“It is an unfortunate fact that - due to the nature of these historical texts and the hard journey they have had in reaching us - much of these texts are lost and can only be speculated on.
Of those who were there to witness events, they can only confirm suspicions. Of the rest they shall not speak.”
-Prof. C. Scrivener, ‘On The Origin of Equestria’ preface
There were few who would join Luna in approaching the observatory of the castle. It was set apart from much of everything else, and frequented very rarely from what she had heard, but even knowing this the princess was not quite sure what to be prepared for when she entered the room.
There were shelves of books, rolls of charts, a round room lit not by light fixtures or magic but only by the gleaming of the moon and stars through a long opening in the domed ceiling, through which peered the massive and complex telescope she had seen only from outside before. Dust covered everything within, and it seemed almost as though it had been abandoned long ago in some great hurry.
Entering it with either of the guard commanders, she felt as though she were entering a ruin.
The atmosphere certainly feels ruinous, thought the alicorn with trepidation. Attuned to the unseen as she was, the room felt as though it was waiting with bated breath for what would come next.
Beside her stepped Lieutenant Halm, the unicorn’s horn flickering with a pale blue light that grew in brightness until the room began to slowly take on definition.
“Touch nothing,” he said with an even tone. He was tense, tremendously so, but he spoke with an authority and clarity deserving of his station; he was, after all, the head of investigating such things.
Behind, with the door halfway open, stood near a dozen guards waiting to know what was inside.
Princess Luna knew not what to expect, with the explanation delivered in panted breaths from a single messenger, but she knew that she would have to steel herself and move on to find what had become of her royal magister.
Even knowing what she had been told, Luna couldn’t prevent her voice from rising through to her lips, falling deadened in the air. “Mister Scrivener?”
She perceived vaguely that beside her the lieutenant was going to say something, but he didn’t. He tilted his head upwards at Luna, curiously watching. Luna couldn’t help but meet his eyes, but rather than any reassurance the guardspony only continued forwards, looking down at the floor and expecting to be followed by the alicorn and two commanders.
Luna trailed after, peering at the messiness of the room; there were books out and open on a desk or two, their pages somewhat faded from the light of who knew how many days of sun and coated in a layer of dust. From what she knew, this had been originally a part of the castle assigned to and taken care of by a single student of Celestia’s Academy:Twilight Sparkle.
She had of course not returned here in some time.
In the dim light from above Luna could see remarkably well, as could the batpony Blue Moon.
They were the first to see the shape sprawled in a corner near some shelves. Luna closed her eyes, inhaling a slow breath of air that tasted of dust, and shuddered at the half-dreamt and half-remembered iron tang of blood.
“Criminy,” gasped the batpony next to Luna.
Luna’s eyes couldn’t remain closed for long before she forced herself to take in what she could of the room. She did her best to remain stoically silent for the moment.
Canvas Scrivener, the official royal magister and a unicorn of almost a hundred years, was huddled near a shelf across the room, a black stain of glimmering wetness around him. The wet trailed behind him where he had clearly moved, marks from his hooves made visible by the glow of Halm’s hornlight showing where he had perhaps stumbled or staggered before coming to the ground to crawl.
“Your Highness,” started Blue Moon with some hesitation. “Perhaps you should…. not…. be here.”
“We do not require coddling, Commander,” Luna found herself saying, steadying herself all the same. It had been so very long since she had seen such violence. “Somepony please check him. We must know for certain.”
Tia, oh please help me, Luna thought.
After a moment, Lieutenant Halm left her side and started to make his way around the room towards the prone form, stepping around both the obvious blood and perhaps something Luna did not yet perceive.
The moving light of Halm’s horn played shadows across the room as he moved and finally knelt by the form, not seeming to even notice that he was in a puddle of blood. Calmly, with delicate practice, the unicorn leaned down and cupped his ear near the dusty-tan pony’s muzzle.
“Yes, he’s gone.”
Luna heard Commander Gleam audibly swallow.
Halm pressed his ear against the poor pony’s cheek. “Surface skin cool, rest is warm. This was recent. In the last few hours, maybe.”
“How?” whispered Luna, almost not daring to break the quiet.
“I see what seem to be some punctures. I would say perhaps bitten by something large but the wounds aren’t ragged. Multiple stab wounds? Many. A dozen at least,” the pony remarked with calm professionalism. “...I’ll need a doctor to say more.”
