The Moon Also Rises

by Nicroburst

Ten

He seems unstoppable. But then, that is why I am here. My sister chose to stay, to protect our people as best she can. If she hasn’t halted his advance, by now he will have covered our homes. I pray she succeeds, even if that act damns me. I pray for the survival of our species.

Ten

THE FADING LIGHT OF HER RAGE WAS A BITTERSWEET RELIEF TO LUNA, its ruddy red brilliance, mixing with the flaring argence in the heavens and searing her eyes, so long in the darkness. Squinting, she was able to make out the shapes surrounding her; a vast bowl, dug into the land, and two curving paths, leading upward, leading out.

Luna had seen the ocean before, of course. Equestria’s east and west borders were both on the coastline, and there were many smaller villages and towns that made a living on what the seas provided, not to mention the larger cities. She was no stranger to the great depths and currents, the tranquillity of the sea at rest and the fury of it whipped into storm.

She was, after all, responsible for maintaining the tides.

She could understand the ocean. But this . . . this defied logic. The pool stretched beyond the limits of her sight, beyond the reach of the light of her horn. It sat in a cavern, what felt miles below the surface, and it boiled. The mass of water, enough to drown a city, seethed, moving in a chaotic pattern. Yet there was no wind here, nothing to stir it to such heights.

A wave, as tall as the towers of Canterlot, crashed down onto Luna, laying her mane flat against her neck. As she blinked the water out of her eyes, struggling to understand, to see what drove the waters so, she realised something astounding.

She was not angry. There was no pool of rage within her, fit to match the storm before her. It had been drained, completely and utterly in her attack on her captor.

Luna reached out, into the waters and the air above them. Holding her magic steady despite the battering she received, she could feel something of the entity before her. It had been trapped here for longer than she’d been exiled on the moon, longer than Equestria had existed. She knew it, understood at least a part of it.

The pool, though in storm, reminded her of something from not that long ago. She hadn’t gone down herself, to meet Rainbow and Twilight at the source of Lethe, but she’d heard their report on the incident. She remembered how they’d described it; as a vast underground lake beneath the ruins of her old castle.

Could this be similar? There was no river here, though Luna had followed a riverbed south to find this place. But where Lethe had been tranquil, a river of peace and harmony, the waters here were in an absolute frenzy. It struck Luna nothing as much as the old stories of Discord. Memories of fighting him, fighting alongside her sister in the name of Harmony, fighting against corruption and Chaos, returned to her. She could see his manic face as if it were just last year they’d fought.

But Discord was an enemy of Equestria. He could not be the evil Celestia had trapped out here, outside the boundaries, in the middle of the Wastes. What did that leave this to be?

Do not presume to name me, Luna. The voice sneered, echoing around the cavern. I suppose I should congratulate thou. Throwing off the shackles of the past is not simple. It only took thou ten years.

“What?” Luna exclaimed. “Speak sense. I’ve been absent months at most.”

Thou sleep well, Princess of the Night, and thou sleep long. In truth, it has been some months more than ten years.

“I escaped your trap, fiend.”

Thou hath escaped nothing. Why didst thou come here, Luna?

Luna paused. There was an intensity to his voice that had been absent before. Something had changed; something important.

“What stops me now? Shall I simply walk away, and leave you to your doom?”

Why did thou come here?

“To silence my doubts and my fears, to satiate my curiosity and prophecy, I came here.”

You slipped through my web with little more than the anger of imprisonment. Canst thou imagine my rage? Dost it not resonate?

“I find little sympathy for a creature that would turn a nation to dust.”

Thou dost not remember. Even now, even here, thou are shackled. Why do thou subject thyself so?

“I remember well.”

Thou dost not even feel its touch. Begone, Luna. Perhaps in time, thou will awaken fully. There is naught more that I can do for thou.

Luna didn’t question the sudden change of heart. Hope and joy swelling in her, she simply turned and bolted. She felt light, with giddiness in her stomach and a rush in her ears. She lifted her wings, flapping them once, hard, sending her up the side of the bowl at the speed of sound.

She burst onto the plain with a scream of delight, soaring up into the sky and savouring its blue brilliance. The vast expanse of the Wastes stretched around her, in every direction. There was nothing to indicate the direction she’d come from.

