A Little Less Exposition, a Little More Action, Please
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A Little Less Exposition, a Little More Action, Please
Canterlot was burning.
Columns of thick, black smoke darkened the sky and obscured the sun. Against the murky backdrop, it was difficult – but not impossible – to make out the shapes flying above the city, some high while others dangerously low. Twilight couldn’t help but look up fearfully every time movement above caught her eye, wary of an attack from above.
Everything was chaos as the group of guardsponies escorted the covered wagon through the eerily deserted back streets. Shining Armor had insisted on hiding both her and her mentor during their flight from Canterlot, and Twilight had agreed with his decision. Less palatable to her was the thought of splitting them up; fortunately, she had managed to convince her brother otherwise.
Twilight hadn’t seen him since they left the castle; he had elected to lead one of the decoys in an attempt to draw the griffons’ attention. The fear for him was just one of the few jostling for room within her mind.
The cart rumbled past another shattered house, the guardsponies pulling it cursing as they dragged it through the field of the building’s debris that littered the street, and Twilight gazed at the shell that remained. The fires ignited by the artillery shelling had nearly burned themselves out, leaving little more than a blackened wooden frame. Idly, the unicorn wondered if anypony had been inside the house when it had been hit. She wondered if they’d survived.
Canterlot had been under siege for only a few days before the griffons began their push into the city. Their armies had rushed north at a blistering pace, taking the capital almost entirely by surprise. Few ponies had had time to flee the city, and the one who should’ve left the most had elected to stay behind. Celestia told her advisors, and Twilight’s brother, that she could not run away from the city while so many of her subjects remained behind. Argument after argument had failed to sway her, and then the griffons had been upon them.
Presumably, their eagerness to take the city resulted from desperation to capture their prize. The war would rapidly be over should Celestia be captured or killed. Shining Armor had known this and forbidden the princess from participating in the fighting – a bold move, even for the head of the Royal Guard. Fortunately Celestia had acquiesced and thus far remained safe. At least, until the griffons unleashed their full-out assault on the city and Shining had bluntly told the alicorn that he and his men could not protect her if she stayed. That had led to their current flight, a desperate dash from the city hopefully made without attracting the griffons’ attention. Once safely out of the city, they could make their way someplace safe – though Twilight doubted anywhere really was safe anymore.
She hadn’t the faintest idea how much longer that flight would take, however. The empty streets were unfamiliar and blurred together, and she had no idea how long they’d been traveling, save that it was too long. Another fear grew within her chest; shouldn’t they have made it out of the city by now?
Twilight turned from gazing out of the back flap of the covered wagon to meet the gaze of Princess Celestia. The alicorn was lying serenely on the floor of the cart, seemingly unaffected by the distant gunfire and explosions. Their eyes met, and Celestia smiled reassuringly at her. The unicorn felt herself relax. She didn’t know how the princess managed to stay so calm, but her confidence helped comfort Twilight greatly. She opened her mouth to ask for further reassurance – something about how much further they had to go – when a thought came to her.
Something was wrong. Twilight felt a brief flash of precognition – something bad was about to happen. Where in Equestria did that come from?, she asked herself. The unicorn turned back to check outside the flap when shouts arose from the guards outside.
A gun went off and Twilight hit the floor. The air was suddenly filled with shouts and screams of pain. A commanding voice cut through the sudden din and hail of bullets, and the wagon leapt forward. Twilight peeked out the back and saw most of the Royal Guards firing furiously at a flock of griffons descending upon them from above. Several of the attackers broke off and swept after the cart.
Twilight turned to look back at Celestia and then there was a cry from one of the ponies pulling the wagon. In the next moment the cart was swerving violently. Twilight slammed painfully into the side and then the wagon flipped, skidding several feet before stopping completely.
The unicorn could barely move for the pain all over her body. Outside the surviving guardsponies were shouting again, but Twilight couldn’t make them out over the roaring in her ears. The unicorn looked desperately at Celestia, but she wasn’t moving.
The guardsponies couldn’t hold off the griffons for long, she knew. Part of her desperately scrambled for something she could do to help them, maybe a spell, but she found herself paralyzed.
