The Problem of Evil

by Quixotic Mage

Arc 2 Chapter 3: Connection

Spike was not wrong in his guess that Twilight would demand they stay on the training field for a long time. She kept Spike and Shining Armor there until she could reflexively generate a shield that could hold against every type of force the dummies could generate, every standard offensive spell Shining Armor knew – not including the dragon-slaying spell, once had been quite enough of that – and dragonfire, at least for a few seconds.

After Twilight managed to hold a shield against dragonfire for a short time, Shining Armor put his hoof down and declared an end to the practice. Twilight felt that she still had room to improve, but even she had to admit that they both had responsibilities that had been neglected in favor of the magic lesson.

The sun was setting as they dashed to the mess hall for a quick dinner and then went their separate ways, though Twilight did extract a promise from Shining Armor to pass along a few of his offensive spells as soon as an opportunity arose.

Twilight settled into her command center/tent for a few hours of nice relaxing paperwork. To another pony the red tape and bureaucracy necessary to keep the camp humming along might have been a chore, but to Twilight ink, parchment, and a good cup of tea made for the best possible evening, regardless of whether she was reading, writing, or doing paperwork.

Spike followed her in, partially because he still needed to report, but mostly because he’d simply missed spending time with her during the past few months. It didn’t hurt that Twilight had mentioned that Rarity often stopped by in the evenings to help finish everything that needed doing.

Sure enough, soon after Twilight and Spike had gotten settled Rarity breezed through the tent flaps. “Twilight, I –EEEKKKK!”

At Rarity’s sudden shriek Twilight winced and caught sight of Spike’s stricken expression. She moved to explain the situation, to offer comfort that Rarity was just startled, not afraid of him, and she hoped that it was true.

However, Rarity got there first. In a sudden rush she darted forward and wrapped Spike in a hug, talking a mile a minute. “Oh Spikey it’s so good to see you again. We’ve missed you darling. Where have you been? What have you been doing? Have you been eating right? I’ve been saving a few a gems for you, but you’ve grown so much I’m not sure you need them.”

The sheer relief that washed across Spike’s face was a pleasure to behold. With a laugh he delicately hugged Rarity back. “It’s good to see you too, Rarity. And please, one question at a time.”

With one last squeeze she let him go and stepped back. Her smile seemed too wide for her face and lit up her eyes. Twilight was surprised at the apparent depth of Rarity’s enthusiasm. Perhaps she had been more worried by Spike’s absence than she had let on.

“So?” Rarity said expectantly, “tell me all about it.”

He shot a glance over to Twilight. “I’d love to but I’m not sure I’m allowed to talk about it.”

Twilight waved a hoof. “I couldn’t keep anything from Rarity if I tried. Without her I couldn’t keep this place running half as smoothly. In fact,” Twilight added with a mischievous smirk, “you could say she’s become my number one assistant.”

Spike gasped and clutched a claw to his heart. “Rarity, you’ve stolen my place? I trusted you.”

She nudged him with her hoof. “Oh stop that, it would take three of me to replace you,” eyeing his larger frame she added, “almost literally. Now come on, I want to hear everything.” Rarity’s horn lit briefly and she dragged a cushion over and sat next to Spike, looking up at him expectantly.

Flustered by her attention, though not nearly as badly as he once would have been, Spike stammered. “Well, I, I,” he glanced over at Twilight who smiled encouragingly. His voice firmed and he continued. “I was with the other dragons.”

Rarity gasped and shot a glare at Twilight. “Twilight! How could you send Spike over to those ruffians alone? We’re fighting with them!”

“No no, it was okay,” Spike hastened to assure her. “I asked her if I could go. Dragon’s don’t have many young and they value the young they do have very highly. So we were pretty sure they wouldn’t just attack on sight. I still wanted to learn more about my kind and since we’re all stuck here for the time being it seemed like a chance that might not come again.”

“Still,” Rarity said, unconvinced, “I don’t like the thought of you going off alone like that.”

“If it helps,” Twilight interjected, “you could think of it this way. Spike’s been curious about dragons for a long time. Wouldn’t you rather he learned about them in a place and time where, if anything went wrong, we could be there with an army and a princess at a moment’s notice? That’s how I convinced myself to let him go anyway.”

“I see your point,” Rarity said primly. “Why the thought of them harming you, Spike, makes me wish I’d joined Applejack and Rainbow Dash in their military training.”

“I’d like to see that,” Spike chuckled. “Rarity in shining formfitting battle armor, charging into an army of dragons with a fierce battle cry,” he trailed off, staring into space.

Rarity and Twilight shared an amused look. “If armor’s so appealing to you I might just have an inspiration for my new dress line.”

“Spike, I thought the damsel was supposed to fantasize about rescue by a knight in shining armor, not the dragon,” Twilight teased.

Spike snapped back into focus and a pink tinge lit his purple cheeks. “That’s not– I didn’t– awwww.” Spike hung his head as they laughed good naturedly at him. “I couldn’t be cool and mysterious for even five minutes without sticking my claw in my mouth,” he lamented.

Rarity managed to stop laughing and put a hoof against his side. “It’s okay Spike. I think it’s cute when you get flustered like that. And I do still want to hear about your time in the dragon camp.”

“Thanks Rarity,” Spike said, smiling down at her. He hurried to continue before his sister could get it in her head to resume the teasing. “I actually met somedrake you six had met a while back. See if you can guess who it was.”

“A dragon that we’ve all met before other than you?” asked Rarity, surprised. “I can’t think of any.”