“Princess, we could be in danger,” said Commander Gleam suddenly, his voice quieting halfway through his statement as though realizing the volume at which he’d announced it. “I must insist that we secure you at once.”
Blue Moon nodded firmly. “Your Highness, I must agree. This area could still be-”
The telescope, Luna thought. Her eyes moved from the body along the trail, following it. Canvas was a tremendously old pony, and could barely bear to stand for long periods of time without resting on something. That he got around at all was a miracle itself.
“The telescope,” she then repeated aloud, interrupting the two ponies entreating her to leave.
“P-pardon?”
“That chair there is near the eyepiece, knocked over. He was seated.”
Lieutenant Halm’s attention rose from the body he was examining to do much as Luna had done, following the motions of scattered blood on the floor and eventually nodding himself, standing with stains of red on his armor. “Distracted while looking through it, most like.”
“...and set upon?” queried Blue Moon.
“It seems that way.”
“Princess,” continued Golden Gleam. “I must insist that we get you to safety.”
Luna was tempted. It had been a very long time since she had been exposed to such depraved violence and she could feel a tremble in her core. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to lash out in anger, to raze to the ground anything that stood between herself and justice.
She felt cold.
“Do not presume, Commander of the Dayguard, that we are of mere aristocracy,” Luna said, resolving herself. She felt that rage boiling up inside of her as it so often did and burn away the chill, and this time she didn’t shush it. “I am the Princess of the Night, Golden Gleam; if you wish to find safety you may crawl to it but I will not hide myself away while my own subject lies dead before me.”
Luna would not allow for those under her command to forget that while her elder sister was radiant and strong, the Moon Princess was no less resolved to stand against peril.
She felt as though perhaps she was lying to herself. The last that she remembered ever being in the room of a murder she had her sister beside her.
The first time she had been in such a scene, her sister had held her while she wept.
“...who must I speak to in order to have a message sent north?”
Commander Blue Moon responded after a long pause. “Canvas is the one who knows Sending. Was. I could have the Academy charged to find another to cast it, but other than this I can send a pegasus there by the end of the n-...day.” He hesitated at the last word, his eyes glancing at the star-blanketed sky through the roof.
“This is what we get for having abolished the Magicarum, Commander,” said Halm to his superior, turning and giving what almost seemed a glare.
“We haven’t had the resources or even need of the Magicarum in centuries, Ha-...” Blue Moon cleared his throat. “I apologize, Your Highness, I would prefer to not argue such things in front of you.”
Luna was intrigued, however. “Magicarum?”
Golden Gleam nodded towards Luna’s left, his eyes not leaving the body in front of them. “A subdivision of the Guard would train in the Academy directly for a time and become dedicated spellcasters of the guard. The practice ended decades ago, though some like our esteemed Shining Armor have a natural knack for certain spellwork.”
A practice, it seemed, that had come and gone during her absence. “It is something to be discussed, if it would allow for more ponies under us to know Sending for these emergencies. Shining Armor must be recalled here immediately as soon as possible. And we will need to contact Twilight Sparkle and her friends.”
“I will send messengers at once, Your H-”
“Commander Blue,” interrupted Golden Gleam forcefully. “Might I remind you that it is currently daylight hours?”
Blue Moon rounded on Golden with a glare, his tone still rather calm but his mask clearly shattered. “It is hard to say,” he said, his lips pulling back to show the prominent fangs his type tended to have. “...being as the sun has not yet risen.”
Echoing Gleam’s words back at him, clever, Luna thought. But not helpful. Where did this rivalry come from? There are more important considerations.
“Ponies,” interrupted Luna as Gleam was about to retort, which he bit back reluctantly. Blue Moon seemed pleased. “I will see to my own methods for reaching out to the two, should they not contact us by the end of the day. It is likely that Twilight herself may show within mere hours, knowing her inquisitive nature.”
“....very well, Your Highness,” said Blue Moon finally. “Princess, I am sure between the two of us,” he paused with a pointed glance at Gleam. “We can get to the bottom of this… this horrific…”
“Who was assigned to the Magister?” called Lieutenant Halm, interrupting Blue Moon’s thoughts and calling for the attention of the others in the room. The two commanders didn’t seem to understand, looking back to the unicorn looking over the scene still and gathering notes. He carried now from his pouch a notebook and pen. “His detail, the guards assigned to his room and corridor. Who are they?”