A heavy form thudded onto the wall of the cart above her, and she whimpered with fear. Twilight could only watch as a set of claws pricked the thick fabric above her, preparing to slash it open. She screamed as the griffon tore the tarp in one violent motion –
Twilight jerked awake suddenly, panting. She looked wildly around her small, spare room for a moment, disoriented and panicked. As she remembered where she was, she slowly sank back onto her pillow. It was just a dream, she reminded herself firmly in an attempt to calm herself down. One that really shouldn’t scare you anymore, given how many times you’ve had it.
She shook her head to clear away the lingering wisps of the nightmare and collapsed back onto her pillow. Almost every night it was the same – a vivid dream of their flight from Canterlot ending with the cart’s crash after one of the ponies pulling it was shot. Only thanks to Celestia’s intervention had she or any of the surviving Royal Guards made it out of the city alive that day. But the moment had stayed with her; the terror she had felt as she lay there helplessly haunted her dreams. It was pointless, she told herself as she stared at the ceiling. All these memories did was keep her awake. But still, when she closed her eyes they threatened again.
Twilight sighed and rolled over. Her horn glowed briefly, illuminating a small clock on her bedside table that read two in the morning. Why did she keep doing this to herself?, she asked rhetorically. What was the point?
She knew, of course, that it was hardly intentional. And that she couldn’t think of a single way to keep those memories from coming back, save time. But the part of her that craved sleep was infuriated by her nightmares. Once again she swore to herself that she would figure out a way to deal with them come morning, some kind of spell perhaps. She was well aware, however, that it was doubtful she would accomplish anything of the sort.
It had been difficult to do anything at all in the days since that frantic flight from the city. Her exhaustion was only part of the problem; the aching sense of loss she felt robbed her of what little energy she had left. As she trod that familiar path within her mind a wave of grief loomed inside her. She told herself that she wasn’t going to recall the pain yet again, that she had to sleep, but it proved to be a futile struggle.
Her brother, Shining, gone. That was the most painful thought. Him and his idiotic devotion to duty, his stupid decision to lead a decoy right into enemy lines; and now he was dead, cut down by a squad of griffon soldiers. Other ponies praised his heroics, lauded his actions as the only reason Princess Celestia had managed to escape; all Twilight felt was the agony of losing her brother and only friend.
Quit mourning and get some rest, the unicorn told herself. But still her mind plunged on. Her parents were gone too, missing during the siege. Shining Armor had sent a guard to ensure they made it out of the city, all that he could spare, but he had never returned. Her parents hadn’t turned up in any of the refugee camps, either. Twilight didn’t know if they’d been killed during the bombardment or by the griffons when they overran the city; the attackers weren’t taking prisoners in their war of cleansing. For days she’d held out hope that her parents had made it out but couldn’t contact her, long after everypony else agreed that there were no more survivors to be found.
Twilight’s tears had flown for days over her brother’s loss; by the time she had finally given up hope on her parents there were none left. Instead she wandered the fortress’s halls in a stupor, unsure of what to do with herself. The castle here in Stalliongrad was the polar opposite of the one in Canterlot; that one bright and beautiful, this one dark and ugly. It was squat, solid, built for one thing and one thing only – defense. Twilight found no solace within its dark hallways and dusty storerooms; even its scant library did nothing to help her. It wasn’t for lack of trying – she spent many hours there, curled up with a copy of a familiar book on magical theory, or even a collection of poetry that she never would’ve touched before, only to stare blankly at a page without seeing any of the words.
Were it not for Princess Celestia, Twilight knew, she would’ve given up entirely. The princess was the only family, of sorts, that Twilight had left; really, the only anything she had left. It was Celestia who had consoled her over the death of her family, who had opened her door to Twilight whenever the unicorn needed her. Of course, Twilight didn’t take her up on her offer; she couldn’t. Celestia had a war to run, and Twilight couldn’t bear the thought of selfishly taking her away from such grave matters. The princess’s example was enough.