“The one in the cave!” Twilight burst out suddenly. “The one that was filling Equestria with smoke from the top of that mountain. You met that dragon?”

“Got it in one.” Spike said. “His name’s Thraxus and he’s even smaller than I am now, about Applejack’s size.”

“But darling, that can’t be the same dragon. The one we met in that cave was huge.”

“Yeah I was confused when he said that was him too, since you all had described him as being really large. That explanation was one of the most important things I learned from the other dragons. Remember that time I, ah, had some trouble with my size?” Spike asked, cringing from the shame of the memory.

“Yes,” Twilight said, “but I thought that was due to the effects of your run away greed?”

“It was, kind of. See, it turns out that a dragon’s size is related to the size of his hoard. Without any hoard you’re tiny.” Spike held out a claw at the height level he had been before. “Once you gain a few small items you’re a bit bigger.” He raised the claw to his chest height. “Once you have a strong foundation for your hoard you’re a bit bigger still.” He held the claw up to his own head. “And from there you grow a little more every time you add to your hoard.” He extended his arm to its full length above his head and then let it fall back down to his side.

“But what does that have to do with your greed growth,” Twilight asked, perplexed.

“If a dragon somehow manages to get a larger hoard then he’s ready for, mentally, he goes out of control,” Spike answered. “That’s a sign to other dragons that he’s weak and that they would be able to take his hoard away from him, shrinking him back down and forcing him to start growing his hoard again from the beginning. My case was a little different. Somepony managed to get through to me and I instinctively gave up the ‘hoard’ of miscellaneous items I had assembled.” He smiled earnestly at Rarity. “I can’t thank you enough for setting me straight back then.”

“I was happy to see you return to normal, Spike,” Rarity responded warmly.

“So then how come that other dragon, Thraxus, shrunk? Did some other dragon take away his hoard?” Twilight asked, still focused on understanding dragon physiology.

Spike laughed again. “Not a dragon, Fluttershy. Apparently, when she scolded him into leaving it was sufficiently similar to one dragon claiming the hoard of another that, before he had flown more than a couple miles, he snapped back into a body barely older than a hatchling. The other dragons were very impressed with Fluttershy. Dragons of Thraxus’ size and age don’t often lose, and when they do they rarely lose everything like that. Last I heard he wanted to meet her again.”

“Should we be worried for Fluttershy?” Rarity asked, concerned.

“I don’t think so. If a dragon loses his or her hoard then that proves they should not have had it in the first place,” Spike clarified. “Looking for revenge would be frowned upon. Trying to win back some of your hoard might be okay but Fluttershy could just explain she didn’t keep it and I don’t think she’d be bothered. Plus, Fluttershy handled him when he was huge, I think she’ll be okay now that he’s pony-sized.”

As Spike spoke Twilight had pulled out a blank sheet of paper and begun scribbling notes, not wanting to lose a chance to record first-hoof information from the secretive culture of the dragons. “Fascinating,” she muttered. “I’d love to write a paper on this.” When he stopped speaking she scanned back over the document, making sure her writing was legible and accurate. A further question occurred to her as she read.

She looked up. “Spike, from what you’ve said you must have a hoard somewhere to have grown as large as you have. Where is your hoard?

Rarity jumped in, eyes shining at the thought of a hoard of gems. “What’s in it? Diamonds? Rubies? Perhaps a nice sapphire or two? How’d you get it anyway?”

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “One question at a time, Rarity, Twilight, please. My hoard is…around.” His eyes narrowed and he wouldn’t meet either pony’s gaze. “I’d really rather not explain actually. You might take it the wrong way.”

Twilight blinked. Spike had never hidden anything from her. Well, childish secrets occasionally, who took the gems from the gem drawer for instance, but never anything important. Aloud she said, “If that’s what you’d prefer, Spike. I trust you not to have done anything wrong in collecting your hoard so I won’t force you to tell me.”

He looked up, surprised that she was being so understanding, and the guilt on his face grew more pronounced. He took a deep breath and let it out, careful to aim outside the tent so the inside wouldn’t grow smoky. “No,” he said heavily. “You both have a right to know. I’ll tell you. But please promise to listen to me all the way through.”

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” they both said. Twilight smiled slightly, now that she had the eyepatch she didn’t have to worry about accidentally poking her eye any more. A small silver lining if there ever was one.

“Okay,’ said Spike, steeling himself. “My hoard currently consists of the Elements of Harmony.”

“What!?” The word came out as if ripped from inside Twilight. “That’s not-“

“Listen!” Spike almost shouted. “It’s not just the physical necklaces and crown. In a larger sense you six are the Elements of Harmony. You all are my hoard.”

“You’re not exactly helping your case there, Spike,” Twilight observed tartly.

Rarity had stiffened away from him. “Being your hoard makes it sound like you own us. Like we’re just possessions to you. I’d hate to imagine you could think of us that way.

Spike stood, staring down at them, now with anger or as a threat, just to impress upon them how serious he was. He spoke slowly and carefully, but with an urgent need to be understood. “Do you know what a hoard is to a dragon? I didn’t, but Iolite was explained to me. A hoard must be made up of gold and gems and other precious objects, but that’s not what a hoard truly is. The hoard is the dragon. The dragon defines himself by what he chooses to add to his hoard. He forces himself to grow with every item added, to be more than he was before, to protect that which is most precious to him.”