“I… well…” started Golden Gleam. “...I am afraid I will have to request the assignment sheets from Lieutenant Aegis to know for certain.”
“Four ponies would have been his detail for daylight hours, am I not correct?” asked Blue Moon, drawing out the question with a bit of uncertainty. “Where are they?”
Princess Luna felt the chill of before return and grow, the cold sweeping from her core to all the bones of her body as she heard in her head the echo of Sergeant Shale’s report not an hour ago. Her lips moved of their own volition, interrupting the response from Gleam.
“Dayguard is short by four stallions, unaccounted for…” she quoted the earlier report, the words clear as though read from a page.
Now at a rough total of ten ponies set to guard Luna’s person at the moment, it was all she could do to retreat into her own quarters and shut the door, refusing their entry.
With the discovery of the body of poor Canvas Scrivener, the call of ‘To Arms’ had now become ‘Shut The Gate’. The high-society and aristocratic sorts would not be allowed entrance to the keep itself.
The gate was barred, the balconies sealed, and all entry and exit was to be watched strictly by the posted guards.
But even sealed, besides the armor-wearing and now weapon-carrying members of the Royal Guard, the castle was home to a long list of staff. Handling the upkeep of the court, the providing of meals, the cleanup of the castle structure and maintaining of the grounds, and especially handling many of the more tedious affairs of the day-to-day running of one of the largest and most powerful nations in the civilized world took hundreds of ponies and otherwise.
Celestia, of course, knew these ponies and their positions and duties.
Luna knew very little of them.
That she knew nothing was of course inaccurate, she’d certainly call it a lie, but it was a fact that she was only ever really awake for and attended to the duties of the night. These duties of course had little to do with attending to the ponies of the nation itself and much more to do with protecting them from things many ponies had no grasp of the merest concept of.
But now, with her sister unable to attend to such things, it was clear that Luna would need to discover on her own what should be done. While at the same time worrying for her sibling’s health and the possibility of a killer in the midst of ponies in the castle.
Luna was usually of a rather carefree attitude she’d somehow kept when she shared the daylight hours, and was aware of its absence. There would be no sneaking into the kitchens to sample anything, there would be no pestering anypony with illusions.
The seriousness of the situation Canterlot Castle was in, that the country was in, weighed heavily on her like nothing else had in many years.
It was all she could do to quiet the buzzing of a million distressing things whirling in her head, audibly when her eyes were open, visibly when they were shut. Immortal as she may have been, Luna’s head was only big enough for so many thoughts and so many memories, and under stress it was hard to keep things straight.
Luna let a slow, restrained sigh escape her lips as she turned to stare at the locking bolt of her door, considering latching it to let herself have some almost-guaranteed peace, but thought better of it and left it open.
Her room remained much as she had left it before, though now her heavy balcony door was shut and locked from the inside, the night sky visible through the windows. It was dark, cold, and for once Luna felt like lighting a few candles despite being able to see perfectly well in the darkness.
She wished she could find something to comfort her, though as notions of what might do so came to her she dismissed them just a quickly.
Comfort at the moment was a delusion. No amount of light or heat or crying or shouting would solve her problems, and the firm reminder time and again of her sister telling her such throughout their history repeated in several variations.
“You can’t bring them back with tears, dear sister,” Celestia had once said to her.
Luna cried all the same, feeling her nose burn a little as blurriness crawled over her vision. She closed her eyes, squeezed them shut, let the small drops roll down her cheeks.
She didn’t know if the sensation of wetness on her cheeks now was memory or reality, but alone in her room it didn’t really matter. The cool air on the streaks felt sharp, drew her steadily back to the present.
She started across the room, though paused at the faint sound of a crackle below her hooves.
The shards of her fancy tea cup still remained scattered on the floor, untouched. It felt like days ago that she had dropped it, when it had only been several hours. The sound of it hitting the floor and her disgust at herself over having dropped it seemed a distant memory, overwritten with more important matters.
“Horsefeathers,” Luna cursed quietly all the same. She called on her magic almost reflexively, her horn flaring lightly with blue as she swept up the shards and pulled them together into a pile. She could repair it later, perhaps, but now didn’t seem the time to go delving into her old books for spells of mending.
Why did I drop it? She found herself asking, staring at the pile of shards on the floor.
Faintly, she remembered a sudden feeling having come over her, a terrible sensation. Premonition? She was more prone to such things than her sister. Could she have sensed the harm that would come to befall her dear sibling?