As cities fell, towns were butchered, and Prance’s ambassador rejected her desperate plea for aid yet again, Celestia remained strong. Twilight felt her own pain at the loss of her family, and realized the unfathomable depths of sorrow the princess must feel at the deaths of tens of thousands of her beloved subjects. Equestria was fighting a war for its survival while everypony else sat by and watched, and losing badly, but still Celestia refused to give in to despair. Her strength was inspirational to every pony around her; and if she could stay strong in the face of such adversity, Twilight told herself, so can I.
Of course, strength helped her little in falling back asleep. Once again she had started to think the same thoughts she had a dozen times before, a cycle she had repeated many times over the past week. It was easy to take comfort in the familiar, perhaps, but constantly recalling what she’d lost and how she’d withstood it so far accomplished nothing. Enough was enough, Twilight thought. Time to try a new tactic besides repeating facts to distract herself from what she felt.
Desperately, Twilight looked inward, seeking the source of the emotions that kept her mind in such turmoil. If she could identify the roots of her problems and convince herself that they weren’t problems, however temporarily, perhaps she could find peace long enough to get a few hours’ sleep. But rather than the grief she’d expected, Twilight found an overbearing guilt weighing heavily on her mind. The unicorn asked herself what reason she had to feel guilty and the answer hit her like a bolt of lightning.
She had done nothing. Griffons had invaded Equestria, looting, burning, and killing, and all she’d done was run away. Shining Armor had given his life to stop the invaders. Celestia worked tirelessly around the clock to manage the war effort. Ponies from across the country were fighting for their homes, their family, their very survival, aiding in whatever way they could. And yet here she sat, moping around the castle, grieving what she’d lost.
How many ponies had lost just as much but kept fighting anyway? Or had done something, at least? How could she justify her inaction when so many others had managed to forge ahead through similar excuses? Twilight thought back to the guards who had given their lives so she could escape Canterlot, including her brother. How was she repaying their sacrifices – by wallowing in misery and self-pity?
The sudden accusations flowed forth like water from a burst dam; the self-loathing was overwhelming. Twilight felt horribly guilty about her childish behavior over the past weeks. She could not justify her inaction; even as part of her mind protested that she was still mourning the terrible loss she’d experienced the rest of her denied such an excuse. She admired Celestia’s example so much, and what had the princess done but forge ahead through much greater sorrow? She was a hypocrite, a coward, a weakling who had sat idly by while marauding monsters destroyed everything she loved, all of it made even worse because she’d remained oblivious to her faults for so long.
The weight of this revelation bore down upon her harshly. But a sudden idea cut through it all, a beam of hope for her pitiful self that she reached for like a drowning pony. A realization of how to make amends for her failures, one so incredibly simple that she almost laughed out loud with relief.
If she had been weak so far, then it was time to be strong. Time to take heart and overcome her cowardice. She would make up for her inaction with action. It was an obvious decision, one that she should’ve made weeks ago. Twilight thought of her brother, of his service and his commitment. She owed him a debt far beyond what she could repay, but she would do her best. He had given his life to save hers; the unicorn swore to repay the debt in kind.
This new purpose suddenly calmed her. Before she had felt nothing but uncertainty and doubt; now she knew what was wrong and how to fix it. She finally had the answer. And with her guilt thusly identified and assuaged, Twilight Sparkle rolled over and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
“Princess Celestia!” Twilight called eagerly, catching a glimpse of her distinctive mane in the cluster of ponies further down the hallway.
Worried that her voice hadn’t been heard over the chatter of officials leaving the war meeting, she trotted down the hallway and called again. This time she was rewarded with Celestia’s attention; the princess turned and spotted her, a smile breaking out on her face. She stepped through the crowd of aides and military figures, which easily parted to let her through, and knelt to hug Twilight as she ran to her.
“Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia greeted her gently, giving her a tight embrace. She pulled back and looked her in the eyes. “It has been too long since we have spoken. I’ve been worried about you.”
She didn’t respond, unsure of what to say. Celestia looked at her searchingly; certainly she noticed the bags under Twilight’s eyes and her mildly unkempt coat and mane. “I asked you to come to me if you needed anypony to talk to, yet I haven’t seen you once.” There was a note of reproach in her voice.
Twilight suddenly felt very small. “I’ve been fine,” she said meekly, unable to meet her mentor’s gaze. “Besides, you’ve been so busy…I didn’t want to bother you.”