Sighing, Spike looked away. “I don’t know if I can explain it right. But when Iolite was explaining to me how important a hoard is to a dragon, how it shapes and is shaped by them in turn, all I could think of was you, my friends, and all that you mean to me. And then, when I realized that as the Elements of Harmony you six are close enough to gems to count for a dragon’s hoard sense, I was happy. I thought I could finally grow a little. That I could become strong so that I wouldn’t have to be left behind anymore. That I could protect you all instead of being left behind as you all go off to save the world.”

He closed his eyes and hung his head. “That was what I was going for anyway. If… If I haven’t made any sense at all, and this still bothers you, I will relinquish my ‘hoard’ and go back to being small. The last thing I want is to upset either – any of you.”

Rarity and Twilight shared a troubled look. Twilight, at least, was at a loss for words. On the one hoof, she wasn’t terribly happy with being considered part of a hoard. On the other, when she thought about how she would feel if she had to let her friends go face danger without her, she could understand where Spike was coming from. In addition, she was slightly distracted with trying to write down everything Spike had said while it was still fresh.

Fortunately, Rarity was not distracted and slightly more adept at communication than Twilight. “Spike, let me make sure I understand. Does being in your hoard let you, say, tell us what to do, or anything like that?”

He shook his head. “It shouldn’t, and I wouldn’t want that if it could. Iolite and Sim weren’t quite sure how it would work since usually gems aren’t alive. When I explained befriending you all and how you have this connection to the Elements I think they understood why I wanted to try though.”

Rarity nodded slowly. “So it sounds like, for a dragon, being part of your hoard is another way of saying something is near to your heart. Is that fair?”

“Yeah,” Spike said slowly, looking up with hope in his eyes.

“Well then,” said Rarity cheerily, “I see no problem with that. And I am touched that you want so desperately to stay with all of us.” She glanced over at the purple pony. “Do you have any problem with that, Twilight?”

Twilight stopped writing and looked up, concern still written across her face. “What about the physical necklaces and gems? Won’t them being in your hoard pose a problem if we actually have to use them?”

Spike shook his head. “No. Since you six are the Elements, you possessing them doesn’t impinge on them being in my hoard. It’s as if I claimed them and then left them lying around.” He grinned. “Normally that would be stupid since they would be taken immediately, but I think you six can protect yourselves. The only way there would be a problem is if they get taken from you, like Discord did, or if one of you gets hurt.”

Twilight nodded slowly, thinking it through. “So it sounds as if the Elements stay with us and the hoard is just the way dragons would express the connection you share with the six of us. I guess there wasn’t a real disagreement so much as a problem with semantics and cultural definitions.” She smiled and laid a hoof on his shoulder. “We are family after all. If that is what a hoard means to a dragon, then I would be happy to be part of your hoard.”

Looking distinctly misty-eyed Spike’s long arms swept out and encircled both of them in a tight hug. “Thank you, both of you. I won’t let you down.” Twilight hugged him back with the ease of long familiarity while Rarity stayed still, allowing him to have his moment. Soon enough embarrassment got the better of Spike and he released them both. “Ahem, sorry about that. Lost my head for a moment.”

Rarity placed a comforting hoof on his side. “Quite alright, darling. That can’t have been easy for you to explain to us. I’m just glad we can put this little misunderstanding behind us.”

“While we’re at it, is there anything else you need to tell us? Anything other dramatic bombshells waiting to be dropped?” Twilight teased.

“I think that covers it,” Spike said wryly. A sudden light dawned in his eyes and he knocked himself beside the head. “Duh, no. Actually there is something else I need to tell you.” Noting their looks of trepidation, he hastened to add, “nothing bad. Just that, as you requested, the dragons are willing to open negotiations. Specifically, Sim agreed to meet with you for some preliminary discussions. I think it’s able to make binding decisions since it’s the highest ranking dragon in their camp. Though dragon hierarchies can be a little muddled sometimes.”

Twilight leapt to her feet. “Really? Excellent! Well done, Spike. My plans are finally starting to bear fruit. When and where did it say it wanted to meet?”

“It wants to meet in three days in the city, at the midpoint between our two camps,” Spike answered. “It stipulated that up to two others may accompany you and it will follow similar restrictions. If that was not acceptable I was to return to the dragon camp to continue pre-negotiation negotiations. Otherwise it said that it would see you in three days’ time.”

Gleefully, Twilight clapped her hooves together. “That will be fine. If nothing goes wrong, we’ll finally be able to begin breaking this stalemate in three days.”

***

Through fuzzy warmth Luna swam toward wakefulness. She was wrapped deeply in her cloud bed and just wanted to stay that way, forever if possible. Unfortunately, she heard delicate hoofsteps coming to drag her out of bed. Luna pulled the upper cloud layer tight under her chin and prayed that they would just pass her by. No such luck. The hoofsteps stopped right in front of her bed and a warm light shone over her. For a moment she dared to hope.

“Tia?” she called out muzzily.

“No, your highness. I’m sorry, but I’m not your sister.”

“Go ‘way, then,” Luna grumbled, rolling over and pulling her head below the covers.

“Your highness, it’s time for you to raise the sun.”

Raising the sun had grown routine. Even the twinge of pain and blasphemy she felt at touching the sun had grown routine. Not faded, never faded so long as her sister still wasn’t there, but routine. Without raising her head Princess Luna reached within herself, passed her ordinary magic, to the place where the mantles of sun and moon waited. Extending a tendril of herself to both she let their power fill her, becoming aware of the moon and the sun, floating in the sky and below the earth, respectively, reflected across the horizon.