Could I have stopped it? She wondered. Could I have gone to her in time? Did I ask too much of her and cause her some misfortune?
Tap tap tap.
Luna jumped, shocked from her thoughts at the sharp sound of tapping on glass. She looked around, her ears perking high to find the source of the sound, but in her distraction she couldn’t tell where it had come from. Was somepony knocking at her door?
Turning to look at it she pondered, though after a moment she called out. “Are we required?”
There was a pause, and then the sound of somepony leaning against the door. “Your majesty, what was that?”
“....didst thou not knock?” Luna asked, then immediately chided herself on slipping so far into archaic mannerisms.
“Uh…. n-no, your majesty, nopony knocked.”
More quietly, from behind, Luna heard the sound once more.
Tap tap tap.
She turned, wondering at the source, and through the dim windows of her balcony doors she saw a shape moving; a shadowy figure. A pony stood on her balcony, tapping at the glass with a hoof.
A guard? Perhaps? Luna mused. There were some possibilities that made her want to answer and some that made her want to call for the guard behind her to come investigate. No. A guard would never come to my balcony.
“Princess Luna, do you need something?” asked the muffled guard at Luna’s door.
The stranger at her balcony did not knock again, nor did they leave, waiting.
Could it be that the killer of her magister had now come for her at her own balcony, knowing she was within? It seemed so very real a possibility, even as much as it seemed ludicrous. Why would a killer knock? And even if so, so far only a withered old stallion barely able to move around had fallen victim; an alicorn with all the powers of such would be no easy mark.
Even with a flutter of anxiety in the princess’ chest, she felt more curious than afraid.
“...I am well for the moment, thank you,” Luna eventually answered the guard through the door, and with that she crossed the room. Her magic flicked the lock of her balcony door open, and with some trepidation she turned the handle, pulling open the door to peer out onto the moonlit balcony.
“Hello, Princess Luna!” said a grey little pegasus, a mare with a pale yellow mane she thought seemed so very familiar. On her head was perched a little blue hat with the symbol of a flying envelope, the universal insignia of an aerial mailmare.
Luna searched her memory for a name. “H-hello,” she responded, blinking curiously. How did she get to my balcony without a patrol noticing? This castle is supposed to be secure.
“Oh!” the mare quietly gasped, lowering her voice but still not quite managing to whisper. “Oh goodness... I didn’t wake you, Princess? I know you, you know, you sleep during the day but I don’t really know if it’s day or night or…” she trailed off, ending with a grin. One of her gold eyes shifted out of place, drifting to one side.
Horsefeathers, Luna thought to herself. “Oh. No! No, I was not asleep. Excuse me but… I do not believe that... are you from Ponyville?”
“Yes!” the mare responded, her grin widening and her eye issue actually straightening out for a single blink before returning to where they had been. “My name is Muffin, but uh… friends just call me Derpy, you can call me whatever you like, Princess Luna!”
“Well then, Muffin, I-”
“Ah, on second thought,” interrupted the mare, though Luna found it hard to be mad at her for it. “...j-just Derpy will do, please! I mean, that’s what friends call me and you know, you’re kinda my favorite prin-”
With a stutter she hushed herself, deep redness suddenly spreading across her cheeks before the mare looked down.
“Well…. Thank you!” Princess Luna managed to say, unsure as to how she should respond to that kind of compliment. She’d been a favorite now and then to ponies, her Nightguard proved as much, but she often didn’t have such ponies showing up unannounced on her balcony during a castle-wide lockdown. “I apologize, miss Derpy, but is there something you needed?”
“Oh! No! No, I didn’t need anything!” the mare assured the princess, looking bashful still and sweeping off her hat with one dextrous wing, crumpling it to her chest. “Oh! No! You needed something; I have a letter for you!”
The mare retrieved from a satchel at her side not just one, but two items; an envelope and a scroll bound in red ribbon.
The latter Luna recognized immediately, snatching it up in her magic and undoing the ribbon to let it unfurl. The somewhat unique script of Spike the dragon crawled over the page, transcribing what his caretaker intended to say.
Or at least, she thought so until she got into reading it.
‘Dear Princess Luna,’ it began.
‘Twilight is beside herself worrying over what is going on with the sky right now, and she has tried to have me send a letter to Princess Celestia at least ten times now. I don’t have much fire left in me today! For some reason, every letter I send just keeps coming right back like a bad sandwich!’