The princess shook her head. “Walk with me, Twilight.” She turned and started off down the hallway, Twilight obeying and falling in step beside her.
“You know I can make time for you if you want me to, Twilight,” Celestia reprimanded her. “I understand why you might me reluctant to discuss what happened – it can’t be easy to think about, much less talk about. But as painful as that may be, it is far less painful than keeping it bottled up inside.”
Twilight’s cheeks burned. “I just thought, with the war effort and all –“
Celestia stopped and turned to her. “The war effort does not occupy all of my time, Twilight Sparkle. Troop deployments and battle plans will not change because I worry about them ceaselessly. While I appreciate your consideration, I suspect that is not the whole truth of why you have been avoiding me.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you!” protested Twilight.
The princess shook her head and continued walking. “Perhaps not, Twilight. But that is inconsequential now; we are talking, are we not? It’s an improvement, even if I did have to send for you specifically to make it happen.”
Twilight trotted to catch up. “You sent for me?”
Celestia glanced at her, surprised. “You didn’t know? I thought that was why you came. Though I suppose that explains why you are talking to me now, rather than later as I requested in my message.”
Why did you want to see me?”
“I suppose I could ask you the same question,” replied Celestia, rounding yet another corner in the castle’s mazelike hallways. “I had hoped to ask a favor of you; unfortunately, at the moment I must go review the latest company of recruits that have completed their training. I make a point of seeing each new unit off to battle personally; it the least I can do for them.”
“I’m sure they appreciate it.”
Celestia smiled faintly. “They most certainly do.” Then she grimaced. “A cheap trick to improve their morale before sending them to fight another losing battle. I hate this war.”
Twilight was taken aback by the sudden change in the princess’s demeanor. Her mood had gone from her usual air of confidence and optimism to one of sadness and anger – and at the drop of a hat, to boot.
The princess shook her head, and she was back to her normal self. “My apologies,” she said. “At any rate, I’m afraid this is one of the few moments that I really cannot stop and talk. I had hoped to speak with you after I returned this evening; we should be able to talk uninterrupted.”
Still confused by Celestia’s rapid changes in mood, Twilight hesitated before replying. “Uh, yeah, that should be fine, I think.”
“Whatever it is that you wished to discuss with me can wait?”
She nodded. “Yes, it can.”
“Very well.” Their walk had brought them to the entry hall of the keep, a large room with a high, vaulted ceiling that vanished into a gloomy darkness. The entire castle was incredibly somber, all dark wood, gray stone, and tiny windows. Twilight hated it. “I’ll be off, then,” Celestia continued. “I should be back in a few hours. Until then.”
Twilight bowed. “I look forward to your return, princess,” she said, trying her best to sound as mockingly formal as possible.
It worked a little, bringing a small smile to the princess’s face. She nodded and walked towards the doors, gathering two guards as she stepped through into the courtyard. Twilight noticed they were Royal Guardsponies, a rare sight since most had fallen during the Siege of Canterlot.
Along with her brother. She winced as that thought entered her head, and quickly pushed it back to wherever it had come from. Surprisingly, it worked – mostly – and she sighed in relief. Determining to keep herself busy until Celestia’s return, Twilight trotted off to the castle library. Hopefully she could concentrate on a book this time.
Celestia held the door into her personal quarters open for Twilight to walk through. “Please ensure that we are not disturbed,” the princess ordered the guards stationed outside her room. “Tell any visitors that they can wait until tomorrow.”
“Yes, your majesty,” one replied. Celestia nodded and followed her student into the room, closing the door behind her. It was late, almost ten, and a fire was burning in the fireplace for light, rather than heat. Stalliongrad was much colder than Canterlot, but it still was the height of summer.
“Um, princess,” Twilight started tentatively, recalling their earlier conversation and Celestia’s disappointment. “I don’t know that I’ll be in here for that long; I don’t have much that I need to talk to you about.”
Celestia smiled. “Actually, that goes more to my request than yours, Twilight. If you’ll allow me ask first?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” She walked over and sat on the rug that occupied much of the floor in front of the fireplace, motioning for Twilight to do the same. As Twilight trotted over and seated herself, Celestia said, “I don’t know if you remember, what with everything that has happened recently, but tomorrow is the summer solstice.”
