoken. For a moment, she felt an overwhelming urge to spin around and use the spell brewing in her horn against this new arrival.
Common sense and self-preservation won out, however. She kept her horn pointed at the gargoyle, which hadn’t moved from its new position. It didn’t even seem to breathe.
“Luna,” she said. No title, no how-do-you-do. That wretched name was all she could force herself to say.
“Good evening, Twilight.” The shadows around them darkened and contracted into a single black point that swallowed their vision and left them momentarily blind. In an instant the darkness faded, and Luna stood before them in all her terrible majesty. As tall as her sister, or perhaps a bit taller, with an elegant spiraling horn that tapered to a point so fine it vanished from sight. The silver moonlight shone like the sun on her flowing mane, which glowed with the light of a thousand stars and nebulae and galaxies. Her wings, as dark as a raven’s and long enough to sweep against the ground, fluttered in the faint breeze. The grass at her hooves bent toward her, bowing in supplication.
“Welcome to the Bacchanal.”
* * *
Twilight wanted to spit. She wanted to shout and curse. She wanted to punch and scratch and bite the smug, loathsome visage of the Princess of Night. To wipe that ugly little smile from Luna’s face and grind her mane into the dirt until it hung in limp filthy strings that would never again flow in the wind.
Luna’s smile deepened. Its corners turned up in a sneer to expose her perfect white teeth, each one a brilliant little star against her coal-black coat. For a moment, just a moment, a look of malice and euphoria shone on her face.
Just as quickly it was extinguished and replaced by chagrin. She bit her lip and turned her head, her eyes darting around before settling behind Twilight on Cheerilee. Her ears perked back up, and she smiled again, this time warmly.
“Cheerilee, I apologize for the poor welcome. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
“Yes, your Highness,” Cheerilee’s strained voice sounded behind Twilight. She turned to see Cheerilee still staring, eyes wide, at the frozen gargoyle still perched just a dozen yard away.
Oh, right. Terrible, pony-eating monster.
Luna turned to follow Cheerilee’s gaze. “Ah, yes. Beautiful specimen, isn’t he? I haven’t seen a gargoyle that magnificent in an age.”
Something about her tone struck Twilight as off. Or at least different than it should have been. It was definitely not the tone one used when speaking about a dangerous monster. Luna spoke again before she could continue that thought.
“But you need not fear him tonight. Gargoyles rarely bother ponies, and he is here at my invitation as well. This will be a peaceful gathering.”
Right. A peaceful gathering. Twilight gave the gargoyle a long stare before speaking. “Is he here for the poetry too?”
“He is not,” Luna said matter-of-factly. She began walking around the gargoyle, leading them along the edge of the vast clearing. “I should be honest with you both. Poetry is not a significant part of the Bacchanalia.”
They were silent for a few steps. The woods to their left swallowed the moonlight whole, filled with nothing but darkness. The clearing and its ruins to their right were easily visible to Twilight now that her eyes had fully adjusted.
“When you say not a significant part...” Cheerilee trailed off.
Luna looked almost bashful for a moment before raising her head again. “Well, there’s none tonight, I suppose. Like I said in the letter, this is the first time I've celebrated it in over a thousand years, and certain traditions will take longer to resurrect than others.”
“So what is tonight about?” Twilight asked. She kept herself carefully between Cheerilee and the princess as they walked abreast along the trees. The earth beneath her hooves was torn and overturned with roots as thick as her leg.
Luna didn’t answer for some time, instead leading them further away from the clearing’s entrance. For nearly a mile they walked in the darkness, until the woods began to thin to their left, and another pathway leading away from the ruins revealed itself. Luna stopped when they reached the foot of the path.
“There are some things I need to tell you before we go any further,” she said. For once she spoke without the cunning, knowing tones that Twilight was so used to hearing from her lips. “This is not a ceremony like my sister’s Summer Sun Celebration. It is an event that lasts as long as you choose to participate. At any time you may leave and walk home. The creatures of the Everfree will not bother you until the sun sets again.
“You may do whatever you please here, so long as you follow a small but important set of rules,” Luna continued. “These rules will keep you safe, but more importantly they will keep you from hurting anyone else.”
Rules were good. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, Twilight Sparkle loved rules; they were what separated organized, efficient ponies from everypony else. They were a good thing.
Usually.
“What do you mean—”
A loud crack split the night, louder than anything they had heard in hours, louder even than the stone-on-stone squeal of the gargoyle. Twilight jumped as just yards away a massive, gnarled oak’s trunk split lengthwise, from its twisted roots up dozens of feet to its grasping crown. Shards of bark fell on them like hail, and the night filled with the rich scent of overturned earth and loam and sap. A dark hollow opened within the tree, and when the tortured sound of breaking wood finally ceased, something like a pony stepped out.
Twilight couldn’t tell the color of its coat in the silver moonlight. Tan, maybe, or pale green. It was light, with faint spots like a fawn. Its eyes were wide and shining and wet in the darkness, half-hidden beneath a mane decorated with tiny bright flowers. Twisted wooden antlers rose from its – no, her – forehead, and as it moved toward them Twilight saw that its mane was not hair but leaves like the fronds on a fern. The flowers were growing from her scalp.
The creature stopped a few steps from Luna. They stared at each other in utter silence, until on some unseen signal it bent its knee and bowed to the princess, brushing the bare earth with its antlers. It briefly held the pose, as still as the tree that had borne it, before rising back to its full, regal height. Before Twilight could catch her breath or calm her frantically beating heart, it turned and bounded into the woods, as graceful as a deer.
Silence reigned again, broken by the occasional twig falling from the ruined oak that had until moments ago entombed the spirit. Twilight felt her legs begin to quiver, and beside her she could hear Cheerilee’s frantic breath. She tried to speak, nearly choked on her dry tongue, swallowed a few times, and tried again.
“What... what was that?”
“That was a dryad, Twilight,” Luna said. If she noticed their stupefaction, she was polite enough not to let it show. “They are shy creatures. I will have to ask Celestia, but I think it may have been centuries since any pony has seen one.”
“Dryads are make-believe,” Cheerilee said in a faint voice. She sounded like a foal.
“Ah, well then. Perhaps it wasn’t.” Luna chuckled quietly before resuming her slow walk, this time further into the woods. Their new path was irregular, winding around the trees and stones rather than plunging straight into the forest. “As I was saying, there are some rules you must agree to.”
“Umm...” Twilight spent a full minute staring into the broken oak. Nothing remained inside that she could see – where its heartwood should have been was a hollow space about the size of a pony. When she finally looked up, Luna was a good thirty paces down the path. She raced to catch up, Cheerilee a few steps behind.
“What kind of rules?”
“Easy rules,” Luna whispered. “First, never remove your mask.”
“What mask?” Cheerilee stayed close to Twilight’s side. She never looked at Luna, instead staring intently at each tree as they passed it. Waiting for it to burst open and spill out some new monster, Twilight assumed.
Luna stopped abruptly, as if startled by the question. “Ah, yes.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and her horn began to glow with a faint blue light. “I have a gift for you.”
Her horn glowed for a moment longer and flashed with a bright light that ruined Twilight’s hard-won night vision. When the spots in her eyes cleared, a small dark object hung suspended in the air before her. She took it with her own magic and floated it closer for inspection.
It was a mask, as Luna suggested, but if its goal was to conceal her identity it would fare poorly. Its matte surface was a blue so dark as to appear almost black, and covered only the space around her eyes. A domino mask, Rarity would have called it, with a frill of purple feathers the same shade as her mane rising from its top. She turned it over and floated it into position over her eyes.
“Striking,” Cheerilee said in her ear. Twilight turned to see the earth pony wearing her own mask, a dark scarlet wrap that appeared black in the moon’s silver light. It covered more of her face, and instead of feathers was outlined with crystal panels that gave it a mosaic-like appearance. For all that, it was still a poor concealer of identity; there was no mistaking the mare behind it for anypony but Cheerilee.
“Keep them on at all times,” Luna said. “I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it will protect you.”
“Right...” Twilight wanted to scoff, but their evening was already filled with more weirdness than she had expected. Perhaps the masks weren’t a terrible idea. “What else?”
“Second, everything you do must enjoy the full consent of every being involved.”
Two parts of that rule immediately set off alarms and red flags in Twilight’s mind. Little bits of the evening’s puzzle fell together. She came to a sudden, shocked stop in the path.
“Consent? Luna, is there... is this about sex?” She didn’t voice her second worry: Luna’s odd use of the word ‘being’ instead of ‘ponies.’
Luna stopped and turned. She looked nervous as she considered her answer, biting her lip and darting about with her eyes. “Not as such, Twilight. But yes, there will be sex at this ceremony. A great deal of it in fact. You will not be required to partake in any of it, if you so choose.”
Twilight huffed. The whole evening was suddenly revealed for what it was, a silly plot of Luna’s to try and drive a wedge between her and Cheerilee. It was so ridiculous that Twilight would have laughed if she weren’t in the middle of the Everfree forest surrounded by Celestia-knows-what monsters and a crazy moon princess. That thought filled her with sudden anger; it was one thing for Luna to drag her into a dangerous situation, but to bring Cheerilee, a school teacher, into her schemes was beyond irresponsible. She opened her mouth to begin a rant that would have shredded the last bits of goodwill between them.
“I see the anger on your face, Twilight,” Luna said before she could begin. Her voice was calm and measured, as soothing as she had ever heard from the princess. “I understand your skepticism. I had not originally intended to invite either of you, knowing I might be misunderstood.”
“Why did you then, Princess?” Cheerilee said. She set her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, a gentle soothing reminder of her presence.
“Please, Cheerilee, call me Luna here. This celebration is not a royal function.” She resumed her slow walk down the winding path. “And to answer your question, she asked me to.”
“She?” Twilight hesitated. Cheerilee did not, following beside the princess as they delved deeper into the night. After a moment, she hurried to catch up.
“My sister. Now, there is one final rule. You must never speak to anyone of what you see tonight. Not even to each other.”
“Celestia?!” Twilight gawked at the princess and tripped on an unseen root. When she stood, her companions were a few yards deeper into the woods. They hadn’t even noticed. “Why would Cele— Why would Princess Celestia want us here?”
Luna continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “This rule is different from the rest. It is magically enforced and will bind you the moment you agree to join the ceremony. You will never be able to speak or write about tonight’s events. Attempting to do so will be... hmm, unpleasant.”
“What? No.” Twilight came to a full stop, planting her hooves on the path. “No. Enough. This has gone beyond farce. You want us to accept a geas for the rest of our lives, just to participate in some silly ceremony? A ceremony filled with sex that you claim Princess Celestia wants me to attend? Luna, I could not have invented a lie more ridiculous—”
“I accept,” Cheerilee said. Her voice, quiet and relaxed, nevertheless stopped Twilight dead.