So then, it was a letter from Spike the dragon himself. Derpy watched Luna curiously as she continued to silently read the letter.
‘I told Twilight to send you a letter too, and she was going to, but then she told me not to when the morning paper got here. I don’t know what’s going on, Princess, but I think Princess Celestia might be in trouble and you’re the only one I really think can let us know!’
Luna blinked and re-read the paragraph a couple times, unsure. “...the morning paper? What is this?”
“What’s that, Princess?” queried the little pegasus.
“Excuse me, miss Derpy, but what is ‘morning paper’?”
The grey mare looked confused, as though she expected Luna to have known the answer and thought she herself was being quizzed. “Oh uh… morning paper? The newspaper? They print news on these big sheets and send them to ponies. I delivered them once, but letters are way better!”
What does this morning report say that changed her mind? Luna thought to herself, rolling the letter back up and retying the ribbon. “If it is not a bother, might you happen to have one of these papers? One for Ponyville?”
“Oh…. sorry, Princess, I don’t. But you know, I think Ponyville’s paper is the same paper as the Canterlot one, we’re just a little way south, but you knew that!”
Luna gave a nod, and absently chewed at the inside of her lip. While in thought, the pegasus spread her wings, making her way into the air with a fair bit more skill than her odd eye and slight ditziness might have suggested she could.
“Welp, I gotta fly! Bye, Princess Luna, it was really nice to see you!”
“Of course, please try to take care, miss.” Luna nodded, offering a smile, and glanced down at the other letter she had been given.
It was sealed with a familiar, creamy-yellow circle of wax, and with no return address.
“M-Muffin, where did you-?” Luna started, looking up. The mailmare, however, was gone.
With some hesitation, Luna turned the new letter over in her magic, scanning the addressee entry on the front written in blue ink.
To Dearest Princess of the Moon
Most Heartfelt Greetings and Salutations
“Who could have sent this?” asked Luna to no pony at all save herself, the question coming to her lips unbidden. The paper was sturdy and lightly waxed for travel from a great distance, much like the other she had seen intended to be given to her sister, though this one felt somehow… different. “I do not correspond with anypony, that I know of.”
She peeled open the wax, withdrawing the thrice-folded letter within, and began to read.
Her heart began to beat faster.
‘Luna, my trust in others has been worn thin and I cannot send notice by any other channel. Your sister is in the gravest peril imaginable.’
“Who…?” Luna’s eye darted from top to bottom, but she saw no name. She continued to read, returning to the top.
‘Your sister is in the gravest peril imaginable. I suspect that your staff will not find a solution to her continued slumber, nor will they be able to. Many previous events have come to this, much of which only your sibling was privy to. She had not shared details with me, only bare suspicions. This has been no accident.’
Grave peril? From whom? From what? To what end? Luna could find no explanation, save perhaps to suspect some shadowy creature such as Chrysalis the shapechanger had some plot for her sibling. After all, she had already attacked Canterlot once.
‘I cannot meet with you. I can only barely send letters to you. I have no time to teach you the codes that your sister taught me. Hesitate to trust your staff, your guard, or your people until such time as this ordeal has ended. Devious intent is bent against you.’
Luna, for all her thinking, could not imagine who may have written this letter. There were many strange and secret things her sister and herself both did, business that being a ruler of a country made mandatory, and many of these affairs they did not pry into in regards to each other.
Starswirl the Bearded, the magister in the castle a thousand years before, had sometimes used code to communicate to Celestia… but Luna shamefully admitted to herself that she had much of her memory of that particular time clouded by her jealousy of her sister’s respect and power.
There were agents within other nations, silent watchers in the dark places of the world, and even agents within the Castle that would report strange happenings by the authority of the Princesses.
But now, a thousand years since she last ruled, she knew of none.
Luna continued to read.
‘The courier I use to send these letters can be trusted; she is gold-hearted and innocent. And a fan of you, no less. I must warn you against reaching out to me, for doing so may alert those bent against you.
‘I will send more when I have come to know more, and I give you my deepest sympathies for the situation you find yourself in. These are truly historic occurrences, and even now you are being judged. I cannot simply expect you to trust in me with no name or face, but I am and have always been a friend of your family.’
My family? Luna echoed curiously. Judged?
‘Commit what you must from this letter to memory, and when you have no need of it any longer, say aloud these words: I am well-informed.