“Really?” Twilight had lost track of time; even usually important dates like the solstice had been forgotten amongst the larger events in her mind. She processed that for a moment. “I guess we won’t be having much of a Summer Sun Celebration, huh?”
“I’m afraid not,” Celestia replied gently. “Some of my advisors thought it would be best to hold some kind of festivities, to boost the spirits of the ponies here. But in the end I wasn’t comfortable channeling money and effort into such frivolous activities when they could be spent on other, more important things. However, I still wish to hold some observance of the occasion, especially given this year’s significance; in fact, I was wondering if you would like to join me.”
“Sure,” Twilight replied. “What makes this year so important?”
The princess sighed. “It has been one thousand years since I exiled my sister, Luna. I’m sure you’ve heard the legend?”
Of course Twilight knew the legend of Nightmare Moon; everypony did. But up until then she had assumed it was largely just that – a legend. “Are the stories about that true?”
“More or less,” replied Celestia. “They do get the important bits correct, for the most part. At any rate, this year marks a special anniversary, of sorts, though a far from happy one. I feel obligated to observe it in some way, even if the traditional celebrations cannot be held.”
“What do you want to do?”
“A simple vigil. It’s not much, but to be honest it was the only idea I was able to come up with. It’s a sort of remembrance, both of my sister and all the ponies who have been lost in this war. I plan on staying up all night before raising the sun tomorrow morning – I feel it’s a fitting homage to the goddess of the night. Would you care to join me?”
Twilight didn’t see any reason why not. “Sure. It’s not like I get much sleep anyway,” she added jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
The princess smiled. “Thank you, Twilight. I greatly appreciate your company.” She shifted her position to lie on the carpet. “Best to get comfortable, I think.”
Twilight mimicked her action, settling into the very plush rug. It’ll be hard not to fall asleep on this later, she thought. She’d have to be extra careful not to doze off; this vigil seemed important to Celestia.
“So tell me, Twilight,” began Celestia, drawing her from her thoughts. “What did you wish to discuss with me?”
“Oh.” She had actually just resolved to talk about it tomorrow, not wishing to spoil the vigil. “Well…it wasn’t that important. We can talk about it later.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Part of the reason I asked you to join me tonight was so we’d have plenty of time to catch up, given how little of you I’ve seen over the past week or so.” The princess’s tone carried a hint of a reprimand. “We’re going to be spending quite a while together tonight, Twilight, and while I don’t mind silent meditation I’d also be perfectly fine with avoiding it as much as possible.”
“Okay…” Rather than reassuring her, Celestia’s words only made Twilight more anxious. It was clear she wanted to help Twilight deal with what she’d lost – she obviously thought that Twilight needed her help. While she might be pleased to learn that her student had found her own way to cope, she might not be so happy with what that method was. But she had already made up her mind to be braver; if she backed out now, there was no hope for her left. Twilight took a deep breath.
“I want to join the army.” There, she said it.
Celestia was clearly taken aback. “I’m sorry?”
Twilight immediately regretted bringing it up. Celestia would never approve – she should’ve known that from the beginning. She immediately tried to justify herself. “I just…I want to help. I want to do something.”
“And you settled on joining the army because…?”
“Well…” Twilight hesitated a moment before explaining her thoughts from the night before, and the resolution she had made. Celestia listened intently, not saying a word. Finally, Twilight fell silent.
The princess was quiet for a long time. Twilight grew more and more nervous; her mentor had clearly been disturbed by what Twilight had said. She would never approve. How could she? It was all a dumb idea and she never should’ve brought it up.
“It is, of course, your decision to make,” Celestia said finally. Twilight looked at her in surprise; that wasn’t the answer she was expecting. She continued, “But it is an extremely serious decision. I advise you to spend a little more time thinking about it before enlisting.”
“But…I can?” Twilight asked tentatively.
“Of course you can,” replied the princess, as though she were surprised Twilight even had to ask the question. “Did you think I would forbid you?”
Twilight hesitated, and then nodded. “I do not claim any more power over you than you give me, Twilight,” Celestia told her. “I am your teacher, not your parent. You are free to make your own decisions, regardless of my opinion on the matter.”