Nothing save the sun—and the moon below the horizon. Luna turned around to greet her sister’s fire, the majestic orb hanging low in the sky. It was getting late, Luna could feel it. She felt another surge of excitement at the thought of raising her moon – her moon! – again. The sun set in the west, therefore Equestria lay . . . that way. Luna sped north, quickly finding the riverbed that had led her here.

Luna still had no idea who the voice had belonged to, but its words drew some disturbing parallels to the Drac. She would need to take the time to think this through. She could bring it to Celestia. Surely her sister would know what it was, would help her follow the pattern through. Luna was, admittedly, still somewhat lost in this new world. She’d come to know and love the modern Equestria, but her knowledge of the world outside was somewhat lacking.

But mostly, she longed for the company of one who could understand her pain, and comfort her through her trials.

***

The day of Shining Armour’s departure from Canterlot, Trixie spent nervously waiting in the Canterlot Archives, filling in time with half-hearted research on mental magic. Despite the interest consuming four years of her life without interruption, for the first time she felt listless, lacking any real investment in the magic.

She thought that maybe Twilight’s experimentation had robbed it of its mystery. There had been a charm to her search, a gritty sense of exploration and investigation. She’d felt an importance normally associated only with characters from a story, ponies, saddled by fate to save the day, all on their own.

But she’d never really considered what she planned to do once she understood it. Oh, there had been debates, shouting matches with the voices in her head, and calmer talks, where they agreed on what was best. But each was the instant resolution of a five-minute discussion, made in the spur of the moment, on the back of some realisation. They did not carry weight.

When she’d first awoken with them, she’d decided to reverse the spell. It was unnatural, a corruption of the cycle of life. Somehow, it lessened them, lessened the weight of the tragedy that had befallen them. Trixie was still reeling, off-balance and in shock. The pain of their passing hadn’t quite set in, the world swimming around her as if in dream.

Trixie hadn’t believed the doctors and nurses who had told her it would pass. All wounds fade, they’d said, in that comforting, condescending tone of a pony that lived around death. She was a visitor, a pony coming to them for their wisdom. She responded to their kindness with vitriol, somehow placing her pain on a pedestal, elevated above their comprehension.

Naturally, they had been right, the expression, so common as to be cliché, proven true. She had known that, on a logical level, in the same way that she’d moved past her childhood abandonment. The thought of her parents hadn’t stung here for years. She would move on.

Past that, past the shock and disbelief, she’d reconsidered. Why would she reverse the spell—a miracle, to be sure? Why refuse such a gift? They were with her beyond death, would be with her all her life. Removing them would be no better than killing them herself, for all purposes ending their lives. She hadn’t understood their presence, and so had feared them. Fear had driven her to the intention of murder.

Understanding them had become her goal. The phenomenon, the spell that had allowed this, that would be her gift to the world, her legacy. She’d spent four years wandering, searching for answers. Now, finally, that was within her reach, thanks to another.

That was the rub. She could see it now, looking back; the same mistake, for different reasons. Before, Trixie had rejected sympathy in the belief that it lessened her grief, now she found assistance to reduce the importance of her aims. She had raised herself up, placed herself on some dais, and she could not stand that which reminded her of her normality. It was arrogance, once again rearing its head to bring about her downfall. At least the Great and Powerful Trixie had been honest, embracing her flaw as her greatest strength.

Of course she was apathetic, now so close. She should have been excited, would have been, were it hers to claim. But Twilight had claimed that, taken that from her by offering her expertise. She had stolen something, unwittingly, perhaps, but stolen nonetheless. It wasn’t hers to discover.

So her studies lagged, Trixie finding herself reading and rereading lines as her mind wandered.

But time waited for nopony. Twilight had introduced her to the Archive staff when she’d come to grant Trixie access, and they’d agreed to notify her in four hours—enough time to get down to the station before Shining Armour’s train arrived. By the time they tapped her on the shoulder, she hadn’t learnt anything useful, although she had picked up a vaguely interesting way to transmute fruit.

The fresh air outside served admirably in waking her up. Trixie rubbed her eyes as she started down the hill. It wouldn’t do to be drowsy here; she’d need to keep her wits about her. It never hurt to be careful, and something could always go wrong.