There was no ceremony to this scared act. Luna had no taste for it today. There was no subtle lightening of the sky or fading of the moon. The sun leapt into the sky and the moon fell, as mechanical as a merchant’s balance in the marketplace.

“There,” Luna muttered, not even bothering to wake up fully. “Now let me sleep.”

“As you wish, your highness.”

Luna sank back down past the Dreaming, where she dared not go lest she rediscover the Nightmare, into the empty void of dreamless sleep. She heard the hoofsteps cross her room and the faint thunk of the door swinging shut.

***

Hours later, when the sun had traveled much further along it’s tracked path, a stray sunbeam chanced to fall across Luna’s exposed eyes. Slowly regaining her senses, she felt the same sudden burst of hope and sickening swoop of disappointment as she realized that her sister was still gone. For a moment she considered giving the day up as a waste and falling back asleep. Then she considered smiting the sun from the sky for having the temerity to wake her up.

Fortunately for all concerned, at that moment there came a knock at the door. A voice called out, “Princess would you care to get up? I’ve brought you breakfast.”

Breakfast in bed was a passable recompense for getting up, so Luna dragged herself into a sitting position. “I’m awake. You
may enter.”

There was a moment of fumbling at the door before Sunlit Rooms poked her head in. One wing grasped the door knob and pushed the door open while the other was stretched out as flat as possible with a tray of food balanced on top of it. She deftly shut the door behind her and trotted across the room, laying the tray out before Luna.

It was an impressive spread, made all the more so by the limited rations forced on a wartime camp far from resupply lines. Two cups, one holding coffee and the other tea steamed lightly in one corner. In another stood a bowl of wheat squares with a bottle of milk on the side to prevent them from getting soggy. A lovely bowl of warm oatmeal with a dusting of golden brown sugar on the top and moat of cream around it sat in the center of the tray. Completing the meal was a plate with a halved orange and a rasher of hay bacon strips.

Somewhat spoiled for choice, Luna hesitated before digging into the oatmeal. She ate happily for a moment, letting the sweet sugar soothe her sour disposition, before noting that Sunlit Rooms was simply standing in attendance by her bed. “Would you like any of this?” Luna offered.

Despite the time they had spent together over the past few months Sunlit Rooms looked almost startled to be invited to share the royal meal, as it were. “Oh no, I couldn’t,” she protested.

“Nonsense. It’s too much for me to eat all on my own. And I would feel bad if you just stood there watching me.”

Sunlit’s indecision was decisively solved when Luna levitated a slice of hay bacon over the pegasus. She hesitantly took it in one wing and nibbled at it while Luna continued to work on the oatmeal.

As Luna ate, details from yesterday started to filter into her mind. Her concert, her discussion with the quartermaster, lunch and another argument with Twilight. Her movements slowed as the memories sped up. Painting on and on through the afternoon and into the evening, not even stopping or noticing when she lowered the sun by instinct. Finally, she saw, as if from the outside, herself sobbing on the floor of her gallery.

That still left the question of how she had made it to bed. No, wait. There was a memory of the sensation of somepony much smaller than herself doing their level best to pull her to her hooves. They had slowly helped her to her room and a soft wing had brushed across her forehead as the other pony gently guided her into bed and drew the covers up.

Luna blinked and stopped eating, looking at the other pony in the room. “You were the one who got me to bed last night?”

“I just lent a wing,” Sunlit Rooms offered, not meeting Luna’s gaze.

“You did a good bit more than that, dragging my sorry carcass across the room,” Luna said bitterly. “I’m sorry you had to see your princess like that. Ha! Some princess.”

“It’s alright princess,” Sunlit Rooms said softly. “I know you must be under terrible pressure these days.”

“Pressure,” Luna spat. “Just the pressure of my own sins. A ruler should be better than that, stronger than that, like my sister whom nopony save Twilight even remembers.”

Sunlit Rooms wore an expression that Luna had grown to hate, even though she couldn’t fully parse it. There was sympathy in it, not pity and not empathy because neither would be appropriate coming from pony to princess and Sunlit knew it. Other elements seemed to be concern and solicitousness. Sunlit looked at Luna as if she was suffering under a great burden in place of her ponies, as if Luna was martyring herself for the good of her subjects.

Luna, of course, knew that that was not true. There was nothing in her suffering that was for anypony else. It was purely her own pain, her own mistakes that haunted her and even if she somehow managed to throw off the guilt it would be meaningless to anypony else.

All of a sudden the near-empty room felt stifling. Sunlit Room’s gaze lay heavy on Luna, a multiplier on the force of her own self-loathing. The lack of windows and weighty warm cloud quilt were all too close and Luna felt as if she could barely breathe. With a sudden jerk she threw off the blankets, nearly knocking the breakfast tray to the ground.

“I am going to look for my sister,” Luna said absently.

Sunlit Rooms’ face fell from inscrutability to disappointment. Or was it just sorrow? Luna couldn’t seem to tell anymore. “Are you sure, your highness?” the little white pegasus asked hesitantly. “It’s just, you never come back from that in a better mood.”

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure.” Luna waved off Sunlit’s concern and strode from the room. Like a gnat that couldn’t be swatted, Sunlit’s expression stayed with Luna as she walked away. It buzzed in her ear, bringing the memories Luna sought to burry to the forefront of her mind. Still trying to put it behind her she climbed the steps to the highest level.