Luna stared at her for a moment, Twilight utterly ignored behind them. Eventually, she dipped her head in a tiny nod. It was the most supplicant gesture Twilight had ever seen from the princess.
Twilight gawked at her mate. Cheerilee, her Cheerilee, her school teacher poetry lover. The scarlet wrap around her face did nothing to disguise her appearance, but suddenly she seemed a stranger, a changeling. This could not be the mare she knew and loved.
“Cheers...” She took a stumbling step forward and pressed her muzzle against Cheerilee’s mane to whisper in her ear. “Please. You don’t know her. This is what she does. She’s lying.”
“She means well, remember?” Cheerilee answered. Her eyes stayed fixed on Luna as she softly spoke. “Celestia wanted us to do this. Give her a chance.”
Cheerilee couldn’t understand, of course. She didn’t know how twisted Luna could be, how easily she toyed with hearts. They were like candies to Luna, little snacks to be consumed and enjoyed and forgotten.
But now Cheerilee had foolishly accepted Luna’s demands, and there was nothing to be done for it. Twilight sighed quietly and turned back to the princess.
The look on Luna’s face was foreign to Twilight; her eyes were hooded, her brows drawn slightly together. If Twilight hadn’t known better she would have called the expression regret. But that, of course, was an emotion Luna could not feel.
“Alright, I accept,” she said. “But so help me, Luna, if you hurt her...”
Luna nodded. Her horn glowed again, and a bright flash filled the night. When it cleared, Luna’s eyes were hidden behind a silver mask without any features or form. Only tiny holes allowed it any sight at all, and it was as empty as a dark winter night.
“Let us continue, then,” she said, and led them further into the Everfree.
* * *
They reached the clearing shortly. The moon was still high above them, perched in the sky like a dim echo of the sun. It cast enough light to read a book by, and Twilight could easily make out the colors in her and Cheerilee’s coat. The chill of night was long gone, replaced by a warmth that was utterly out of place just hours before spring’s first light.
“We are fortunate,” Luna whispered. She slowly shed her royal regalia as they walked; her crown, torc and shoes melted away like mist until she stood as naked as the rest of them, the silver mask her only accoutrement. “Not one year in thirty does the equinox fall on the full moon. It is fitting.”
Twilight stopped at the edge of the clearing. It was more of a glade, far smaller than the vast opening around the ruins behind them. Stately oaks and ashes stood watchful guard around its perimeter and held the forest at bay. A small stone altar, not much larger than her kitchen table back home, stood atop a raised pedestal in the center of the open space. Beside it sat a stone-ringed pool perhaps a dozen yards across. Faint ripples danced across its surface as a light wind swept past them.
The clearing seemed empty. Twilight looked around to make sure, then turned to Luna. “Are we early?”
Luna chuckled. “In a sense. The Bacchanal does not begin at any particular time. However, it must end at sunrise. That is the only time that matters.”
She took a step into the clearing and paused with her head upturned toward the moon. She drank its light and inhaled, her wings rising like fans from her side. Naked, imperial, majestic; Twilight had never seen a pony so achingly beautiful. Her perfect form, lithe as a cat, strong and graceful, nearly brought Twilight to tears. Months of anger and resentment melted like ice in the sun. Not even the presence of Cheerilee at her side could prevent the stirrings deep within her body.
“Oh, stars...” She heard Cheerilee whisper beside her. The desire in her voice was unmistakable.
“The sun will rise in just over five hours,” Luna said. “I must begin. Remember the three rules, and nothing here will harm you. You may participate or not to whatever extent pleases you.” With that she crouched, then leapt into the air with a powerful beat of her wings. The blast of air nearly knocked Twilight from her hooves, and for a moment she lost sight of Luna against the black sky.
A silver streak caught her eye as Luna plummeted toward the altar. She landed on it with a graceful flap of her wings and crouched, her wings mantled like a bird of prey protecting its meal. She raised a foreleg, paused, then slammed it down to strike the stone altar with a sound like a cannon. Twilight’s ears rang from the deafening report, and all around her the trees shook in sympathy.
The echo faded, and silence reigned again. Twilight was still shaking her head to clear it when a faint rustle caught her ears. It sounded like hoofsteps, and she turned in time to see the dryad emerge from the forest behind them. It stepped through the thick underbrush like it was water and came to a stop just feet away, its huge eyes fixed on Luna’s frozen form.
Twilight couldn’t help but stare. Seen from so close, the creature was obviously not a pony; her coat appeared to be some soft, fibrous moss; her mane was a thick mass of fronds and flowers and long stalks of grass. Twin branches in the shape of antlers grew from just above her eyes, and her legs ended in curls of wood rather than hooves. A faint scent – something like spring water and wet stones and wildflowers – teased at Twilight’s nostrils.
The dryad turned toward her suddenly. Their eyes met, and Twilight saw the small bark mask perched atop her nose. It was easy to miss, as brown as her coat with a rough texture that blended into the leaves of her mane. They stared at each other for a moment, until the dryad’s somber face lit with a tiny smile. She leaned forward, and before Twilight could flinch away, brushed her lips against Twilight’s. Just as quickly she was gone, cantering toward the center of the clearing, leaving Twilight mute and stunned behind her.
“Whoa,” Cheerilee said. She sounded nearly as surprised as Twilight felt. “Did it just kiss you?”
“She,” Twilight corrected. It was automatic, taking precedence even over her shock. “She’s female.”
Cheerilee looked like she wanted to say something more, but before she could continue other guests began to arrive. The sky filled with dark specks that slowly grew and resolved into winged forms that swept down into the glade. Some, Twilight recognized: several bat-winged pegasi with grey coats and tufted ears landed near the pool at the center of the clearing.
Others were less familiar.
One creature that might have been a dragon landed near her, but rather than leathery wings bore feathers in all the colors of the rainbow. They were brilliant even in the light of the moon, and sparkled as it turned in place, its long lizard-like tail sweeping just above the ground. Its handsome face could have been a pony’s, if it were not for the tiny pebbled texture of scales barely visible behind its feathered mask. If Twilight had to guess, she would have called it male.
A quiet clicking sound caught her ear, and she spun to see what could only be a changeling land beside Cheerilee. Its glossy chitinous armor cast a dozen oily reflections of the moon. Iridescent wings blurred so fast they vanished from sight, and suddenly the changeling was gone, replaced by an exact duplicate of Cheerilee. Only its mask was different – rather than Cheerilee’s scarlet wrap, it wore a bright green mask sprouting antennae like a beetle.
Cheerilee gawked at her twin and reached a hesitant hoof up to brush its curled mane. The thick, luscious hair surrendered gently to her touch, and the changeling laughed. Its voice was high and merry and indistinguishable from the real Cheerilee’s.
A green flame washed over the changeling, and when it cleared Cheerilee’s form was gone, replaced by Twilight’s. Only its insect mask remained. The doppelganger licked its lips and gave them a smile so seductive it practically dripped sex, and then it spun away in pursuit of other new arrivals.
“Okay, that was a little freaky,” Cheerilee said.
Freaky was one word for it. Terrifying was another. Twilight watched her mirror image bounce away, even as more shapes descended from the sky. She thought she recognized the gargoyle from before, but most were so alien she couldn’t even begin to understand them. All wore some form of mask.
Freaky, terrifying, and... maybe a little arousing. That smile; she hadn’t realized such a look could even exist on her face. Her mind flashed back to the images of the two Cheerilee’s, their faces just inches away from each other...
What would they look like, kissing? What would they look like, wrapped in each others legs, muzzles nipping at each others necks and shoulders and flanks? Would they sound the same when Twilight touched them? Would they smell the same? Dear Celestia, would they taste the same?
Yes, definitely a little arousing.
On the far side of the clearing, a pair of zebras stepped from the woods, each wearing a tall, ornate tribal mask similar to those decorating Zecora’s hut. Their heads bent toward each other, and then they split apart, moving in opposite paths around the filling glade. Both appeared to be male, and Twilight had no idea where they could have come from. Another mystery for later.
The small pond near the center of the glade began to bubble, and an odd shape a bit larger than a pony suddenly breached its surface. Water ran in streams down the huge, elegant frills rising from its head where its mane should have been, down its glossy skin to patter in the pool. Thousands of bright yellow spots glowed like fireflies in the frills and all along its face. Its forelimbs rose above the water and came to rest on the stone rim, and Twilight could see they were shaped more like flippers than hooves. Long black claws emerged from the ends of its arms, looking far more fearsome than the tranquil expression on its face. A clear, crystalline mask with a faint blue tinge like ice covered its eyes and cheeks.
The sea creature... pony... thing shook its head, sending a shower of droplets spraying from its frills. When it was as dry as it could reasonably expect, it turned to gaze up at Luna’s still-unmoving form.
A few yards away, a pair of griffins pointed at the water creature and whispered to each other. Twilight could barely hear the sibilant hiss and click of their native tongue. They wore identical iron masks molded to fit over the curve of their beaks and bearing no decorations except faint reddish-brown streaks trailing from the eyes.
It’s rust, her mind whispered.
“Okay, don’t... don’t panic.” Twilight pressed herself against Cheerilee and turned to make sure nothing could sneak up on them. So far, aside from the harmless play of the dryad and changeling, nothing seemed to be paying them any attention.
The clearing had filled with even more creatures while they were occupied, all gathering around the stone altar and Luna’s unmoving form. Most were mundane species she had seen before; others she recognized from her books as visitors from foreign lands, though how they had arrived in the middle of the Everfree was a mystery. A fair number of monsters or mythical beasts mingled in the crowd, like the dryad and gargoyle from before. Some were so alien she couldn’t even guess their names. There wasn’t much room left in the glade, and Twilight began to wonder how many more beings Luna had invited.
The question answered itself a moment later. Luna’s head turned to gaze across the clearing into the woods beyond, her first movement since she had landed on the altar. A path opened in the crowd before her, and from the forest emerged a stag larger than any Twilight had ever seen. Its antlers rose like a hundred-pointed crown from its forehead, and it stepped with a stately grace and assurance that Twilight had only ever witnessed in the princesses. Even from dozens of yards away, Twilight could sense the air of age and majesty it wore like a cloak. Two smaller deer, both does with vastly smaller antlers, escorted him as he moved into the crowd.
The stag came to a stop near the front of the crowd. The buzz of a dozen conversations ended, and all eyes returned to Luna. The moment stretched out and out. The hammering of Twilight’s heart in her ears was the only sound.
Eventually, minutes later, a pony dared break the frozen tableau. An earth pony stallion, large and colored white like one of Celestia’s guards, stepped toward the altar. He paused at its foot, one hoof still in the air, and looked up at Luna.