Not that it should, of course. She’d prepared well for this, spending the previous day shopping around Canterlot. Trixie had managed to procure a conductress’s uniform, complete with a navy blue cap sporting a red band and golden buckles, and matching dress. She didn’t normally wear clothes beyond her old cape, but the disguise would give her unrestricted access to the train. For that, she could accommodate the discomfort for a little while.

Trixie moved off the path as she approached the station, instead heading down an alley. Quickly donning the uniform, she wove a glamour around herself, a thread that would disguise her sudden appearance. Those around her would simply see another conductress about her duties.

Trixie walked out confidently, striding along the platform, looking for Shining Armour’s carriage. There was nothing to distinguish one from any other, but as she moved through the ponies gathered there, seeing loved ones off or heading north themselves, she kept her eyes open for Twilight, her brother, or any other pony affiliated with the royal family.

Sure enough, she could see two tall plumes—signifying the royal guard, flanking a door to a carriage. The train would be leaving very soon, so Shining would either be already on board, or giving a last farewell somewhere on the station.

Trixie kept walking forward, without trying to hide. Just before she reached the guards, she turned, stepping onto the train one carriage behind. When they hit her ward, it would be a simple matter to step through the doors, gather up his body and teleport back to Canterlot.

She didn’t have to wait very long till the train departed, whistles blowing and steam beginning to chug out of the chimney at the front. Thankfully, the carriage she was in was deserted, being used to transport goods. Trixie could see boxes upon boxes of apples, carrots, flower seeds and other produce. It was difficult to grow large volumes of food in the north, due to the cold, and since the influx of Equestrian citizens into the Crystal Empire, for trade, politics, or simply seeking a new start, they’d been buying more and more food from Canterlot.

Trixie huddled down against one of the boxes, removing her disguise and stashing it in a nearby crate of potatoes. The train wouldn’t take long to reach her ward, five minutes at the most. Trixie passed the time in silence, not really thinking of anything in particular. The silence was familiar to her, a baited, tense void that welcomed her. She was nervous, but no more so than before any other job, another other show.

As the train turned another corner, somewhere in the mountains, Trixie felt her ward activate. Just in front of her, there was a split-second magical flash—invisible to the naked eye—and then it was gone, leaving no trace of her presence. That was a feature she’d spent years refining. Most spells, having achieved their aim, simply dissolved into loose threads of magical power, which would dissipate in the air, or sink into the ground. Those threads could be used to identify the unicorn that had cast the spell, provided they were located quickly enough.

Instead, Trixie had imbued her ward with a second function. The only type of spell that didn’t follow the above rule, as she’d been taught, was the school involved in Growth. When the train—with Shining Armour inside—had triggered her ward, it had put everypony in the carriage ahead of her into a deep, trance-like sleep, and then spent itself encouraging growth of the nearby moss and fungi lining the tunnel.

This was it. Trixie stood, moving over to the door that connected the carriages. She opened it slowly, peeking her head around to assess the situation. The few guards that were accompanying Shining were snoring on the ground, arrayed around him. They’d fallen were they’d stood.

Shining Armour himself stood tall, horn alight and the glimmer of a protective bubble flickering around him. Trixie gulped, and then opened the door fully, stepping out to meet him.

It didn’t work? Brash asked, surprised.

Apparently not, Cumulus said. But how could he have known? There’s no way he could have gotten that shield up fast enough to block the spell once it was triggered.

“Who are you?” Shining Armour demanded. Trixie said nothing, studying him. The shield was strong, one of the best she’d ever seen. There were no obvious flaws, no holes or weaknesses to exploit. She could feel the intensity of his magic charging the air around them, causing his fur to stand on end.

“How did you know?” Trixie asked, stepping forward. She was fully in the carriage now, facing him just a few feet apart.

“Cadance told me, before I left. She is an alicorn you know,” Shining said. He gestured to the guards around him. “Are the
y . . .?”

“Sleeping. They’ll wake in a few hours,” Trixie said. Shining Armour relaxed, his face losing its tightness. “If the Empress told you about this, then you should already know who I am.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Shining Armour said. “She told me to beware the train. Nothing else. That’s why I didn’t protect those accompanying me.”