The ponies that had forced her into a building had chosen well. There were many pleasant features to her temporary house, but the best of them all was the top floor. At the top of a steep flight of stairs a small wooden door opened to the outer air. On the other side was a small rooftop garden. It was perfectly circular with a diameter of about forty feet. A rectangular patch of earth where a garden must have once stood covered a section of the roof opposite the door. Around the edges ran a fence for the safety of any non-pegasi – or non-alicorns – that might choose to visit the roof.

In the center of the roof stood a raised circular platform no more than nine feet wide. A wrought-iron staircase circled around the iron base of the platform, completing a single revolution as it reached the railing-less floor of the platform.

Though she could have flown to the top, Luna felt it was necessary to walk up the staircase each time she came to sit in this place. It was as though flying would prevent her from reaching her destination, would cause her to reach some other platform removed from the real world or the view she sought. Hooves clinked on iron as she reached the top of the platform and gazed out across the city.

The crystal citadel dominated her view. Gigantic crystal walls threw themselves at the heavens, their reflected light striving to rival the sun. Within was a great warren of buildings, far more closely set and interconnected than the outskirts inhabited by the pony, dragon, and griffon encampments. This warren was the citadel, rival to her sister’s castle in Canterlot or the ancient Castle of the Two Sisters in the Everfree Forest. Those walls had once held the nobility and royal body of the Crystal Empire and, later still, had held King Sombra and the cruel servants he gathered to himself to administer his empire of slaves.

And it was in the crystal spire that those august and occasionally infamous personages had been housed. At the center of the citadel the great spire of crystal rose. Naturally, it’s crystal was of the same type as the walls, but if the walls strove to outshine the sun, the spire tried to drink it in. Though it was bathed in sunlight the spire gave off no reflections, it drank in the light and seemed perpetually under cloud.

The sharp peak of the spire reminded Luna of nothing so much as the horn of a dark king rising from beneath the earth. Luna knew, too, that the spire’s foundation was held up on four corners that matched the four cardinal directions. She had entered one of those foundations many months ago and traveled down into the earth to find King Sombra not nearly so imprisoned as she might have hoped.

Blueblood and his fellow revolutionaries had been in that citadel, with access to the spire and its prison below the foundations, for six months now. They had had plenty of time to find King Sombra, or be found by him, and then…

Luna did not know what would happen then. Perhaps King Sombra could use them, against their will or not, to break free. Perhaps he would simply sup of their life force and grow stronger. The risk was too great that he was free already and some trap had been laid for her, so Luna dared not enter. Instead, she sat atop her tower and watched.

Luna reached within herself, past the place where the magic of a pony lay, to where her immortal power sat and pulled it up from her core to sit behind her eyes. Had there been anypony else around to watch, they would have seen a wind rise around Luna and her eyes begin to glow a fiery white. But, there was nopony to watch. Sunlit Rooms had seen it once and fled in terror, refusing to return to the roof from then on. Luna was touched that the other pony hadn’t simply abandoned her in fear after that first time.

Looking out at the citadel and the horizon Luna scanned for any sign of immortal magic. As always, the first she found was her own innate immortal power. Too close to be seen but certainly felt. Next came the mantles of sun and moon that she currently held. Only one of which could she ever truly own.

After that came the city itself. The crystal empire glowed faintly with immortal power. It flowed in a trickle from each crystal building, merging in the streets to a stream. The streets gathered and grew stronger in the squares and open spaces, all flowing to the center. At the crystal spire the four foundations drew the immortal magic of the city up through the structure. At the very peak of the spire the magic burst free like water from a fountain and spread out across the city and possibly beyond.

If only she could remember what it meant. Luna remembered that the Crystal Empire had had a magic all its own, one that could influence the lives of ponies and other sentient creatures the world over. It was why she and her sister had attacked when the dark King had come to rule, to prevent the misuse of the empire. If only she could remember what that misuse or use had been. Unfortunately, the Nightmare had followed hard on the heels of that battle and Luna only faintly remembered the empire at all, let along what it was used for. Though she remembered just fine the fear inspired by King Sombra.

Luna shivered and tried to push all memory of the king away. But no, like iron to a lodestone her eyes were drawn down, to the base of the spire and below. He should not have been visible to her gaze; only immortal magic should have appeared. But then, he had never been ordinary. He had stolen it, somehow, had drawn immortal magic to himself and bound it irrevocably to his soul. So now, when Luna searched for the power of immortals she saw his terrible eyes, cloaked in shadow, lurking below the spire and – if it wasn’t a trick – still trapped by the bright bars of her sister’s prison of sunlight.

Tearing her eyes away, Luna looked for brighter magic. She turned slowly in a circle, looking for faint glimmerings of light, hints that the magic of her sister was not lost forever. Sometimes she almost thought she could seem them, floating on the breeze, following this pony or that. Always when Luna peered closer the light would vanish; a cruel inversion of mist burned away by sunlight.

Luna sat upon the platform for hours, her eyes running from one source of immortal magic to another. Hours passed as she slowly rotated, scanning all 360 degrees in hopes that some arc might hold a trace of her dear departed sister. First clockwise then counterclockwise she turned, knowing that that could make no difference, but hoping that the small change would bring her new sight. As hard as she looked she could not find even the smallest glimmer of her sister’s magic. So, when the sun reached the edge of the horizon she brought forth her the mantles, lowered the sun, raised the moon, and climbed down from her perch.

Reentering the building and descending the stairs Luna was greeted by Sunlit Rooms’ worried face. The princess couldn’t help but search that caring face for some trace of Celestia, but found nothing. As always. Failing that, she turned her attention to the comforting repast Sunlit had readied.