Time stood still again as Luna regarded the stallion. Their masks were nearly identical, Twilight saw; his a plain, unornamented gold that matched her silver almost perfectly. They stared at each other as the crowd held its breath.
He was good enough, she apparently decided. Her legs folded beneath her to rest upon the altar, and her head dipped to meet his. Their lips touched in a kiss that started chaste, just a little brush, but quickly grew more heated. The stallion stretched his head higher, and their mouths opened to each other.
As if on a signal, the crowd began to move. Ponies, creatures and monsters turned toward each other, hesitantly reaching out to their neighbors. Sound returned to the clearing.
The Bacchanalia had begun.
* * *
Years of researching into the magic of friendship had taught Twilight Sparkle many things about the world and the ponies in it. Her friends, completely aside from their roles as the Elements of Harmony, had taught her much about loyalty, kindness, honesty, generosity and laughter. She had learned that the world was a great big place, with more mystery and wonder and joy than she could have imagined, all waiting for her to discover.
But one lesson she set above all others. She learned from the mare beside her the greatest truth: that wealth is not measured in bits or fame or power, but in the most cherished treasure of all. Love.
None of her studies had prepared her for an orgy, though.
“Oh, umm...” She turned, placing her back against Cheerilee, the one pony here she trusted. All around her, couples and threesomes and even-moresomes were cautiously coming together, reaching out to touch bodies and faces and manes with whatever appendages fate had granted them. Some of the more adventurous groups were already closer than that, exploring their partners bodies with lips and tongues.
“What, uh, what do we do?” she whispered over her shoulder to Cheerilee, who stared at the goings-on around them with an open mouth.
“You needn’t do anything, little pony,” a rough voice growled from just a few feet away. “Or, you may do as much as you wish.”
Twilight spun around to face the creature that had somehow snuck up on them. It looked like a diamond dog, if a diamond dog were to work in a nice office rather than underground digging for gems. Even sitting on its haunches it loomed over her by at least a head, though its posture was entirely unthreatening. Its claws were neatly trimmed and polished; its meticulously brushed fur fluttered in the faint breeze. Most oddly of all was the pink, smiling unicorn mask perched on its face – it even had a fake horn.
“You, uh... we can do what?” Twilight asked. She hadn’t felt so foolish and tongue-tied in years.
“Anything. Or nothing.” His voice was so deep it shook her chest. “Simply being here to observe is an honor. A thousand years have passed since her worshipfulness last held this ceremony.”
Twilight turned back to the altar, where several more ponies and other beings had joined the princess. They seemed to be in no hurry, exchanging kisses and gentle caresses. A griffin preened the feathers in Luna’s wings, while the earth pony stallion who had started the whole ceremony peppered her face with kisses. It was loving and slow and sweet, and Twilight’s heart melted a little at the sight.
And, yes, a little arousing. She bit her lip and turned back to the diamond dog. He had followed her gaze and was staring at the princess. Her eyes drifted down his frame, taking in its odd curves and angles, so different from a pony’s. Even the way he sat was different. She leaned forward slightly to get a better look, and then suddenly jerked back, her eyes frantically searching for somewhere safer to look. Apparently he found the proceedings a little arousing as well.
“You’ve heard about this ceremony before?” Cheerilee asked. Her gaze was politely fixed on the diamond dog’s face, and if she noticed anything else, she kept it to herself.
“Yes, little pony. In our legends, spring could not begin without it, any more than the moon could set or the sun rise without the princesses to guide them.” He chuckled at some passing thought. “The world was different back then. How wonderful it is to be alive and see these times return.”
“I didn’t know your people followed the princesses,” Twilight said. The sounds around her were starting to get a bit distracting, and she forced herself to keep staring at his face.
“We follow the moon.” He motioned with his snout toward the altar. “She has always been dear to us, even when she was gone.”
Interesting. It had never occurred to her that other species might worship the princesses. “How did you get this invitation? A letter?”
He laughed at that, loud enough to shake her bones. “A letter? No, little pony. It came in a dream. She asked me to be here and witness this great and terrible event.”
Great and terrible event? Twilight looked around in confusion. Neither term seemed to apply at the moment. “Just, uh, witness? Not partake?”
“It is the same to us.” He gave a liquid shrug that sent the muscles beneath his pelt rippling. “So, do you?”
“Do I what?”
He moved, and before Twilight even realized what happened, his face was inches from hers. His eyes, a bright amber visible beneath the silly unicorn mask, seemed to gaze into her soul. The faint scent of cinnamon filled her nostrils.
“Do you wish to partake?” he asked. Teeth longer and sharper than anything that belonged near a pony flashed in the silver moonlight.
“Oh, uh...” Of course she didn’t. Quite aside from the fact that she was happily involved with another mare, there was the little matter of not having sex in public with a carnivore that weighed four times as much as her. Even if it was a carnivore with beautiful fur, a powerful voice, and smelling faintly of cinnamon.
She opened her mouth to turn him down. “Uh...”
“I think we’ll just watch for now,” Cheerilee said. She wrapped a foreleg around Twilight’s shoulder. “But thank you for the offer.”
The diamond dog didn’t seem distressed by the rejection. He gave them both a small nod, then turned and ambled off on all fours to another group already deeply involved in the celebration. They opened and accepted him without delay.
“You’d better get used to saying ‘no,’ honey,” Cheerilee whispered. “I think there will be more offers like that tonight.”
“D-did you hear that?” Twilight whispered back. “He wanted to... us! With us!”
“Yes, he did.” Cheerilee seemed to be taking this far too calmly.
“That’s... ridiculous! In public! Can you imagine?” Twilight thought back to his looming face and the scent of cinnamon—
His claws raked through her coat. Their tips weren’t as sharp as a cat’s, but sharp enough still to leave little dimples in her skin as they dragged down her shoulders to her sides. A predator’s teeth nipped at her neck even as his weight slowly forced her to the ground. She could feel him trembling with pent up power carefully held in reserve in deference to her smaller form. The fur pressing against her back was warm and soft as a cloud, softer than anything she could imagine—
“Twilight?” Cheerilee was giving her an amused look. “Are you alright?”
“Yes! Yes. It’s just, uh... ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.”
“Mhm.” Cheerilee stared at her for another moment, then turned back to the ceremony. After a moment of catching her breath, Twilight did the same.
Many in the crowd were apparently as reticent as she. They stood alone or in groups and merely witnessed, as the diamond dog had said. The realization helped calm Twilight’s anxiety by an order of magnitude – she and Cheerilee didn’t stand out too much, at least. The idea of being an outlier at an orgy would never have occurred to her just a few hours ago, but now seemed like a terrible faux pas.
Enough time had passed during her conversation with the diamond dog for many of the more adventurous groupings to proceed beyond kissing and touching. A warm blush spread over Twilight’s face and down her chest as she took in the sights. And sounds.
Up on the altar, Luna fell into that second grouping. Twilight’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of her one-time mentor’s... well, exertions was probably the word she would use. That was the word Rarity’s trashy romance novels had used, along with other silly phrases like heaving bosoms and throbbing stallionhoods. Words that she had never expected to encounter after returning Rarity’s books, complete with her notes scribbled in the margins (an addition Rarity had not been thrilled to discover).
Luna and her stallion were still kissing, in the most technical sense of the word. Again, Rarity’s novels would have described the scene differently; pleasuring each other, perhaps, or partaking of love’s delightful bounty. Ridiculous euphemisms for a perfectly natural act of love, Twilight reminded herself. What they were doing was utterly normal, and indeed even healthy.
“Twilight?”
And there was no point in staring at them. Neither Luna nor her stallion nor the minotaur who seemed to be gearing up to join them meant anything to Twilight. In fact, having already experienced one injury at Luna’s hooves, she could safely say that Luna and her sexual partners were of negative interest. She had no desire whatsoever to watch them.
“Twilight...”
The griffin was back from wherever she had vanished to – behind the altar, apparently – and was now acting as an intermediary between the minotaur and the princess. This minotaur wasn’t as large or overmuscled as the one who had visited Ponyville some years past to teach that self-confidence seminar, but he was still a respectable looking specimen and nearly as big as Luna herself. He and the griffin lay their mouths on her sides and began slowly nibbling toward—
“Twilight!” Cheerilee gave her a nudge on the shoulder, finally breaking her painfully intense staring contest with the now-foursome atop the altar.
“Sorry! Sorry.” Twilight let out a shaking breath. “What should we do?”
“We don’t have to stay, you know. She said we could leave at any time. I’m not sure... Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
The half-spoken implication stung. There was nothing about this silly ceremony she couldn’t handle. Her expression hardened into a little frown, and she stomped her hoof petulantly.
“I’m fine. We’ll just watch. Witness.”
“Very well.” Cheerilee added a quiet sigh, just on the edge of Twilight’s hearing.
They fell into silence after that, though the meadow around them filled with sound. Moans, giggles and laughter, punctuated with the occasional scandalized shriek. Fewer and fewer guests remained aloof, instead joining in the celebration. A number of couples, perhaps overstimulated by their surroundings, appeared to have completed their first act and were lounging on the soft grass, touching each other gently and watching the others around them.
“I’m sorry,” a deep voice asked beside them. Twilight turned to see the old stag standing just feet away, with his two doe escorts keeping a watchful guard on either side. Seen up close, he was even more magnificent than before. Nearly as tall as Luna, with a crown of antlers bearing at least a hundred points. He was practically wearing a forest upon his head. Dozens of tiny ornaments, feathers, fetishes and charms were tied onto them, and rattled quietly as he moved. “I didn’t mean to intrude. You wouldn’t be Twilight Sparkle, would you?”
“Er... yes?” Twilight gawked up at the stag. The sense of age and power surrounding him was strong enough to taste. The scent of junipers filled the air around them.
“I thought so.” He smiled at her. His eyes were large and deep and entirely black, with only a tiny hint of white around the irises. “Celestia has told me much about you.”
“You know the princess? She... she told you about me?” Twilight took a careful step back, bumping into Cheerilee in the process.
“We exchange letters sometimes. A practice she began a few centuries past, when she was a much more lonely sovereign.”
“Oh.” Twilight could imagine that. Even as a foal, she had noticed how few ponies seemed comfortable around her mentor. “She didn’t ask you to attend this, did she?”
“Not quite. I have a longstanding invitation, you could say. Why, did she suggest you come tonight?”
Twilight frowned down at her hooves. “I’m not sure. This whole thing is a little confusing.” She glanced around, realizing how out-of-place their group looked standing and conversing. “Er, would you like to join us? To, uh, talk?”
“Nothing would delight me more.” He sank onto his belly with his hooves tucked under his body. “If I may be honest, you two seem a tad out of sorts here.”