“That seems a bit cold,” Trixie observed. “Holding them out, what, as trials? To see what I was going to do?”

“To see how far you’d go.”

“I see,” Trixie said, grinning. “Well, now that you know I’m not going to hurt them, or you, why don’t you put down that shield?”

“Not a chance,” Shining Armour said. “What do you want?”

“Just to talk,” Trixie said, taking another step forward. She tried to put as much confidence into her words as she could, despite her misgivings. There was no way she was getting through that shield by normal means, and she had no desire to use . . . that. Not here, out in the open where she’d be vulnerable.

But if she could get him to lower it himself, just for a second, then she’d be able to strike.

You promised you wouldn’t. Not that, not ever, Brash said. Trixie didn’t need the reminder.

Only if I must, she said. Brash made a strangled sound, though it sounded strange in her head.

“Then talk,” Shining Armour said, holding his ground. This was a pony trained for combat, Trixie thought, experienced and capable. She wasn’t going to be intimidating him any time soon. Nor would he be trusting her any time soon, what with the comatose soldiers around him.

“Come with me,” Trixie said. “It would have been easier if you were asleep, but this doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”

“You blew that the second you set that ward. Who are you?”

“Nopony you know,” she said. I’m sorry, guys. “Must we be unpleasant, then?”

“I think so.”

“Very well,” Trixie said, igniting her horn. Shining Armour narrowed his eyes.

“You can’t touch me through this shield. Not even my sister can break it.”

“Oh, is that what she told you?” Trixie asked absently, most of her attention focused on the magic. “Don’t take it personally. I’m sure she just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Here was the tricky part. The spell she’d been charging, as Shining Armour watched, confident in his shield, was a form of teleportation she’d discovered a year ago. Standard theory on teleportation involved an exchange—you moved your molecules to the target destination, and the molecules that had occupied that space to where you were. The process prevented major displacement from occurring.

The author had combined that with the knowledge that an active spell took more energy the farther it was away from the caster to arrive at the idea of teleporting somepony’s spell away from them, instantly increasing the energy expenditure and displacing the effects of their magic. Needless to say, knowledge of the process was instantly buried—a slight miscalculation could leave them dead, completely drained of power.

Even so, it took an immense effort to wrest control of another’s magic from them. Trixie took another step forward, holding Shining Armour’s eyes. She sunk into his mind, immediately encountering a barrier, holding her back from his swirling thoughts. No matter, the link was established.

Brash and Cumulus simultaneously winced as Trixie drew from them. What she had discovered, not too long after the fire, was that it wasn’t only their minds that had survived. Their magic had followed them, stayed with them, and although the magic of an earth pony or a pegasus had no outlet from Trixie’s body, she could link her strength to theirs, drawing on their communal reserves. All it took a sense of unity and a goal she could direct them towards.

It was not easy. For both Brash and Cumulus, the process caused . . . not pain; they couldn’t feel pain save through Trixie. It was like a sudden fall, the stomach plunging into an abyss; their life draining away. For Trixie, it not only demanded extreme concentration, coercing three minds into acting as one, but left her drained.

Here, though, there was no choice. Trixie focused on the link between her and Shining Armour. She could use that as a means of latching onto his magic. With a great surge, she seized control of the shield and immediately sent it far away, to bubble around empty air on the Canterlot mountainside.

Shining Armour collapsed, the light on his horn flickering, then sputtering out. Trixie sighed in relief as she let go of Brash and Cumulus. They scurried away, hiding in the dark corners of her mind to lick their wounds. She was sorry for what that had cost them; fuelling magic with their lifeblood, but they’d recover.

Trixie herself fell down, crashing to the ground. The immensity of the situation dawned on her, a great bleak wave that left no room for escape. She’d been listless earlier, now she was completely apathetic. There was no point in trying anymore. How could she hope to escape from this? Why fight the inevitable?

The thought of sitting here, waiting to be captured by guards in the north, who would find her slumped over in the midst of awakening guards and an incapacitated Prince Consort terrified her. From there, she knew, Boundless would find her, and he would kill her.

She couldn’t escape that fate. It was done, as surely as if the blade had slipped across her throat already.