“Oh.” She suddenly felt ridiculous for thinking any different. “But what do you think about the idea, princess?” she persisted.
There was a long pause before Celestia answered, as if she were carefully considering what to say. “Choosing war is never an easy decision, Twilight,” she said finally. “The lifestyle is difficult – disciplined and demanding. But even worse is your job. Taking others’ lives is never easy – nor should it be. To say nothing, of course, of the risks you take yourself, putting your life on the line.”
Twilight wasn’t satisfied with this answer. “But what do you think?” she pressed.
The princess locked eyes with her. “Were this any other situation, I would strictly advise you against it. Now, however…” She paused, as if picking her next words carefully. “I cannot see you in a military lifestyle – it’s so different from what you’re used to. That isn’t a bad thing, mind you, but it is the truth. If you choose that path, you will suffer, both physically and mentally, and you may die. I could not bear to see you hurt. But at the same time, I know that you already have been. And if you truly believe that joining the war will help, or that it is the right thing to do, I will not stop you.”
Twilight nodded slowly. “But,” Celestia added, “I would warn you. War changes everything that it touches, and rarely for the better. Pain, suffering, adversity – all of these shape you, whether you realize it or not. Perhaps they already have, given what you’ve been through. Try to be aware of their influences, Twilight – especially so should you choose to enlist.”
Twilight found herself unsure of how to respond, so she nodded in agreement. A silence fell over the room, one that Celestia seemed content to leave alone. Twilight found herself with too much thinking to do to carry on a conversation. She worked it all over in her head, asking what she expected, what she planned, what she was going to do. What was the right course? And what did the princess mean, about war changing whatever it touched? Twilight hadn’t changed, she was pretty sure, but Celestia seemed to think otherwise, didn’t she? Rather than clarifying things for her, the princess’s words had only made things more difficult.
Her thoughts ran in circles as the minutes turned into hours. The mentor and her student were both absorbed in thought – one thinking of past peace, the other of future war. It was an unbroken meditation that carried them well into the night.
Twilight was brought out of her soul-searching when Celestia suddenly stood. She hesitated as the princess walked to the window, one of the few that were larger than an arrow slit, before clambering to her hooves to join her. Celestia was staring up at the bright full moon that filled the night sky.
“Do you recall the legends of Nightmare Moon, Twilight?” she asked softly.
The question struck Twilight as a bit odd, but then why wouldn’t Celestia be thinking of her sister on a night like tonight? “Of course, princess,” she replied.
“One thousand years ago tonight…” said Celestia, almost to herself. “She attacked me on that day on purpose, the longest day of the year, the day most sacred to me. The pain was…unbearable. To watch Luna be warped and twisted into that…thing. And what I was forced to do to her – one thousand years of exile is a serious punishment, but I had no choice.”
Twilight wasn’t sure how to respond, so she remained silent. But the princess’s words reminded her of something she had read long ago. What was it…?
Celestia sighed and turned from the window. “But there was nothing I could do for her. It was foretold that someday there would be hope for her, but on that day, there was none. Exile was the only option, my only chance of protecting both her and my people.”
Twilight paused to look up at the moon before following suit. “Why couldn’t you help her?” she asked.
“It was beyond my power. There was only one way to save her – a method beyond even me. And so I had to wait. One thousand painful years have passed, only to come to this.” She looked over at Twilight. “War. Death. The destruction of our people. To have come so close and to fail now…it is almost more than I can bear.”
It’s been a thousand years.” Twilight suddenly recalled where she’d heard that before. “Tonight – the longest day of the thousandth year…”
“So you’ve heard the prophecy. Good.”
She had, although she hadn’t remembered it until now. And Twilight froze as the full realization of what it had said hit her. On the longest night of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape...
“Princess!” she said urgently. “The prophecy! Nightmare Moon –“
“I am aware of the prophecy, Twilight,” Celestia told her firmly, cutting her off. “Calm yourself. Everything is under control.”
Be calm? Was she crazy? “But princess –“
“Hush, Twilight. We have a visitor.”