“We, ah, we’ve never been to anything like this before,” Twilight said. “It’s a little different than I expected.”
He nodded, the slight movement of his head translating into a huge swing at the tips of his antlers. “The first time always is. I remember my first Bacchanal. It was... enlightening, let us say.”
“You...” Twilight leaned back, running her eyes up and down his huge form. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’ve been here before?”
He nodded again. “It’s been over a thousand years, but not much has changed.” He frowned. “Though I seem to recall there was more poetry at the last one.”
“But how is that possible?”
“Let me answer your question with another. Do you believe in fate, Twilight Sparkle?”
“No, that’s...” She thought back to the day she’d earned her cutie mark. “That’s... well, maybe a little.”
He smiled. “And you? Cheerilee, isn’t it?”
They both looked at the schoolteacher. She glanced to the side, then turned her head to stare into Twilight’s eyes. After a moment, she smiled. “I think I do, actually.”
The stag nodded again, filling the air with the quiet rattle of the charms in his antlers. “Well, if I believed in fate, I might wonder if it had certain things in store for us. Certain requirements. And if some unexpected event were to delay those things by, oh, a thousand years or so...” He tilted his head toward the moon, which was falling slowly toward the horizon. “Well, one might have to live a little longer than expected.”
“Wait.” Twilight followed his gaze to the moon with a frown. “You’ve been waiting for her? You think there’s something she needs you for?”
“Oh, I know that, Twilight Sparkle. I’m just not sure it’s fate’s fault, or my own.”
“But... that’s silly!”
He smiled, and it was the same gentle smile Celestia always wore. That patient, thoughtful smile, from a being so ancient that he couldn’t help but be amused by the bumbling, fumbling, learning ponies around him. The sight of it sent a sudden chill down her spine.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “But it’s been a thousand years, and here I am. If I believed in fate, I might think it were responsible.”
“So your fate is to attend an orgy?” Cheerilee asked.
He laughed at that, actually threw back his head and laughed. The two does seemed shocked, the first change in expression Twilight had seen on their faces all night.
“Oh, you cut straight to the heart of the matter, Cheerilee.” He chuckled again. “It’s more complex than that, but if you heard Luna’s little rules, you know I can’t explain. You’ll just have to see for yourself.”
Twilight made a point of looking around. “It doesn’t seem very complex.”
“You should also know that looks are deceiving, Twilight Sparkle. Look around some more.”
Even at Celestia’s knee, Twilight had never enjoyed being treated like a foal. She frowned at the stag’s tone, but nevertheless looked around the glade again. The myriad creatures in the glade appeared to be enjoying themselves, to judge from her limited experience in such matters. There were certainly no earth-shattering revelations to be found.
Up on the altar, Luna continued her activities with her new friends. They had fallen into a fairly steady rhythm, or at least as steady as could be expected when four beings of such different sizes, shapes and even species were involved. Despite the erotism on display, Twilight found her mind drifting to mechanics. It doesn’t look like he has much leverage in that position. Aren’t his arms going to get tired? And there’s no way that will work; it’s far too big to fit—
“I should thank you,” the stag said, snapping her from her thoughts.
“Oh, uh, you’re welcome? Why?”
“You brought her back. You rescued her from the nightmare.” The stag watched Luna as he spoke, a tiny smile on his face. “If not for you, I might have had to wait another thousand years for this.”
“Oh, well.” She blushed. Cheerilee was smirking at her, which wasn’t helping matters. “We just wanted to help.”
“You did. You should be proud.”
She bobbed her head. Enough ponies had thanked her for saving the world in the past that it was a bit of an old hat, but it was still rare to receive a compliment from a being as ancient or unusual as the stag. She couldn’t think of anything to say in reply, and again they fell into a comfortable silence.
Eventually, the stag rose with a grace that belied his incredible age. He stretched, then turned to Twilight again. “Thank you for the company, Twilight Sparkle. It was an honor to finally meet you.”
Twilight scrambled to her hooves with considerably less grace. “Oh, you as well, sir. Uh...” Something that had nagged at the back of her mind suddenly clicked into place. “Why don’t you have a mask?”
“The mask keeps you from being hurt. I have no need of it.” He leaned down to brush her forehead with a light, chaste kiss. “Be well, Twilight Sparkle.”
She tried to stammer out a reply, and when that failed, made do with simply ducking her head in a clumsy bow. The stag seemed to find this amusing, and his eyes twinkled with hidden laughter as he stepped away.
“Wow,” Cheerilee said. “That was... odd?”
“I suppose that’s one word for it.” Twilight shook her head and then leaned against Cheerilee. The sights and sounds and even scents were starting to intrude on her better judgement. The warmth seeping into her from Cheerilee’s side felt like the sun on her coat. She let out another shaking breath.
Up on the altar, Luna’s activities seemed to be reaching their logical climax. Twilight smirked at the thought and would have resumed staring had not Cheerilee chosen that moment to stand and begin walking toward the stone pool. She scrambled to her hooves and followed.
“Where are you going?”
“Things seem a little calmer over here, dear.” Indeed they did; the pool was ringed by a small number of ponies and other creatures who, like her, seemed more interested in watching than participating. Cheerilee found a wide unoccupied spot on the pool’s flagstone rim and waited for Twilight to catch up.
“What about you?” Twilight asked. “Do you want to stay?”
Cheerilee shrugged. If it weren’t for the rapid heartbeat Twilight could feel through her chest, she would have said the earth pony was utterly unfazed by their surroundings. “Celestia wanted you here, didn’t she?”
Twilight glanced up at the altar. It was much closer now, just a few yards away. “I’m not sure Celestia really knows what goes on at these... things.”
A dim glow filled the water before them, interrupting any further conversation. It built and built, until the water broke around the surfacing form of the sea creature they had seen before. The tiny glowing spots on its frills and face were like stars against its dark skin, and it gazed at them with huge eyes clearly adapted for the dark depths.
“Good evening, friends,” it whispered with a soft, feminine voice. Seen from so close, it wasn’t much larger than an earth pony – the frills gave it an illusion of size. “Not interested in playing yet?”
“Not yet,” Cheerilee said. “My friend and I—”
“What are you?” Twilight blurted. A moment later she blushed beneath her mask as they turned to stare at her. “Uh, sorry, it’s just, I’ve never seen anything like you before.”
The creature smiled. “I’m a pony, of course.”
“Yes, but... Nevermind. Do you live here?” The pool didn’t seem that large or deep.
“What? No.” She tilted her head back and laughed, sending little droplets of water falling from her frilled mane into the pool. “No, friend. I live in the Starlight Trench, which is further away and deeper from here than I have the means to describe. Before tonight, I had never even touched the void.”
“Void? You mean, the atmosphere?”
“Is that what you call this?” The sea pony waved a flipper around.
“Most of us call it the air,” Cheerilee said. She gave Twilight an exasperated glance, softened with a tiny smile.
“Ah. It’s drier than I expected. Is it always this dry?”
“Well, sometimes it rains.” At the sea pony’s confused look, Cheerilee continued. “Rain? Water falls from the sky?”
The creature looked up at the moon. “There’s more water up there?”
“It’s complex,” Twilight said. Part of her wanted to launch into a long lecture on atmospheric hydrodynamic cycles, but Luna probably wouldn’t appreciate her orgy being used for that purpose. “Are you here for the, umm... you know.” She paused and lowered her voice. “The sex?”
“I had hoped to partake.” The sea pony’s eyes fell for a moment before darting back up to Twilight’s. “But most of the other guests find my presence a bit unpleasant.”
“What? But, you’re beautiful!” The words came out of Twilight’s mouth before she had a chance to consider them. Cheerilee raised an eyebrow.
“You’re very kind. But I’m afraid that’s not the problem.” The creature leaned forward, bracing her flippers on the stone rim for balance. Her face and frills brushed against Twilight’s, followed by a sudden, terrible chill, like the heart of winter had reached out to bathe her in its breath. A skein of frost grew on Twilight’s horn before she could jerk away.
“Oh!” Twilight shook her head, trying to dispel the sudden numbness. “Oh, wow, um...”
“Have you approached a pegasus yet?” Cheerilee asked. “The ones with wings? Cold doesn’t bother them.”
“Truly?” The sea pony looked hopeful beneath her clear mask. A mask that wasn’t just ice-like, Twilight realized – it actually was ice, frozen onto her face.
Cheerilee nodded. “They have to be. It gets very cold up near the stars.”
All three looked up again. The brilliant moon washed out most of the sky, but nearer to the horizon the stars began to peek through its glare.
“How high are they?” the sea pony asked.
Cheerilee spoke before Twilight could start lecturing. “Pretty high.”
“Hmm.” She looked thoughtful. “A pegasus, you say? Very well. Their fins do look so soft.”
“Those are feathers, be careful with them.”
She bobbed her head in a nod, sending more droplets falling from her frills. “Perhaps I will be able to enjoy the celebration after all.”
A low, long moan broke their conversation, and they turned to the altar, where Luna and her new friends were in the process of energetically finishing their first round. Twilight blushed furiously and tried to look away, but found her gaze always returning to the spectacle.
“Yes, that looks quite enjoyable,” the sea pony said. She turned back to them with a smile. “If the two of you should desire, please take a drink from this pool. Its water has very soothing effects.” With that she pushed away from the stone and glided across the pool to the far side, where a pair of unoccupied pegasi watched her approach with cautious interest.
“Huh.” Cheerilee stared after the odd creature for a moment, then looked down into the pool. It was black and depthless in the moonlight. “Thirsty?”
“Um...” Twilight pulled her eyes away from the altar. They seemed to be done up there, anyway. “Sure, I guess.” She dipped her snout to the still water and took a little sip.
It was like somepony had condensed the entire essence of winter into a drop of water. All its darkness, all its cold, all its snow and ice and wind, all compressed into a single sip that instantly numbed her tongue and lips. Before she could spit it out in surprise, the chill turned to a blazing warmth that ran down her throat like fire. She coughed in surprise and fell back onto her haunches.
“Strong.” She coughed again. “Careful.”
Cheerilee gave her an amused look, then leaned down to take a careful sip from the water. Her eyes widened, and after a moment she took a much deeper drink. A slight shiver worked its way down her shoulders, through her body, and ending in her tail.
“Whoa.” Cheerilee shook her head. “That’s different.”
Very different. Twilight pushed herself onto her hooves and stepped back to Cheerilee’s side. The little sip spread through her body, bringing a warm glow and a euphoric buzz she could feel building in her brain. She examined the sensations as objectively as she could, decided she liked them, and lowered her head for a longer drink.