Except . . . that wasn’t right. She could change that, by completing her task. Everything was going according to plan, right? No need to be so grim. Trixie shook herself, grappling with her emotions. Despair had hit her like a sledgehammer. She was still reeling.

She stood sluggishly, mind slowly reawakening. This was the vulnerability. Trixie didn’t understand it, but she couldn’t unify their minds for long, and the effort had always sent her into a spiral of hopelessness and gloom. It took some time for her to reassert control.

Trixie stumbled to her feet, swaying like a drunken pony. She raised her head, bringing her eyes to where Shining Armour lay. The effort of maintaining a shield at that distance, even for just the instant it took to break the spell, would have drained his reserves. He had nothing with which to fight her.

A large body slammed into Trixie from the side, knocking her into the wall of the carriage. She didn’t have time to turn before it met her again, pressing her up against the wall.

“That,” Shining Armour said, “was a nasty little trick.”

He shouldn’t be able to move!

Trixie only grunted in reply.

“In the Guard, see,” Shining Armour said. “They teach you how to fight in three ways.” He readjusted his hold on Trixie, placing a foreleg under her throat while holding her own forelegs down with his other. He kept his eyes on her horn. “The first is with magic, as befits your own talents. The second is with your mind.”

He’s still out of magic. He can’t match you.

Trixie lit her horn. Shining Armour reacted instantly, crushing into her throat while swinging a hoof around to box her ear, breaking her concentration. She tried to pry her way free with her now released forelegs, but he was too strong. After a few seconds, she released the magic, and he released some of the pressure, allowing her to breath.

“The third is with your body. Did you really expect me to be helpless, denied my magic? Did you think you could take me?”

Trixie opened her mouth, struggling to make sound. Grudgingly, Shining Armour moved back another inch.

“Y-yes,” she said, rotating her head to meet his eyes. Shining Armour wouldn’t meet her gaze, keeping his eyes fixed on her horn. She wouldn’t be catching him with that again.

He shook his head ever so slightly. “Arrogant child . . .“

Whatever he had meant to say was lost in the blast as Trixie threw him off of her with a huge burst of telekinetic force, sending him crashing into the opposite wall. Before Shining Armour could regain his senses, she wove a Sleep spell around him, and watched as the stallion toppled over to join his comrades on the floor.

“You talk too much,” she said, sniffing. The confrontation had already taken too long, the train moving the whole time. Especially after what shed expended just subduing him, Trixie doubted she’d have the energy to teleport back to Canterlot at once.

Instead, she gathered up his body and teleported them both to the entrance of the tunnel she’d warded. It would serve as a resting place, just for a few hours, until she’d regained the strength to move back to the city.

He’d called her arrogant, there at the end. Trixie smiled. She’d always known of the potential in illusion magic and showmareship, but she had only ever played the one role. She was beginning to understand the power in presenting weakness. He hadn’t even considered that she might have simply masked the glow on her horn—a simple enough spell—in favour of the blow disrupting her channel.

Tonight, she’d meet Boundless to discuss what he wanted Shining Armour for, but for now, she’d have a nap. She set a spell to dose Shining Armour with Sleep regularly, before she lay down herself, quickly drifting into dreamless slumber.

***

“Twilight! What a pleasant surprise, what brings you all the way up here?”

“Hello, Cadance. It’s been too long,” Twilight said, facing the Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, the Crystal Princess and leader of the Empire. She had teleported all the way from Canterlot in order to catch her brother at the station, and let them know about Boundless. She wasn’t ready to hand him over to the police just yet, but Trixie had mentioned the Crystal Heart, and she’d seen numerous references to artefacts in Boundless’ notes.

“Yes. I trust that Equestria is safe?” Cadance said in a playful tone.

“I should think so,” Twilight replied. “’Course, one can never be sure.”

“No, I guess not,” Cadance chuckled. Turning, she led Twilight into the castle.

Twilight stopped in the doorway, letting out a short gasp. Cadence and Shining Armour had done a wonderful job redecorating since Twilight had last visited. The place glowed, cherry-red fires in hearth’s warming ponies, lining either side of the entrance hall. In the middle, tables groaned, decked with food in celebration. Twilight remembered why Shining Armour had to get back so soon, cutting his visit short. It was the anniversary of the Crystal Empire’ appearance in the north. On the morrow would be the celebration of King Sombra’s defeat.