A what? A chill ran down Twilight’s spine. She turned to follow Celestia’s gaze, and saw a deep purple mist oozing through the cracks between the stones of the bedroom wall. It pulsed and writhed with an unnatural energy. Twilight felt herself retreat a few steps, almost unconsciously, back towards Celestia. The mist coalesced, swirling about and solidifying into a tall, imposing form. Black hooves crowned with cold, pale shoes, a corrupted symbol of royalty, took ringing steps on the hard stone floor. The face that emerged from the mist was regal and refined, but cruel and dreadful at the same time, made all the more intimidating by the long, sharp horn jutting proudly from her forehead. The fog, sparkled with stars, remained, flowing like a mane and tale behind the intimidating figure.
Nightmare Moon had finally returned.
Twilight was paralyzed with fear as the terrifying apparition shook her head and fixed her and Celestia with a menacing glare. Celestia gazed back, seemingly unfazed. For several moments the two deities locked eyes. Suddenly Nightmare Moon broke out into a smile, a menacing expression that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Sister!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping false affection. “It has been far too long since we last talked! How on earth have you been?”
Celestia made no reply. Nightmare Moon took a step forwards. “I mean literally on earth, of course, for you see I’ve been trapped on the moon for the past, oh…one thousand years or so.” Her voice hardened with anger. “Alone in the cold and endless void for a millennium. Perhaps you forgot?”
“Never,” Celestia replied evenly. “Every day I mourned the loss of my sister.”
Nightmare Moon snorted. “Of course you did. Well, mourn no more, for I have returned!”
“You have,” Celestia said coolly. “She hasn’t.”
She put a hoof over her heart, feigning pain. “You wound me, dear sister! And here I thought you’d be happy to see me again!”
“Enough.” Celestia stamped her hoof firmly. “I have no interest in playing your games. We both know why you’re here.”
Nightmare Moon rolled her eyes. “I should hope so. But come now, must we concentrate on that…unpleasantness? I had hoped to enjoy this reunion before souring the occasion with all that.”
She waited for a reply, and received none. The false smile dropped from her face. “Very well,” she said, all trace of sarcastic humor gone from her voice. “I have come to claim the throne of Equestria, mine by right of conquest. A delayed conquest, perhaps, but, now that you lack those incredibly irritating Elements, one that you cannot prevent. Any last words, sister?”
“Wait!” commanded Celestia.
She grinned. “Poor choice.”
“Hear me out!” Celestia took a step forward. “There are things we must discuss before you do anything rash.”
Nightmare Moon laughed. “Rash? I’ve had a thousand years to plan this out; there’s nothing rash about it. You have nothing to say that would interest me or convince me to change my plans.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Celestia paused to let that sink in before continuing. “You were not blind on that moon. Do not pretend that you are unaware of what has passed here – you know what is going on even as we speak.”
“There’s a difference between knowing and caring, sister. None of the past will matter once I bring the kingdom under my rule.”
“Not much of a kingdom, at the moment,” Celestia replied. “You must know of the war we fight with the griffons.”
“I do,” replied Nightmare Moon warily, clearly unsure of where she was headed.
“Then you must also know that we are fighting a war for our very survival. One that we do not stand a great chance of winning.”
“The fact that you lack the leadership skills needed to win a war is not new to me.”
“Would you stop trying to insult me for one moment? Put aside your vanity!” Celestia urged. “Equestria is dying, you fool, and her people along with her! Surely you must realize that there is no point in staging a mutiny on a ship that is sinking!”
Nightmare Moon shook her head. “If you think to convince me to leave you on the throne –“
“I don’t. But even you can see that now is not the best time for a regime change.”
She paused for several moments, considering. “And what are you suggesting instead?” she finally asked cautiously. “That I leave and come back at a better time?”
Celestia shook her head. “No. I’m asking for your help.”
It was difficult to tell who was more surprised, Nightmare Moon or Twilight. The former burst out laughing, while the latter’s jaw dropped. Had Celestia lost her mind? Why on earth would she appeal to a monster like Nightmare Moon?
Meanwhile, Nightmare Moon’s laughter petered out as it became clear that Celestia was not joking. “You mean it?” she asked, still disbelieving. “You want my help?”