Luna ate her tomato soup and grilled cheese in silence. With a gesture she offered to share with the other pony. Sunlit declined, indicating that she had already eaten. Only as she was mopping up the last of the soup with the remaining crusts of bread did Luna speak.

“I haven’t thanked you, have I? For taking care of me, I mean. And don’t,” she said, holding up a hoof to forestall objections, “say that it’s all part of the job.” Sunlit closed her mouth, having been about to make precisely that objection. “We both know that that’s not true. You were an advisor and scribe before we came to the Crystal Empire. By rights you should have gone with Twilight when I refused to take charge. But you didn’t. You didn’t leave me alone.” Luna shifted, not meeting Sunlit’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“Oh, princess,” Sunlit said softly. “I took this job to help Equestria and that’s what I’m doing. As a scribe or as a fr-caretaker to you.”

Reaching out with a wing, Luna tentatively hugged the other pony. “Friend, please. I have few enough that I would not begrudge you of all ponies from using that word if you so choose. And it does me good to have a friend with whom I am not perpetually fighting.”

Sunlit had stiffened, surprised by Luna’s intimacy, but as Luna spoke she relaxed and leaned into the larger pony. “Well then I can be your peaceful friend and we can let Twilight be your frenemy.”

“Frenemy,” Luna repeated, tasting the modern word on her tongue. “Yes I think that fits. She does prick me so but I cannot bring myself to hate or even truly dislike her. I just don’t think she understands how dangerous it would be if I started giving orders,” Luna mused

“Ah, princess?” Sunlit asked, tapping on Luna’s wing.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” Luna hurriedly apologized and removed her wing from the other pony a faint blush staining her dark face.

“For what it’s worth,” Sunlit said hesitantly, taking a deep breath, “I do think Twilight has a point. This camp and Equestria would only benefit from you taking a closer hoof in things. Twilight’s friend Rarity keeps me up to date and, well, it seems like you’re needed.”

“Needed like a horn in the gut,” Luna said bitterly. “There would be no rebellion had I not made such mistakes in the first place. Celestia would still be here and there would have been no Nightmare if I had just accepted that I was not and am not a capable leader. No, I will wait for calmer times to slowly and safely learn the ways of leadership. I am content to fight at Twilight’s discretion and that is all I will do.”

“Princess, without you, as a leader not just a fighter, there may not be calmer times,” Sunlit said directly. “Anypony who has lived as long as you have is going to make mistakes. But you could also use what you know to do so much good for all of us.”

“My sister managed to do a great deal of good without making mistakes like mine,” Luna responded.

“Without warning anypony she left Equestria in the hooves of an uncertain pony recently returned from exile and unfamiliar with our modern era. I’d call that a mistake.” Sunlit’s nostrils flared and a rare tinge of anger colored her words.

Luna’s ears drooped and her whole body wilted. “See? You do think me running Equestria was a mistake.”

“I think it was your sister’s mistake, and one that placed unfair pressure on you,” Sunlit correctly gently. “And you yourself admitted that you made some mistakes. But princess, over the past six months I have gotten to know you. The real you, not the placeholder that memory spell gave me. You know what? Despite any mistakes you may have made, I trust you.” Sunlit smiled and offered Luna a wing hug of her own. “Just try and trust yourself a little more.”

Returning the hug, Luna managed a small smile. “Perhaps you are right. After all, if you and Twilight say the same thing, then it bears listening to. I will think on what you’ve said.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Sunlit replied. She scooped up Luna’s dinner tray on one wing and trotted to the door. It glowed blue as Luna’s magic swung it open and Sunlit glanced back. “Thank you. Anything else I can get you, princess?”

“No, you’ve done more than enough and I will be retiring soon. See you tomorrow morning.”

“Alright then, good night.”

“All nights are good for the night is mine,” Luna declared.

“That’s the spirit!” Sunlit cheered. They shared a chuckle as she departed and Luna’s magic closed the door behind her.

Force of habit led Luna to her painting room. There the moonlight bathed her easel through the skylight, setting the white paper aglow. Her paints too glimmered in the fey blue light. Reaching out with her magic she grasped her brushes and set to work.

She did not go so deep into herself this night as she had previously. There was not the same need to assuage pain and lose herself in the act of creation. Still, as the brushes moved she felt the familiar trance come over her. Eyes unseeing, she painted by the light of her own moon.

It did not take long this time. Before she knew it, Luna found herself cleaning her brushes, the completed painting waiting behind her. When the brushes were clean and the pallet squared away, she had no further cause to procrastinate. She approached the canvas, eyes down, knowing that the hope she felt was futile.

And so it was.

Raising her eyes, she beheld a version of herself, her mane and tail not ethereal but a plain light blue. Her body was small, no larger than an ordinary pony. Luna looked as she had on the day she returned from the moon, after the Elements of Harmony had pulled her from the Nightmare.

It was not what she wanted to see because it was not herself, not truly. Nevertheless, today had not been a bad day and her younger innocent self was not the Nightmare. So there were no tears today as she carried the painting into her gallery and placed it into the wall. No smiles either, as she left the room that carried so many reminders of her greatest sin. Sometimes calmness and dry eyes are the most that can be fairly asked for, and the most that can be granted.

***

The next day found Luna approaching the lone park within the pony encampment. Truthfully, she had wanted to spend another day perched on the roof looking for some trace of Celestia. However, she had set up the days on which she borrowed instruments from other ponies ahead of time and she worried that missing a day would lead to them refusing to lend the instruments to her.