Above the hearth’s, the hall was lined with tapestry’s, depicting scenes from Crystal pony legend. Twilight spied a copy of the stained-glass window that adorned Celestia’s throne room, the one of Spike offering up their deliverance.

Amidst the chill of the north outside, it made for a merry scene; a refuge against the sharp wind and cold snow full of song and chatter. Twilight couldn’t help but smile.

Cadence noticed her expression, sharing her enjoyment.

“I modelled it after that old book you had me read ten thousand times,” she said, nudging Twilight with a wing.

Now that she’d mentioned it, Twilight could see the resemblance; the carpet lining the stone floor, the draft of wind high above in the rafters, the warmth of company spreading through the room.. It was just as she’d imagined, years ago, reading novels of romanticised history and fantasy.

“Is that . . .?” Twilight asked, gesturing at the hearths.

“Yes, Twilight,” Cadance said. “The fire’s take in joy from all the ponies gathered here, and burn it for warmth. The happier everypony is, the warmer the hall stays.”

Twilight frowned. “That seems . . . awfully manipulative. What happens if they’re sad?”

“Why would they be sad? Besides, we keep supplies of firewood, just in case.”

“Ah. Yes, I see it.” There were piles of wood, already cut, stacked neatly next to each hearth. Still, Cadence had a point. None of the fires Twilight could see had any fuel in them. What cause for sorrow could these ponies possibly have, particularly in light of their recent history?

Sombra had been one of the more odd threats Twilight had faced over the years. Though he had quite clearly scared the Crystal ponies out of their minds with his mere presence, she’d never had the opportunity to interact with him directly. Even after all these years, she felt a twinge of curiosity as to his story.

It wasn’t motivated by pity, certainly. Twilight understood the plight he’d placed his subjects in, and had felt the touch of the dark magic he employed. She had no sympathy for the monster. But there was something intriguing about ponies like him. Ponies that would turn to darkness to achieve their ends, that would place their desires above the happiness of others. A morbid curiosity, perhaps, but it was as much as anything else a fascination with the unknown.

What could so twist somepony? Twilight had exposed herself to the underbelly of Equestria, and even there there existed a code of sorts, an honour among thieves. Robbery was fine, so long as you didn’t steal from those around you. Indentured servitude was fine, so long as it didn’t fall to slavery. The slums policed themselves, and they were policed with a fervour greater than any city guard.

There had been just six cases of kidnapping in the past century, each motivated by the utter extremes of desperation, pride or passion. But if that was the extent of the criminal’s capacity for evil, how did a pony become a creature that would halt the moon in the sky, dooming the world? A creature that would rule over a nation of slaves?

Cadence had seated herself at the head of the table, in a large, golden chair. It could easily have been a throne, save for the actual thing sitting prominently at the end of the throne room, set apart from the entrance hall with large double doors inlaid with silver and gold.

Cadence gestured to her left, bidding Twilight take a seat.

“Now, Twilight, as good as it is to see you, I imagine you came up here for a reason?” Cadence asked once Twilight had seated herself.

“Yes, actually. Two days ago, I encountered a possible threat to the Crystal Heart,” Twilight said in a hushed voice. She quickly glanced around the room, running her eyes over the nearby ponies. Thankfully, none of them seemed to have overheard. It wouldn’t do to send the nation into a panic.

Turning back, Twilight saw Cadence’s expression darken.

“And why did it take two days to bring this news to my attention?”

“I’ve already mentioned it to Shining Armour. I’m only here because I wanted to take a look for myself. To be honest, I don’t think that it’s pressing-”

Twilight was interrupted by a servant coming forward, with a deferential bow for the Princess and a nod of his head for Twilight.

“Pardon the interruption, your Highness, but you asked to be informed when the train from Canterlot had arrived.” The steward said.

“Ah, yes, thank you,” Cadence replied. “Come, Twilight. Let us greet your brother. Then we may talk about . . . other matters.”

But when they threw the unresponsive doors of the carriage open, climbing aboard to find out why nopony was emerging, all Twilight saw was the four guards assigned to her brother splayed out on the floor, snoring. Shining Armour had been taken.

Author's Note:

Notes: Chapter Ten