It wasn’t alcohol – it didn’t have that harsh bite or turn her stomach like real liquor, but the result was all the same. A pleasant blanket settled over her thoughts, wearing away the sharp edges of her sarcasm and closely held derision. A smile spread across her face.
“Enjoying yourself?” Luna asked.
“Starting to. This water is actually—whaa!” She stumbled away from the princess and straight into Cheerilee, knocking them both onto the ground.
“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Luna gave her a smile that bordered on a smirk, then lowered her muzzle to the pool and took a deep drink. Her coat shone with a layer of sweat, and her mane and tail were both looking a little frazzled and matted, but she carried herself with an air of energy that Twilight had never before seen. She almost glowed.
“No, that’s, uh, fine.” Twilight glanced back up at the altar. It was empty for the moment. “Is the ceremony over?”
Luna finished her drink, then raised and shook her head. “No, not nearly. But it’s good to take breaks.”
“Right, a break.”
“Yes. And what about you two? Taking a break, or not yet started?”
Cheerilee came to her rescue. She set a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder and spoke. “We’re just watching, your Highness.”
“Ah.” Luna favored them both with a smug little smile. “Well, I’ll let you get back to that, then. Remember, there are hours to go before the night ends.” She stood, stretched her massive wings, and turned to depart.
Twilight’s eyes moved of their own volition, tracing their way down Luna’s shapely form. She scowled at her own lack of control. “Wait.”
Luna stopped instantly. She turned slowly, and gave Twilight a smile that was anything but smug. “Yes, Twilight?”
“Celestia... You said Celestia wanted me here?”
Luna’s head jerked back a few inches.The tips of her ears sank, and Twilight could see her eyes blinking rapidly beneath the silver mask. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, Celestia asked me to invite you.”
“Does she know what happens here?”
Luna glanced around. The celebration continued unabated around them, though a few of the nearer couples were watching their princess curiously. “Of course she does. She used to attend.”
What.
“I’m sorry, Luna,” Cheerilee said. “Celestia used to come to these?”
“Yes. The Bacchanal is my celebration, but it celebrates her, not me. Twilight, are you alright?”
“She’s fine,” Cheerilee said. “She gets like that sometimes. Anyway, this doesn’t really seem like Celestia’s thing.”
Princess Celestia, Twilight wanted to correct. Proper courtesies were important.
Luna took a seat before them, her wings held gracefully at her side. “Perhaps I should explain. Do you know what seasons belong to me, Cheerilee?”
Twilight finally found her voice, and spoke before Cheerilee could. “Fall and winter. Celestia came to these?”
“Yes and yes, Twilight. Now, what does that make her seasons?”
“Spring and summer. What does that have to do with tonight?”
“Ah, tonight.” Luna looked up at the moon. It was already beginning its slow descent toward the horizon. “Tonight is the equinox, Twilight. It is the day when our seasons are perfectly balanced against each other. Starting tomorrow, the day will begin to outweigh the night. Right here, right at this moment, we are perched on the edge of a knife.”
“So why do you celebrate it?”
“Because this is the last night I can, Twilight. Tomorrow we welcome the spring. I have only...” She paused for a moment. “Three hours and forty minutes until sunrise.”
“Why isn’t she here, then? Why did she want me to come?”
“She’s not here because she decided long ago that I was better suited for tonight’s activities.” Luna gave a little sniff. “As for why she wanted you here... well, I have my suspicions, but you’d have to ask her, I’m afraid.”
Twilight frowned. A sharp bit of her psyche that had survived the numbing effects of the pool managed to surface for a moment. “You’re better at mindless sex?” She ignored Cheerilee’s startled gasp.
Luna raised a foreleg to her chest, miming an injuring. “Ah, a hit. Still unhappy with me, dear? And it’s not mindless, I’ll thank you to know.”
“This isn’t about us!” Twilight hissed. “I mean, you. Whatever. And what does any of that balance stuff have to do with this?” She swept a hoof around at the tangled couples, more than a few of which were watching their little discussion with interest.
The triumphant smile returned to Luna’s face. “I think you should drink more from the pool, Twilight. It might give you the courage to overcome your fears.” Her point made, she turned and strode into the crowded celebration, pausing to brush the groups beside her with her wings as she walked around the glade.
For a moment, it was all Twilight could do not to scream. Her body shook so hard her teeth began to clatter before she clamped her jaw shut. She didn’t hear Cheerilee until the mare was literally speaking into her ear.
“Let’s go, Twilight. Forget her, forget Celestia. This isn’t healthy.”
Twilight didn’t answer. She took a slow, deep breath and let it out with a shudder. Then another. Around them, the various couples returned to their own activities.
“No. I’m not going to let her win. She thinks I’m afraid? That’s... stupid! Ha!”
Cheerilee gave her a dubious look.
“And she’s wrong!” Twilight plowed ahead. She stepped back to the pool and thrust her snout into the water, taking a long, freezing drink. Her entire face, mouth and throat went numb instantly, replaced by a burning sensation so intense she might have swallowed a cupful of embers. She ignored it, drinking until the need for air forced her to the surface.
And then she drank some more.
Eventually she became aware of a pair of hooves tugging at her shoulders. The pulling built in strength until she could ignore it no longer and stumbled away from the pool and fell on her side. Cheerilee stood beside her, speckled with water and looking at her with alarm in her eyes.
“Stars, Twilight, what are you doing? You’re going to make yourself sick, or worse! That stuff could be dangerous!”
It didn’t feel dangerous. It felt wonderful. The warmth settled in her gut and then pushed out into her limbs and face and ears. Even her mane and tail felt warmer, charged with energy and joy. She let out a quiet laugh as a pleasant euphoria settled onto her mind. All her concerns and anger were suddenly revealed for the petty things they were. All that mattered was this wonderful pleasure and sharing it with her friends.
And it was time to get started. She rose to her hooves a bit shakily and stepped toward Cheerilee. The mare gawked at her before Twilight’s lips found her mouth, and they spent an indeterminable, infinite time lost in the kiss. Her tongue pressed past Cheerilee’s lips, lightly brushing against her teeth before finding the startled, shy tongue past them. Her nose brushed against Cheerilee’s mask, filling her nose with the scent of cotton and sunflowers.
When the kiss finally broke, Cheerilee leaned back. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and opened it again before she finally found her voice.
“Are you okay?”
Twilight leaned forward and pressed her muzzle against Cheerilee’s ear. “Better,” she whispered, and then began to nibble carefully. She could feel Cheerilee’s breathing quicken.
Things might have progressed rapidly from there, but an odd, slow clapping sound suddenly broke through the pleasurable fog in her mind. She turned to the stone pool, where an exact copy of herself wearing a beetle mask watched them with an unrestrained smile.
“Very nice,” the changeling said. “Are you two done just watching?”
“Maybe,” Twilight said. The pesky inhibitions that had tethered her just minutes ago seemed so quaint now. “Interested?”
“Maybe,” the false Twilight replied in the same exact tones. There was a green flash, and suddenly she wore Cheerilee’s form, identical except for the beetle mask. “Interested?”
Twilight grinned. “I’ve already got one of those.” She wrapped a foreleg around Cheerilee’s shoulders and pulled her close against her side. The mare stiffened slightly at the sudden contact.
“Need a higher bid, hm?” The green fire returned, and when it cleared Rarity was perched on the pool’s stone rim. “Now? I know you’ve lusted after this form, darling. I can taste it in your thoughts.”
Twilight made a show of thinking about the offer. The coquettish expression on Rarity’s face was tempting, certainly, but not enough to get over the whole sex-in-public thing. She shook her head.
“Very well.” The changeling looked thoughtful for a moment before suddenly grinning. Another wave of fire rolled over her form, leaving a much larger white unicorn behind.
Twilight blinked and then gasped. “Shiney?”
“Hey, Twiley.” Shining Armor grinned back. The beetle mask obscured most of his features, but she could recognize her brother in the dark from a hundred paces. “Tempted yet?”
“Seriously? Ew. No.” She made a face. “Come on, is that the best you can do?”
“Twilight...” Cheerilee breathed in her ear. It sounded like a warning.
The changeling Shining Armor sat up. “Not good enough for you yet, am I? You think I can’t read the lust in your heart? You think I don’t know what you want?” A larger wash of flame burst around him, growing higher and brighter before suddenly vanishing, leaving a dark, towering shape behind.
“I know your desires, Twilight Sparkle,” Princess Luna said in a breathless voice. It somehow carried easily in the darkness, despite being no louder than a whisper. Every piece of the illusion was perfect, from the elegant horn to the nebulous mane. Only the beetle mask still on her face gave any hint of the changeling’s true nature. “I know you still dream about her. I can see it in your soul, the way you still think about her, even when you’re lying in your lover’s arms. And now you can have her. Have me.”
I could have her. It would be as easy as breathing. Her heart beat faster in her chest as she imagined the princess’s body laid out before her, panting with lust and pleasure as Twilight ran her tongue over every inch of that midnight blue form. She could already taste the primrose of her coat.
But that bridge had burned long ago. She folded the image in her mind and tucked it away in a dark corner of her mind where other forgotten things rested, and shook her head. “Sorry.”
Luna tilted her head and regarded her silently for a moment. The green light flashed in her eyes once more, followed by the rest of her, and when it cleared a shape as large as Luna, but different in every other way, remained.
The crowd around them came to a sudden and shocked silence. Ponies broke from their exertions to point and stare.
Princess Celestia smiled at her student. The beetle mask stood out like a dark bruise on her face.
“No,” Cheerilee whispered. “How dare you...”
“How dare I?” Celestia asked. Her voice was as thoughtful and knowing as the real princess would have used. “Is not imitation the sincerest form of flattery? Am I not merely reflecting the love in your...” She trailed off as her gaze returned to Twilight.
It was like she had suddenly been plunged in a bath of ice water. The shock, the shame of her most secret desire being so easily plucked from the dark corners of her mind and thrust in front of her face was as horrible as if the real Celestia had suddenly arrived and condemned her for being a horrible, perverted mare.
The changeling grimaced and burst into green flames again. When the light faded it was back to its original, chitinous form with a stricken look on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I read that wrong. It was not my intent to hurt you.”
Twilight cleared her throat. It was a moment before she could speak again. “No, it’s fine. We both got a little... carried away.”
“Nevertheless, we are here to celebrate and draw pleasure from each other, not cause pain. Again, I apologize.” The changeling dipped her head in a semi-bow and then jumped into the air, its insect wings buzzing, searching for more favorable lovers.
The silence stretched out. Around them, the other couples slowly resumed their carnal activities, only occasionally stopping to stare at Twilight. In the darkness, behind their masks, Twilight couldn’t interpret their expressions.
“Are you okay, love?” Cheerilee breathed in her ear.
Twilight nodded her head jerkily. “Y-yeah. It just startled me a bit.”
