–––Epilogue–––
Life returned to normal, as it so often did following a crisis. An exhausted but happy Twilight returned to Ponyville with her friends to much home-coming celebration. The towers of the castle were rebuilt and looked more stunning than ever. And Celestia and Luna took on their normal roles over the sun and moon, city and country.
They were closer. They had been far from distant before everything had started, but there was a noticeable improvement in their relationship now. It wasn't anything drastic, but when they met at the changing-of-the-guard, their smiles were just a little wider. At breakfast, the banter was just a little more relaxed. And on formal occasions together, they were just a little more mischievous. It was as though there'd been an elephant in the room that had suddenly vanished, and the new atmosphere between them was just wonderful.
And for six months afterwards, about three times a week, a beautiful, ethereal blue bridge, sparkling like crystal, could be seen extending into the sky from Canterlot Tower, seeming to reach all the way to the moon itself. Luna would constantly drop subtle hints, but Celestia knew better than to ask. Partly because she didn't want to give Luna the satisfaction of teasing her, and partly because she didn't want to ruin the surprise.
And finally, when, after sun had set and moon had risen at the end of a particularly arduous day, Luna turned to her sister and asked if she'd like to spend a weekend away – assuring her she had arranged for Twilight to sit in as caretaker while they were gone – she had politely and graciously jumped at the chance.
By virtue of the length of the Bridge, the journey to and from the moon would always take them several hours. But it was several hours in quiet, pleasurable company with nothing to do but talk and listen to whatever might be troubling them, or was otherwise on their minds.
But when the Bridge brought them right to the foot of Luna's castle, and Celestia looked up and beheld it, she couldn't stifle a hushed gasp.
To say it had changed was an understatement. Where before the architecture had been dark and foreboding, with just the addition of some colour the whole theme of the building had changed to something light and airy. The grand, double doors at the castle entrance were still the same, but they had been cleaned, polished, varnished, had their hinges oiled. They had had a great deal of TLC put into them, and that same effort seemed to apply absolutely everywhere.
And over the doors themselves, a new stone plaque had been erected, into which was neatly, expertly engraved, Midnight Castle.
"I have spared no expense," boasted Luna as she led her sister inside, and the transformation was staggering. Gone were the dark, brooding hallways, statues, weapons and gargoyles. Instead, everything had been brightened, cleaned and polished. The hallways were finished now in a neat, natural sandstone-effect and filled with warm, soft light. Tall vases bristling with flowers were recessed into every alcove where, once, one was almost certain to find a grisly statue of Nightmare Moon. Lavish white-and-purple curtains with gold trim hung across every window. Plush, ruby-red carpets lined the centre of every corridor. The study was filled with books, the kitchen was fully stocked with food...and there was even a new guest bedroom!
She led her sister into the former throne room. Here too, everything had been transformed, and, like the rest of the castle, it was filled now with a soft, warm golden light. The dais remained, but the throne atop it had been removed; replaced instead with an enormous octagonal hot-tub. Thanks to some magical trickery, it was filled with water that shimmered – and from certain angles actually looked – like liquid gold. The tall, stained-glass windows in the tower above no longer depicted the images of Nightmare Moon in poses of conflict or domination, but instead showed representations of a golden-yellow fire, seeming to climb the eight-sided tower to the ceiling high above them. And when the light played off the surface of the water in the bath in just the right way, the fire in the stained-glass windows even seemed to flicker gently.
"Do you like it?" asked Luna, with the hesitant timbre of an artist hoping their work will be appreciated.
"Luna it's...wonderful," said Celestia, captivated. There simply wasn't another word she could think of, and certainly none that could do it justice.
"Come. I want to show you this most of all."
Luna led her a little way down the castle corridor and around the corner to the slightly higher-and-wider doors to Celestia's former prison-room. The doors themselves had undergone the same restorative treatment as the rest of the castle, and above them the engravings of the sun, moon and eclipse had been polished so that the stone positively gleamed.
Pushing both doors open, Luna led her sister proudly where she had once led her with guilt and self-loathing.
And it seemed this room had been transformed most of all. It too was finished in the same light, sandstone effect as the rest of the castle, and filled with the same soft, golden light. And neither the structure nor the size of the room had been inherently altered. But all of the foulness, the bitterness, and the vengefulness that had once infected the walls was gone and instead...well, it smelled faintly of roses. Plush carpet once more lined the floor, and large floor cushions were strewn haphazardly around the perimeter. The overall impression was that this was a room where it was very comfortable to be.
On each of the eight walls, the depictions of Nightmare Moon had been struck. Hung in their place were eight vertical tapestries; lovingly embroidered, exquisitely detailed scenes cast onto a deep red background.
On the first, an eclipse, the dark moon obscuring the golden sun; the second, a scene of both sisters flying from Canterlot; the third, a large, bronze dragon reclining in a throne, before which stood two small alicorns and a red dragon; the fourth, an image of the gate of Tartarus in front of a river upon which floated a small boat with no sail, crewed by a hooded and cloaked figure. There was even a three-headed dog there, if you looked carefully.
On the fifth, two ponies flew overhead while a great chained sea-monster battled a flock of crows in the centre of a raging whirlpool, a tall mountain in the background. The sixth was a depiction of the moon and the earth joined by a blue bridge upon which two silhouettes walked in profile – sequins even serving to make the bridge appear to sparkle in the light. The seventh showed the two sisters flying across a broken landscape on the back of a red dragon, with Canterlot in the background; and the eighth and final was an image of the full moon in all its glory, being carried aloft by Luna and Celestia on spread wings.
The tapestries were breathtaking, but they were little more than a compliment to the main attraction. In the centre of the room, the stone plinth still stood, although the faint purple shimmer it had once held was gone, and so was the Celestia-shaped indentation. On each of the vertical sides of the plinth, a different word was engraved.
Guardian. Warden. Protector. Guide.
And on top of the plinth stood a new statue, stunningly worked, lovingly polished to a mirror, marble shine.
Celestia and Luna, walking side by side with warm, happy smiles. Celestia looking down at her little sister, Luna looking back up at her big one, both sheltering the other beneath a single extended wing.
And directly beneath and in front of them, on the top face of the plinth, was a golden plaque into which another word was etched. The name Luna had given to the statue, and both the reason for, and consequence of, their entire journey.
Trust.