As she neared the park the sweet tones of the very instruments she was going to play came drifting to her ears. When she entered the park she found that the ponies had formed themselves into an impromptu jam session and were making their way through a few simple songs like hot cross wings and white floral bells. Even the digeridoo, played by a rough scarred earth pony veteran, was doing its level best to blend in with the other instruments.

Luna stopped to listen, enjoying the sound of music made by other ponies. Unfortunately, one of the musicians caught sight of her and quickly broke off, cutting off the others as well. She trotted over to Luna to apologize. “Princess! We didn’t see you there. We didn’t mean any harm, just getting some practice in before you arrived. Not that you were late of course, or anything like that,” she said, stumbling over her words.

“Peace, private Willowwind,” Luna cut off the smaller pony, reading her name off her uniform. “I liked to listen to you play, all of you,” she added, addressing the gathered group. “By all means, please, continue.”

“Would you like to conduct us?” Willowwind asked.

Now it was Luna’s turn to hesitate. Conducting was a difficult task, one that could only be accomplished by the most skilled of unicorns. A conductor was responsible not only for keeping time and guiding the music, but also for using their magic to control and balance the sounds produced. Adjusting music in real time for greatest effect was no mean feat. Luna understood that a new type of conductor called a “DJ” mixed and balanced the recordings of other ponies. However, working with live music and musicians added a layer of complexity. Luna worried she was too far out of practice and too unused to dealing with other ponies to do the task justice.

Still, Sunlit had encouraged her to trust herself more. And if she couldn’t trust herself with a consequence free opportunity like this, how could Luna trust herself with weightier decisions? She nodded, “Thank you, private Willowwind. I would like to try my hoof at conducting once more.”

Moving to stand before the assembled ponies, she searched her memory for a piece of music that both she and they would know. Nothing seemed to quite fit. There were a few simple pieces that they all would know, but they didn’t seem worthy of an ensemble led by a princess. She would be rather embarrassed to direct them in playing ‘twinkle twinkle little star’, even if it was thematically appropriate. Casting her mind over the more complicated pieces she knew, nothing seemed appropriate to her mood and the moment. In any case, most of those pieces had been lost to the flow of time these past thousand years.

Instead as she looked out at the gathered ponies, waiting for her direction, she reached to that place of creation that dwells within all, mortal and immortal alike. “Let’s make something new.” The musicians shifted at that and glanced at one another, uncertain of this new direction. They were professionals though, and beyond that they were soldiers and she the princess.

First Luna arranged them into sections. On one side of their small park stood the percussion, mostly snare drums with a few other instruments to add variety to the sound. The brass, by far the most numerous with trumpets, horns, and the odd euphonium or saxophone, stood in the center. On the other side stood the stringed instruments. Mostly violins, though there was one grey earth pony mare who somehow managed to play a cello standing up.

When the musicians were arranged to Luna’s satisfaction, she returned to the front and used magic to raise the ground up slightly so that all the musicians could see her. Starting with the drums she began to work on bringing out the music that was just beginning to take shape in her head. Each section was separately made to play and replay at her direction and slowly the pieces merged in her head until she felt confident starting the piece in earnest.

Just as the dreamer cannot tell the moment in which they enter the dream, so too was Luna unaware of the moment when she ceased to compose the music and began to conduct it. As the whole group began to play together, Luna’s awareness of the world faded. No longer could she tell the composer from the music, it was hers through and through. The beat of the drums was the beat of her own heart, the brass her breath and the strings the creaking of her sinews. The addition of the other ponies should have merely made it rougher, less pristine compared to the music she had played alone.

And yet, somehow, this music felt more real. More intimate. The gestalt of the musicians, even with their own quirks was a glorious and intensely personal exaltation of the Lunar Princess.

At its core there was a military theme inherent in the steady beat of the drums. Layered over top of that base was a strange cyclical melody. First the brass would own the melody and it was bright and shining, almost playful in its sheer exhilarated celebration and joy. Then, as the piece wore on, the brass waned and the tone of the music darkened. As it fell the strings waxed stronger and took over the melody. A deeper tone controlled the music, led by that talented grey cellist. There was a fey wildness to the music now, a deepness that spoke of deeds both thrilling and terrifying done in dark of night. Sparks fairly flew from their bows, threading midnight longings through steadily sinking notes.

At its deepest, when the instruments reached the depth of their range or, in some cases, the depths of pony hearing, the brass flared suddenly to life. Like a comet in the night the brass pushed back against the darker tones. It brought a return of playfulness and childlike innocence. And the cycle began again.

Dimly, Luna was aware of the gathering onlookers and through that she knew that the music they now played was no simple practice session. Something was happening here. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something – she looked down at her coat and chuckled – blue.

And then there was the music again, whisking her away. She climbed her way through its soaring peaks and slid down to the deepest troughs. She felt magic, immortal magic, draining out of her, but it was removed, distant, like sitting still to watch the far off motion of the moon and stars.

In place of the magic, the music was filling her up. A rising tide stormed through her, sending her heart racing and blood pounding and mind spinning into infinity. Racing back through memories, dancing over joys and sorrows. It was too much, all too much, and Luna felt it bubble up and overflow.

Not losing her place as conductor, for the magic or the music – or was there even a difference – would not allow it, Luna opened her mouth to give voice to her self. Her tongue naturally found its way to old Equestrian. The first language, one she and her sister had created together over many long years, so that they might understand one another and name the world and all its parts. It was a language familiar to perhaps ten ponies that currently lived and maybe four that spoke it fluently.