“You know the situation. Is that so hard to believe, given the circumstances?”
“Actually…yes. Why on earth would you ask me, your sworn enemy and corruption of your dear sister, for help?”
“Because I need all the help I can get,” said Celestia simply. “More importantly, I cannot afford the alternative; either I ally with you or you overthrow me and doom Equestria to destruction.”
“I’m hurt that you think so little of me. You don’t think I could assert my authority over your kingdom?”
“Eventually, yes. But in the meantime all would be confusion and resistance, and while you cemented your rule the griffons would overrun Equestria. I doubt you’ve been so blinded by power and pride that you don’t realize that.”
Nightmare Moon opened her mouth to reply, and Celestia hurriedly added, “And if you have been, at least consider if you are willing to take the chance that you’re wrong.”
There was a pause. “So what exactly are you proposing instead?” she asked.
“We work together to win this war by any means necessary. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“And when we win?”
Celestia snorted. “At the moment, it’s more of an ‘if’ than a ‘when.’ As such, I’m not particularly concerned with what comes after the war – only that there is an ‘after the war.’”
Nightmare Moon nodded slowly, considering. “And how do you know you can trust me?” she asked.
“I don’t,” replied Celestia candidly. “But you’re an intelligent mare. My hope is you’re smart enough to see the benefits of what I propose as opposed to what you’re planning.”
“Hmmm…” Nightmare Moon thought it over. “I want to be clear on one thing, right now: the moment our partnership becomes more of a hindrance that a help to me, it will be over. Do not believe for a second that you have or will ‘reform’ me or any such nonsense.”
“I would never expect any different.”
“Very well.” Nightmare Moon stepped forward until she stood mere inches from Celestia. “I will accept your proposal.”
“Good.”
The two locked eyes again, tension sparking between them. Finally, Nightmare Moon nodded. “So that’s that. Not how I expected the night to play out. No need to show me to my quarters,” she added. “I can find them myself.” She stepped back and began fading. “I look forward to working with you…sister!” she called mockingly as she faded into smoke and left.
Once she’d left, Celestia sagged noticeably. She let out a long sigh and trotted back to her spot by the fire, settling heavily back on the rug.
“Princess!” Twilight said, shaking her head to clear her confusion. She didn’t even know where to start. “Did that…just happen?”
Celestia merely nodded in reply.
“You allied with Nightmare Moon…” Twilight still couldn’t believe it. “Why?”
“The same reasons I told her – you heard them, did you not? I couldn’t let her overthrow me now; the ensuing chaos would lose us this war for certain.”
“And this is better?” demanded Twilight.
Celestia fixed her with a look. “You tell me. Which would you prefer: death at the claws of the griffons or living under the iron rule of the monster that my sister has become?”
Twilight was at a loss for words. Celestia sighed and shook her head. “It was not an easy choice, but one that I had to make. My kingdom – my people – must survive, even if I do not. I would rather condemn them to slavery under Nightmare Moon then death, though the former is only marginally less terrible than the latter. And I hope that in the end it will not come to either, despite what Nightmare Moon said.”
She considered the Celestia’s words. It made sense, she supposed – particularly if Celestia was going to try and reform Nightmare Moon, as the mare had put it. In that light, the alliance was more of a delaying tactic. But whatever the reasons, it was Celestia’s decision. That, at least, was unquestionable, unassailable; Celestia knew better than Twilight in such matters. Realizing that suddenly cleared the confusion and doubt from Twilight’s mind rather well, actually. In fact, she reflected, she had only one question.
“Why did you want me here tonight?”
“Because you would’ve met Nightmare Moon sooner or later – she wouldn’t be able to stay away from a pony as important as my personal student – but I wanted to ensure that your first encounter was with me by your side, so that you hopefully won’t fear her or be intimidated by her.”
“I don’t know if that worked,” Twilight replied hesitantly.
“I sincerely hope that it did,” Celestia told her. “You cannot fear her, Twilight. Nor can you hide from her. You must face her head on, know her, speak with her. It is of the utmost importance.”
“Why?”
Celestia turned to gaze into the fire. “Because I suspect you are her, and my, only hope,”
she said softly.