“It’s perfectly understandable, you know. She’s such a beautiful and kind and wonderful pony, and she was your mentor for so many years... I’m a schoolteacher, Twilight. This kind of thing happens all the time. It seems like every week there’s some filly or colt with a crush on me.”
“It’s not like...” She let out a breath and tried again. “Can we just not talk about it?”
“Of course.” Cheerilee gave her a little nuzzle just behind her ear. “Still want to stay?”
“You keep asking that.” The drink’s magical warmth was beginning to return from wherever it had fled during the brief shock of Celestia’s presence, and she felt her confidence returning. The sting of shame began to fade. “Why?”
“You’re still very young, Twilight. Inexperienced. Don’t give me that look, you know it’s true. This...” She paused to look at the celebration around them. “This is not for the inexperienced.”
Twilight snorted. “But it’s fine for you, right? You’re big enough to handle it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s what you meant.” She stepped back to the stone pool and considered taking another drink. A few yards away, the sea pony was splashing playfully with a pair of pegasi who apparently didn’t mind the water’s numbing cold.
“So what do you want to do, then?” Cheerilee came up beside her, and after a moment’s consideration dipped her head for a tiny sip. The shivers it provoked in her curved form were delicious to watch.
“We stay.”
“Alright, we stay. And?”
“And, um...” Twilight took a nervous gulp. The euphoria and confidence imparted by the water was nearly miraculous in its power, but doing anything other than watching at an orgy was still a tall barrier to climb. “We, uh...”
“Yes, dear? We do what?” Cheerilee was smiling now.
Twilight glanced around to see if anypony was watching. They all seemed otherwise occupied. “We... you know. Find s-somepony and...” She tapped her front hooves together.
Cheerilee gave her a faux-confused look. “I’m sorry, what does—” She tapped her hooves together, just as Twilight had. “Mean?”
She was going to make Twilight say it. She blushed furiously. “It means m-make lo—”
“You know, it occurs to me that there’s a mare here who would just love to...” She tapped her hooves together again. “With you.”
“Huh? Who?”
Cheerilee gave her a flat look.
It still took a second. “Oh. Oh! Ahaha... yes, I knew that. Are... are we allowed to do that?”
Cheerilee leaned forward to rub her cheek against Twilight’s. “I don’t think it’s against the rules, hun.” She placed her hooves on Twilight’s chest and carefully, gently pushed her back onto her haunches, then onto her side. “Are you sure about this?”
Twilight spared the groups around them a glance. All were deeply involved in each other, and the naked sight of so much wanton sex and beautiful bodies lit a fire deep in her belly. She looked back up at Cheerilee and gave a tiny nod.
“Good.” Cheerilee stepped over her, her chest and belly brushing against Twilight’s body. She lowered her head and touched Twilight’s lips with her own in a gentle kiss. She held it for a moment, not moving, not breathing, simply letting the warm and wet contact between them sink into Twilight’s heart. She felt Cheerilee smile, and then her tongue pressed against Twilight’s lips, tracing the seam between them. She opened her mouth to let it in.
They lay like that for a while, their tongues toying with each other. The heat between their bodies slowly grew, matched by a heat Twilight felt growing in her nethers. Her tail twitched frantically over the grass.
Eventually, Cheerilee settled down by her side, and her head dipped lower to nibble at Twilight’s neck and chest. Cheerilee’s gentle teeth teased at her collarbones, pinching the skin hard enough for just the tiniest hint of pain to emerge before letting go, so she could follow up with a soothing kiss. Her hooves ran up and down Twilight’s sides and occasionally over her sensitive belly.
Twilight couldn’t help the huge grin on her face as Cheerilee slowly worked her way southward. She craned her head around as Cheerilee’s hooves found her rear legs and carefully pushed them apart. She saw Luna back on the altar, sharing it with the odd feathered dragon creature they had seen earlier. Her suspicions were correct – it was emphatically male, and was using the relevant portion of its anatomy to service the Princess of the Night. Luna’s head was arched back, exposing her long, graceful neck to a batpony mare’s mouth. All three seemed to be enjoying themselves.
She closed her eyes and crooned as Cheerilee’s tongue finally touched her. The sensation of a wet tongue on wetter flesh drove thought from her mind, and for many long minutes she simply moaned and writhed on the grass.
She couldn’t last long, though. She never could when Cheerilee was determined to bring her to a climax. The pleasure built within her like a fire, hotter and hotter and somehow wetter with every moment, until with a shout that was momentarily the loudest sound in the glade, she came.
More time passed as she lay there, panting. The moon overhead continued its slow course through the night, and the stars in the west began to grow dim and indistinct with the slow advent of dawn. She watched the stars move in a daze, until the warm form of Cheerilee pressed against her side again. She turned, and was lost again in a long kiss that became her whole world.
“Feel better, love?” she whispered.
“Mmm.” Twilight stretched, enjoying the fading tingle between her legs. “You always make me feel better, Cheers.”
“Flatterer.” Cheerilee kissed her nose. Her eyes darted past Twilight for a moment, and then she stretched and stood. “I’m feeling a bit thirsty, I think. One moment.” She gave Twilight another kiss and stepped toward the stone pool.
Odd. Twilight frowned and rolled over. Sure enough, Luna reclined beside her with a small smile on her face.
“Getting in the spirit of things, I see.”
Twilight rolled onto her hooves, stretched again, and took a relaxed seat. Luna didn’t seem like she was here for an argument. “A little.” She glanced at the altar behind them, now empty. “That still seems a bit... exhibitionistic, though.”
Luna shrugged. “Twilight, when you’re thousands of years old, there’s not much reason to be anything else.”
Twilight had no answer for that. Instead she looked around the glade, where many couples and groups seemed to have descended into an intermission of sorts. The quiet murmur of conversation filled the air, punctuated occasionally by more primal moans or cries.
Luna followed her gaze. When she finally spoke, it was so soft Twilight could barely hear. “I wanted to apologize.”
Twilight waved a hoof. “There’s no need, Luna. We all say things when we’re angry.”
“Not for that. For this.”
“For... what now?”
“For all of this.” Luna stretched a wing to indicate their surroundings. “I didn’t have to invite you. I could have told Celestia where to shove her offer. It is an unnecessary cruelty, and I am complicit for involving you.”
Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle. “Luna, I’m not a foal. I can make my own decisions, and this celebration isn’t so bad. I was wrong about that.”
Luna sighed. “Perhaps she was right. She is older and wiser than I.” She looked up at the sky again. “One hour and twenty minutes until sunrise, Twilight. We are almost done.”
“Is there another in six months? The autumnal equinox?”
“No.” With that curt answer, Luna stood and departed, leaving Twilight more than a little surprised in her wake. She barely heard the footfalls of Cheerilee’s return.
“Have a nice chat?”
“Uh, I guess? She seemed a little weird, actually.”
Cheerilee draped a foreleg over Twilight’s shoulder. “This whole evening has been a little weird. Is this what it’s always like for you, running errands for the princess? Saving the world?”
Twilight looked around the glade. Dozens of piles of writhing limbs and bodies twisted in the moonlight. “Not quite.”
A flutter of motion caught their eye, and they turned to see Luna fall from the sky back onto the stone altar at the center of the clearing. She shook her wings out and settled into a comfortable position on the stone, apparently waiting for another set of lovers to approach her. A tiny bit of Twilight’s heart suggested that she belonged up there; she squashed it ruthlessly.
“You know, ever since we arrived here tonight, I’ve had the strangest feeling that I’ve seen this before,” Cheerilee said. She tilted her head at the altar. “And I just realized where. It was in a dream a few nights back, that same morning you found the invitation on your pillow.”
Only a few hours ago, the mere idea that a crazy moon princess had been messing around in her lover’s dreams would have been enough to send her into a fury. Now all it provoked was a quiet chuckle. “That’s not surprising. Some of the others here said they got her invitation in a dream.”
“It’s just a little unsettling. What’s the word for it? De... déjà vu.”
Up near the altar, the changeling was making its slow, cautious way toward the princess. It carefully measured each step, as if afraid Luna might suddenly reach out and smite her for her audacity. For her part, Luna merely looked down with a smile.
“How did the dream end?” Twilight asked.
“It was like this, I think. All of us were gathered around the altar, watching Luna right as the sun rose. And I remember feeling a little sad for her.”
Huh. Twilight chewed on that for a few minutes before shrugging. As Luna had said, the sun would rise in just over an hour, and they could see how the ceremony ended for themselves.
“I think I’m going to have a long chat with Celestia tomorrow.”
“Mhm.” Cheerilee ran her hoof over Twilight’s chest. “Just going to barge into her court and start talking about the depraved sex orgy her sister held the previous night?”
“Well...” Twilight cleared her throat. “Maybe I’ll just send her a letter.”
Cheerilee chuckled. “Right. So, what do you want to do now?”
Twilight turned to tuck her nose into the crook of Cheerilee’s neck, earning a quiet coo from her lover. “Well, we could finish what we started.”
“We could...”
Something about Cheerilee’s tone brought Twilight up short. She pulled back far enough to look her in the eye. “Hm?”
“We could... you know...” Cheerilee’s eyes danced around the glade.
Er... Twilight’s ears folded back. “Wait, you mean, with somepony else?”
Cheerilee bit her lip. Her eyes darted around again before settling back on Twilight, and she gave a little nod.
Twilight licked her suddenly dry lips. A tight nervousness clenched at her stomach. “Isn’t that, uh, like cheating?”
“I don’t think those rules apply tonight, love.”
“Yeah, but... are you sure about this?”
“No.”
Well, points for honesty, at least. Twilight searched her lover’s face for any sign she might be misreading Cheerilee’s intentions, but the scarlet mask hid too much. “You won’t mind?”
“Not if you don’t.”
“How much of that water did you drink?”
Cheerilee poked her in the chest. “Not as much as you.”
“Fair enough.” Twilight looked around again, this time with a measuring eye. “So, uh, how do we do this?”
Cheerilee ducked her head. She might have been blushing as well, but it was difficult to see much of her face beneath the mask. “I think we just find find somepony who looks appealing and—hey! Where are you going?”
Twilight was already moving. Her target was unoccupied at the moment, and she couldn’t risk some other pony snagging his attentions. She came to a stop a few steps away and waited for Cheerilee to catch up before speaking.
“Excuse me, sir, would you, ah...” She paused to clear her throat. “Would you like, some, uh... c-company?”
The stag looked up at her with a smile. He was resting on the ground with all four legs tucked beneath him, and even in that position was nearly as tall as her. The pair of does that always seemed to follow him sat just a few feet away, staring at her with a measuring gaze and expression that strongly conveyed the sense that she was somehow unworthy.