So it was with greatest shock that when Luna began to sing, her song roared forth from the throat of every musician’s not already using their mouth to make music. It wasn’t just the musicians either. From all around Luna could hear the onlookers, observers no more, join in singing words of a song none could know, in a language none could speak.

They were not puppets in their singing, each brought to the music their own individuality. A faint Trottingham accent from the grey mare, a lisp from a child too young to form the harsher buzzes of that ancient language, a clipped precise shortness from the soldiers, all blended in her – their – music.

As Luna surveyed the gather ponies, truly seeing them for the first time, she did not find the glazed mindlessness of thralls, as she’d feared she would. Instead all eyes shone with pride, with joy, and yes, with love for their Lunar Princess. Tears ran unstinting down Luna’s face, but her voice did not waver. It grew stronger instead, stretching out from a mortal voice to that of a goddess, gathering up all the threads offered by the ponies and weaving them together into one harmonious cord.

To say that Luna never wanted the music to end would be true, but it would miss the point. This experience, this music, sprung not from some external source, but from the wellspring of magic within Luna’s own self reaching out to connect with the magic that lurks in every soul. Swept along as she was, it was still her piece and, if she wished it, she could have prolonged the piece until the other ponies chose not to continue or collapsed from exhaustion. However, that choice would have been unworthy of the music, tarnishing the beauty they had just created.

So at the appropriate time, neither rushing nor hurrying, Luna gently but firmly brought the music to its conclusion. As the last strains of the music died away silence took its place. No pony quite knew what to say, still caught as they were in the unity of the experience. Luna wanted to say something, to thank them all for being a part of this, but her throat closed up and words just wouldn’t come.

It fell to the old digeridoo player to be the first to speak. “For Princess Luna,” he said, his soft voice booming into the stillness.

“For the New Lunar Republic!” cheered another soldier. Others took up the call.

“The New Lunar Republic!”

“Lunar Republic!”

“For the honor of the glorious New Lunar Republic!”

“What they said!”

If Luna had been unable to speak before there was absolutely no chance she’d be able to now. It took everything she had just to wave to the crowd. She stepped down from her conductor’s platform and the crowd parted, allowing her to walk away. Her mask of dignity was a thin veneer hiding the tumult within. Behind her she could hear the ponies excitedly discussing what had just happened, explaining it to those not fortunate enough to have reached the park in time to join in.

Luna spent the rest of the day trying to process what she had done in that park that afternoon. The creative fugue was not unknown to her. In the past her most beautiful creations had been the result of that state. Indeed, it was those very creations that she had hoped might be appreciated by the other ponies in the same way they appreciated Celestia’s peace and order.

This time had been different. Never before had the creative fugue included other ponies. Luna had not even known that was possible. She had viewed true creation as a high and lonely endeavor, a state knowable to other ponies only through its fruits. With this music she had been joined in her fugue by as many as a hundred other ponies, each bringing with them their own perspectives and imperfections. Luna would have thought such a collection of mortal fallibility would inevitably leave her creation less than it would otherwise have been.

Instead, it was as fine an effort as she had ever made. And more, it had been beloved by all who heard or made it. Luna knew in her heart that it would spread, the music crafted today would echo long into the future. A belief that was confirmed when Sunlit Rooms returned in the evening and reported that the music had been titled the Anthem of the Lunar Republic.

The music was carved into the souls of each pony that had played it and they were eagerly teaching the words and music to others. Later repetitions by pony’s that had not been present were not quite the same. They did not have the same grandeur or magic, but the heart of the piece survived. Thrived, even, as it spread from pony to pony. Luna looked upon her work and saw that it was good.

That evening, when she painted her daily self-portrait it was again a picture of her younger self. Still, she fancied that the blue of her coat was just a tad deeper and her mane contained just a hint of her ethereal stars.

It was a start.

Author's Note:

It might sound strange to say, but I really liked this chapter. It's got a little of everything: some Twilight, some Luna, character development, some action (or what passes for action in this story). I just generally felt as though the chapter accomplishes everything I wanted it to do. Plus it's mostly uplifting or happy stuff, which I frankly much prefer writing to the sadder material. (Note, I make no promises about the happy/sadness ratio of the rest of the story.)

Plus we get more Spike and learn why he's bigger, so that's fun.

Anyway, thanks for reading and I will (travel gods willing) see you next Saturday!

Comments

[Infamous Paradox]

Nice going with the detail on dragon hoarding explanation, it was really nicely done. I can wait when they try to explain that to either AJ and RD, it is going to be an experience for them. Let's call Twilight, Frenemy, I can see that. I am hoping Luna gets out of that slum really soon. Other than that really good chapter!

[Lunar Justice]

Twilight in this story reminds me of Masamune Date. The daimyo of the date clan after the unification. She has one eye like him and she is a good commander but has her flaws aswell. Wich i believe makes her a very interesting character. She is also quite powerful but she does not brute force it, instead her greatest weapon is her mind and the tactics and cleverness she employs while having the skill to back it up. Here's hoping that Twi and Luna can be on better terms again. Cause if what the letter said is true, then in the future Luna and Twi will be the only constant in each others lives. And after losing Celestia both of them kinda needs something to anchor them to the ground, especially in these uncertain times. Loved the song composing and seems that everyone is starting to rally behind Luna again. I wish this story was more well known. It's really good. I can't wait for the next chapter, Great work!

[Antiquarian]

I wish that I could individually like chapters, but that would be redundant since I like them all.