“Hello again, Twilight Sparkle,” the stag said. “I would love to share your company. Please, have a seat. You as well, Cheerilee.”
Twilight nodded and took a seat near his side, with just enough space between them to imagine there was still some sense of propriety. Cheerilee gave a little start at the mention of her name, but she nevertheless took a seat beside Twilight.
“So, uh...” Twilight cleared her throat again. “Have you been enjoying your evening?”
“I have. It is always enjoyable to meet so many new friends.”
“Er, yes. But I mean, have you, uh... you know?” She tapped her front hooves together.
He raised an eyebrow.
Cheerilee let out an exasperated sigh. “She means, have you been participating?”
“Ah.” He smiled at Twilight, and somehow the expression filled her with happiness rather than embarrassment. “Not yet, though I expect I will sometime before morning.”
“Oh.” That sounded vaguely encouraging to Twilight. She turned away and attempted to act as nonchalant as possible, considering their surroundings. “So, who’s the lucky mare?”
“Lucky mare?” He chuckled. The sound was deep and pleasant and filled her chest with butterflies. “Such a flatterer, Twilight Sparkle. If I didn’t know better, I might suspect you were flirting.”
Just like that, the balloon of Twilight’s self-confidence popped. She started to stammer out some incoherent response and likely would have crashed and burned had not Cheerilee intervened.
“Flirting, at an orgy?” she asked. “Seems like a waste of valuable time.”
“Sometimes the prelude is more enjoyable than the consummation,” he countered. “It’s filled with anticipation and possibility. But I’m getting ahead of myself – what could two intelligent young fillies like yourselves possibly see in an ancient, withered husk like me?”
Even Twilight could tell he was joking, now. Despite the air of age and majesty that clothed him, he seemed as fit and vigorous as an earth pony. Even without the huge antlers, she might have found her eye drawn to his figure. And then there was that smile, so gentle and knowing.
“Well, uh...” Twilight swallowed. “You’re seem very mature and thoughtful, and you remind me a little of somepony.”
“Somepony good, I hope.”
“Somepony very good.” An image of the changeling flashed in her mind for an instant. She banished it with a shake of her head, and used the momentary distraction as an excuse to survey the glade again. Up on the altar, Luna appeared to have already finished her latest round of activity. A pair of unicorn stallions lounged at the base of the altar, apparently exhausted by the act of pleasing her. Most oddly of all, however, was the changeling; it was still in its true form, and held Luna’s head in its hooves. Almost as if she were comforting the princess.
Huh. Weird. Sex with a changeling couldn’t be that bad.
“This ceremony always was hard on her,” the stag said. He was leaning a bit closer now, enough that Twilight could feel the heat of his body just inches from her own.
“Really? It doesn’t seem that hard.” Twilight paused and reconsidered her language. “Difficult, I mean. It doesn’t seem difficult.”
“Oh, it is. For years she tried to turn it over to Celestia, but this ceremony is for dark times, not the daylight.”
Twilight snorted. “Celestia? She would never do this. That’s preposterous.” Celestia was a beautiful and kind and pure and loving princess, who would never stoop to something as base and degrading as this ceremony. She would never cavort with so many lovers in the open, mating with them wantonly, like some shameless back-alley tail lifter. She would never lie on an altar like Luna, surrounded by hundreds of strangers, using her tongue to bring some masked stallion to a messy climax all over her perfect white coat.
The very idea was silly. It was unthinkable. And if she did happen to imagine it, completely by accident on account of how silly it was, well, there was no harm in that. She shook her head again.
“Preposterous, of course,” the stag said. That little smile was back on his face. “This is not Celestia’s domain.”
“Luna said Celestia attended, once,” Cheerilee said. Obviously, she didn’t yet realize that Luna was not to be trusted.
“I’m afraid if she did, it was before my time.” The stag gave a little shrug. “But we’re straying from our chosen path, I believe. You said I was thoughtful and mature, and now it’s my turn to compliment you. You are beautiful and honest and brave, Twilight Sparkle. And you, Cheerilee, you are kind and patient and filled with more life than any two ponies I have ever known.”
Both mares blushed at the simple but heartfelt words. Any lingering doubts in Twilight’s mind about her next step were instantly erased. She closed her eyes and leaned forward to gently pressed her lips against the stag’s. The sharp scent of junipers tickled her nose.
The stag responded slowly but confidently, befitting a creature of his immense age. He returned the kiss with a gentle press of his lips, which slowly parted as the kiss stretched on and on. The tip of his tongue brushed against hers for the briefest of seconds before they broke apart to catch their breaths.
This is actually going to happen okay you can do this just relax relax relax stay calm— Twilight gave a little start as Cheerilee’s hoof brushed the top of her back on its way to wrap around her shoulders. Her breath sped faster as teeth gently nibbled at the rim of her right ear. She could feel Cheerilee’s heartbeat against her side.
The stag shifted his weight and brought a slender hoof up to her chin, tilting her head up to his before leaning down for another kiss. It was more assertive this time, his tongue sliding playfully across hers. The teeth nibbling on her ear grew more forceful, and she could hear Cheerilee’s hot breath shake as the arousal began building between the three of them. Her legs curled beneath her, and she felt the warmth and wetness return to her thighs.
They traded kisses for some time; her and the stag, her and Cheerilee, the stag and Cheerilee. When Twilight wasn’t actively involved, she used her lips to explore her new lover. His coat was coarser than a ponies, with long guard hairs that concealed a layer of soft fur beneath. It tickled her nose as she dug into it, and it more than made up for the lack of a mane to play with. His legs were longer and far more slender than a pony of his size’s would be, and the cloven hooves at their ends were fascinating enough for her to spend several minutes with them.
At some point the happy sounds Cheerilee and the stag were generating faded. Twilight looked up to see them both staring at her with amused smiles on their faces. She blushed and let go of the stag’s hoof.
“Er, sorry. I’ve never, ah, seen hooves like these before.”
He moved to kiss her again, erasing her embarrassment. “Never apologize for being curious, Twilight. It is one of the greatest virtues in the world, I’ve found.”
Kind, knowing, and appreciated curiosity? If she weren’t already so aroused from everything they had seen in the glade, the stag’s words would have done the trick. Her tail began lashing at the air, entirely out of control.
A wicked grin spread across Cheerilee’s face, and she tilted her head up to whisper into the stag’s ear. He gave a little nod, shaking the charms in his antlers again, and moved around to Twilight’s side. Twilight was about to turn to follow him when Cheerilee grasped her face in her hooves and trapped it for a long, rough kiss. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sunflower scent of her lover.
The stag’s forelegs brushed against her shoulders as he mounted her. The soft fur on his belly rubbed pleasantly against her back, and she flicked her tail up teasingly at his groin. He nuzzled behind her ear with his oddly pointed snout, and she felt his back legs positioning themselves behind her.
He was gentle as he entered her, and it helped that he was probably a tad smaller than most stallions in that regard. There was more than enough of him to fill her, and she let out a quiet hiss at the sensation of being penetrated. Cheerilee’s hooves tightened around her neck.
He paused there, fully buried inside her. For a long moment, all three were still, waiting for Twilight’s body to relax against the sudden assault. Her muscles gripped his shaft, tense despite the wash of pleasure that rolled over her like a wave.
“Are you alright, love?” Cheerilee whispered in her ear.
Twilight jerked her head. “Y-yeah. I’m fine. Fine.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then kissed Cheerilee again.
Eventually, the last of the tension faded away. She pushed back with her hips, pressing the stag even deeper inside her. He took that as a sign and began slowly working his hips, thrusting into her with easy, measured strokes that stretched her just to the point of discomfort, but never quite there. Soon, even that faded, and all that remained was the delicious friction of his shaft against her inner walls.
Twilight loved Cheerilee. She really did. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was better than the sex Cheerilee enjoyed with her every night they shared a bed (and sometimes twice). Cheerilee could do things with her lips, hooves and tongue that still made Twilight blush, even as they brought her to an orgasm.
But for all that, Cheerilee was not a stallion. There were some things Cheerilee couldn’t do. And right now, the stag was doing all of them.
A tiny whinny escaped her throat as the stag increased his pace. Her whole frame shook as his hips pushed into hers. The rhythmic, conflicting sensations of fullness followed by absence followed again by fullness kindled a fire deep in her belly. The heat and pleasure built and built, stoked by each thrust and push. She tried to cry out, but the sound was muffled by Cheerilee’s mouth crushing against hers for an almost violent kiss.
That, more than anything else, was what pushed her over. The scent of her love, the press of Cheerilee’s lips against hers, the wet touch of tongue against tongue, those were the spark that set her body ablaze, and a tremendous burst of pleasure exploded from her groin to fill every bit of her body, from her horn to her dripping crotch to her hooves. The pleasure rolled on and on, and she lost herself in it.
Some time later, she became aware again. Warm, soft bodies pressed against her sides, and she tilted her head to see the stag and Cheerilee trading kisses over her head. They broke apart when they felt her begin to stir.
“That looked fun,” Cheerilee said. “Should I be worried?”
Twilight tried to laugh; what came out was more of a snort, all her exhausted body could summon. “Fun, yes. But you’ll always be first in my heart, love.”
“That’s a relief.” Cheerilee gave her a peck on the snout. “Just in time, too. It looks like the ceremony is winding down.”
“Oh?” Twilight twisted in place, trying to see the rest of the glade from her sandwiched position. The horizon to the east was a bright pink that faded slowly to grey toward the vault of the sky, and the moon brushed against the tips of the trees to the west. Few couples seemed to be doing anything other than lounging with each other. At the center of the clearing, the altar stood empty.
“It is, I’m afraid,” the stag said. He looked thoughtful for a moment – if he were a pony, Twilight might have said he looked sad. He shook his head minutely and looked down at her before speaking again. “Thank you, Twilight. You’ve given me a greater gift than you know.”
“Oh.” She blushed furiously. “Well, it was, I mean, uh... You too?”
Cheerilee snickered. The stag was more circumspect, and simply smiled.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, though. As much as I would love to stay with you, the ceremony isn’t quite over yet.” He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle. It was an honor to meet you.”
She ducked her head. “Of course. You as well.”
He gave her and Cheerilee a tiny nod, then stood with that same ageless grace and walked back into the crowd.
“Well.” She let out a long breath. “That was something.”
“Something?” Cheerilee nudged her with a hoof.
She might have said more, but a quiet muffled thump sounded behind them. They turned to see Luna, her wings still spread from flight. She was looking a little frazzled; her mane still flowed like a cloud, but with less energy than before. Her posture was hunched, almost as if she found the weight of the coming dawn oppressive.
“So, you met him,” the princess said.
“Yes...” Twilight tried to gauge the odd tone in Luna’s voice. It was almost accusatory. “He seemed very nice. I had no idea anypony else his age existed.”
Luna waved a hoof. “Oh, there’s a few. Most of them are dragons, I suppose.” She paused, and an uncomfortable silence stretched out between them before she spoke again. “I need to apologize.”
“We’ve been over this. You don’t.”
“No, I do.” Luna’s voice broke, to Twilight’s utter shock. The blank silver mask hid her expression, but she sounded distraught. “Whatever he said, you need to know that this isn’t your fault.”
“My fault?” Now she was simply confused. “Luna, he didn’t say anything was my fault. He thanked me. What’s wrong?”
Luna shook her head. “I’m sorry, there’s no time to explain. I should have been honest earlier, but now the sun is almost here. It is almost spring.” She turned her head to the east, where the sky was beginning to catch fire.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. Her wings snapped out and down with tremendous force, and she shot into the air like a rocket. Her dark form circled the clearing before settling back onto the altar.
“That was... odd.” Twilight’s lips bent into a little frown. “Did that make any sense to you?”
“None at all,” Cheerilee said. “This actually turned out to be fairly, well, interesting.”
The other attendees were beginning to rouse themselves from where they lay, turning toward the altar. Luna was there now, as was the stag. He nuzzled her beneath her chin, then lay back upon the flat stone. Even from a distance Twilight could see he was already aroused. She blushed at the sight but decided to trot closer for a better look.
Cheerilee followed not far behind, and they stopped a few yards away from the altar. The crowd had left an open space around the stone, apparently to give the two ancient beings their space.
“I’ve seen this before,” Cheerilee said. She sounded almost dazed. “This is the end of the dream, Twilight.”
Twilight turned her head. The horizon was a brilliant yellow behind them – the sun was only a few minutes away. When she turned back, Luna had mounted the stag, and slowly rocked her hips forward and back. Her front hooves pressed against the stone on either side of his shoulders for support.
The sight melted the last bit of anger in Twilight’s heart, a piece buried so deep she hadn’t even realized it existed. That Luna would invite her to this, regardless of Celestia’s meddling, to see her in such a vulnerable and personal light, was simply amazing. She blinked away the tears that threatened to form in her eyes.
The two lovers, perhaps aware of the fast-approaching dawn, did not waste their time. Luna’s pace sped faster and faster, until finally she threw back her head and cried out. The stag’s body tensed and shook, and just like that it was over. Twilight let out a shaking breath.
Luna and the stag remained on the altar, panting. After a long moment, Luna’s horn glowed, and the silver mask around her face fell away. It dropped to the altar with a clang like a bell and rattled on the rocky ground around them.
Twilight sucked in a sharp breath at the sight. Luna’s cheeks were matted with moisture. Her eyes were red and puffy and flowed freely with tears.
“What the...” The first stab of fear found its way into Twilight’s belly. She looked around at the crowd, but all the other faces were upturned toward the altar. Waiting.
Why are you sorry, Luna? She tried to push her way forward, but the mass of ponies and other beings refused to budge.
Up on the altar, the stag raised a cloven hoof to Luna’s cheek. He brushed away a tear, then lowered his hoof and gave her a small, knowing smile, exactly the kind Celestia always wore. Luna stared down at him for a long moment, nodded, and pushed herself fully upright. Her horn glowed, barely visible against the dawn sky.
A long stone knife rose in the air beside her, wrapped in her silver light.
“No!” Twilight shouted. She punched at the bodies around her and managed to make it to the front of the crowd before strong arms seized her. She struggled fruitlessly in their grasp as they dragged her back. “No! Luna, NO!”
The stag closed his eyes. The knife trembled in the air. Tears fell in streams from Luna’s face. She took a choking breath, and the blade rose above the stag’s outstretched neck.
“NO!” Twilight screamed now. A terrible pain erupted in her throat as her vocal cords tore. “Stars, Luna, don’t do this! Don’t! PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU DON’T!”
Luna’s gaze flicked toward Twilight. For a moment their eyes connected.
The knife flashed in an arc that passed cleanly through the stag’s throat. His body jerked at the sudden assault, but he made no move to push Luna away. The knife slashed again, opening his neck all the way to the spine. A fountain of blood erupted from the wound, painting Luna’s face and belly and chest.
But she was not done. The knife stabbed down into the stag’s chest, again and again until he ceased moving. The jets of blood died away to a trickle that ran down the stone altar, onto the ground. Twilight watched in a horrified daze as the dry earth soaked up the liquid.
Behind her, the sun finally rose, bathing the glade in its light. Luna lifted her head toward it and spread her gore-soaked wings. Blood fell from them like rain.
For the first time in a thousand years, Equestria celebrated the rite of spring.
* * *
Twilight Sparkle waited three days before travelling to Canterlot.
Despite her fame, honorary status as a savior of Equestria, and personal gravitas as a student of Celestia’s, the bureaucrats who oversaw the Court of the Sun were reluctant at first to let her walk straight in and confront the Princess. They suggested writing a letter. She disagreed.
Things might have gotten out-of-hoof at that point, had the Princess herself not intervened. The massive double doors enclosing her court swung open to reveal the hallway beyond, filled with stained glass and light, but empty of any living soul except Celestia herself, who sat on the throne at its far end.
Twilight walked through without sparing a second glance at the bureaucrats. The doors swung shut behind her with a muffled boom.
“Welcome home, my faithful student,” Celestia said once Twilight had drawn closer. “We have been expecting you.”
Twilight took a seat at the base of the steps leading up to Celestia’s throne. Protocol dictated that one stand in the presence of the sovereign until given permission to do otherwise, but protocol had rarely stood between them. She sat, and she waited.
She had to think.
Time passed. The sunlight streaming through the windows slowly shifted, stretching longer and farther as the sun continued its daily route across the sky. The stained glass cast colored shadows of Twilight and her friends on the floor; it seemed to send them marching across the room and then up the walls, moving yet frozen.
“I’ve been thinking,” she finally said. Her voice was a hoarse whisper – anything louder risked re-injuring her vocal chords.
Celestia raised an eyebrow. Beside her, a tea set poured itself a steaming cup, stirred in some honey, and floated over to Twilight’s side.
“Do you know what the hardest part was?” Twilight continued. She accepted the tea and took a sip. The warm liquid soothed her throat. “The worst part was after. It was having to walk nearly ten miles to get home, unable to speak about what we had seen. All we could do was cry. Do you know what that walk was like, Celestia? Can you imagine how horrible that was for us?”
Celestia nodded slowly. “I can. I know this doesn’t mean much right now, Twilight, but I am deeply sorry for what you went through.”
“For us? What about for...” Her throat closed as she tried to mention the stag. True to Luna’s word, neither she nor Cheerilee were able to say or write anything relating to the Bacchanalia. The geas was absolute and unbreakable.
She took a shuddering breath and tried again. “You knew what would happen. Why?”
“Why did I send you, or why did...” Celestia came to an abrupt stop as well, her face twisting with annoyance. Apparently the geas bound her too. “Or why... it?”
“Both.”
“I will answer as best I can. You deserve that. But first, you need to understand that nothing you saw was anypony’s fault. Not Luna’s, and especially not yours.”
“Not Luna’s?!” Twilight’s voice rattled painfully. “She... she... Stars, she...” Each attempt to describe Luna’s crime ended the same way. Twilight clenched her eyes shut and shook with days of pent-up frustration and rage. The teacup floating beside her began to vibrate in her grip, and a tiny crack appeared in its side. A stream of clear brown drops began to leak onto the floor.
“I know what she did, Twilight. I saw it once. I also know that she hasn’t left her quarters in three days. I’ve had to raise the moon the past three nights.”
“So why did she...” Her throat closed again.
“Because she had no choice.” Celestia let out a long breath. “Tell me, Twilight, how long is the day?”
“Twenty-three hours and fifty-six minutes. What does this have to do with—”
“Not a full day. How long is the daytime?”
Twilight blinked. “It varies based on the season. Today it will last just over twelve hours.”
“And what happens after the daytime?”
“Nighttime.”
“And what happens after every summer?”
“Autumn, and winter, and spring, and summer again. Is there a point to all this?”
“Bear with me. What happens after a golden age?”
“A...” Twilight paused to think. “There have only been two. Both were followed by what were colloquially known as ‘Dark’ ages.”
Celestia nodded. “And which are we in now, Twilight? A golden age, or a dark age?”
“Now? Neither. Ages are defined centuries after they pass. Besides, they last so long that it’s pointless to worry about what we’re in...”
At any given time, she was going to say. Pointless because ponies’ lives were so short compared to the tide of history, it didn’t matter whether one lived in what would later come to be known as a golden or a dark age. One simply lived in the time allotted to them.
Unless, of course, one lived forever.
Twilight blinked out of her thoughts and looked back up at the throne. “Which age are we in now, Celestia?”
“Now? We are on the cusp, Twilight. Our long golden age lasted a thousand years, filled with peace and bounty and prosperity. It began the day I banished Nightmare Moon, and it ended the morning she returned. The easy world we all knew is fading away. The Bacchanal—” She flinched as she said the word, and Twilight could feel a surge of magic in the room as the geas fought with her. “It is a relic of the last age, when blood was required to turn the clock on the seasons.
Twilight was silent for a while. “So it is Luna’s fault, then? She brought this back?”
Celestia shook her head. “Luna is as much a victim of this as anypony. Her banishment and return may have catalyzed the turning of the ages, but with or without her they would have changed. Please believe me, Twilight, nothing hurts my sister more than to know she will be remembered for another thousand years as the harbinger of a new dark age.”
“Hurts her? She... Celestia, she...” She killed him. She murdered him. She is a monster.
“I know what you’re thinking, Twilight. At times I have thought the same.” A look of deepest sorrow passed across Celestia’s face. “But right now she is hurting. She needs our understanding, not our anger.”
That didn’t seem likely. Certainly, it didn’t seem like Luna could feel even a shadow of the hatred Twilight now held in her heart.
But her hate could wait. It could fester forever, if Twilight wanted. She was in no rush to vent it just yet.
“That’s one question, then,” she said. “But why did you send me? Why put Cheerilee and me through that?”
“I needed you to see it, Twilight. I needed you to understand what the stakes are.”
“You could have written a letter.”
“I needed you to understand, Twilight. That’s why I asked Luna to invite you. You, of all ponies, needs to know what the future will hold.”
“Why me? I don’t want any part of this future.”
“Because the world will soon need ponies who understand the stakes, and are able to fight them.” Celestia stood and stepped down the stairs toward Twilight. She leaned forward until her muzzle was just inches from Twilight’s nose. “Tell me, have you ever heard of an ‘archmage’?”
* * * * * * * * *