‘PS: I hope you read the morning paper.’
Again, this paper was mentioned. Was this from Twilight? But the wording was not quite like that of the young unicorn. It was too cryptic, frustratingly so, and Twilight was straightforward with little wit for secrecy at times.
Princess Luna read over the letter several more times, finding nothing more of note. It seemed that all she knew from this was that there was suspicion of some dark plot or even betrayal, a suspicion she did not even know could be trusted from a source she knew nothing of.
“...I am…. well… informed?” Luna said experimentally, almost in a whisper, as the letter had said to do when she was done.
Nothing happened.
She cleared her throat. “I am well-informed,” she said more decisively.
Harsh light flared in front of her, and with a gasp Luna dropped the sheet from her magic, stepping back as the page grew brilliant white and then suddenly went out, fluttering ashes crumbling and drifting to the floor.
The letter self-destructed with a code phrase. Fascinating. Luna thought, catching her breath and glancing towards the door. So then, whoever it is must be some sort of mage, perhaps? An enchanter? Twilight would know such spells without any doubt. Starswirl certainly did.
So too, Luna thought grimly, did Canvas Scrivener.
A plot? Betrayal? The possibility danced in her head as she stared down at the scattering of ashes on the floor. Who would even want to do such a thing? Celestia herself had made enemies in her time as the primary regent, but Luna had not had time to make her own enemies. That she knew of. Certainly there were foes to be faced. Great creatures like Sombra, Discord, Chrysalis, the terrible Tirek…
Who of these could have planted agents within her own castle that she must distrust those within?
Tirek had difficulty with minions, and he was safely locked away. Discord had no use for minions or agents, he had little in the way of planning, and she was also sure he was, too, safely locked away. Sombra was presumably deceased.
This left Chrysalis.
Luna seemed more sure the more she thought about it: Chrysalis was a schemer, a betrayer, a planter of agents and one who had every reason to want to strike down the two regents both for her own plans and for vengeance.
“Chrysalis, you heartless wretch,” Luna found herself saying. Within her she felt the hot ember of her anger flare and grow, and threaten to burst. Of all the powerful foes she and her sister had made, the most cunning and cruel at times was the queen of the shapeshifting Changeling race. She was also, by far, the most recent enemy of the Diarchy.
Luna trembled, realizing her magic had been called upon, and what more that she had lifted one small dresser in her magical grasp, hauling it into the air. The furnishing weighed easily twice what she did, but such a weight was of little consequence to her bursting anger. She had been, lashing out in her rage, about to smash the object on the floor; the dresser wobbled in the air rather dangerously.
“You child,” Luna said in a whisper to herself, harshly chiding. “...a princess doesn’t throw a tantrum. I’ll just… set this down.” Carefully, she did just that, placing the heavy dresser where it had once sat.
On the floor rested her tiara, having slid off the top of the furnishing when she raised it. Luna hesitantly scooped it up, perching it on her head and nudging it into place, hoping she hadn’t damaged it.
Can I trust this pony who sent the letter? Luna asked herself. She wished she could ask her sister, but unfortunately that was not quite possible. Asking me to distrust my closest aides, my own guards? To assume that we are beset by those within our own castle?
Hundreds of ponies lived within the castle itself, she knew. Her guard, direct aides, kitchen staff, janitorial ponies, architects, treasury agents, diplomatic support staff, ambassadorial staff… the list went on and on beyond her ability to remember all of the forms and functions, a network of bureaucracy that kept the city and the nation from falling apart.
Almost all of these remained in the castle at that very moment, she knew. Could she single out those she could trust among the many?
She could search the dreams of those who slept, but even as an alicorn who watched over such not all things were plain to her in such places. Dreams were the domain of the dreamer and the things that were dreamed of, and even intruding upon them could shed little light or offer little truth.
She doubted that those who would conspire against her sister would come forward if accused. They would lie, they would fall into the background, they would know that they had been found out. In the night they would vanish, untouchable.
A faint breeze from the still-open door to her balcony caught her attention, and she frowned as she nudged it shut, sliding the bolt closed to lock it once more.
What does the newspaper say? Luna asked herself. A report sent to ponies of the nation, like a flyer or a decree, but this morning’s held even more importance. Depending on when it was made, it could have reassurances to the ponies of the city about the recent events. She had a pony assigned to public relations, didn’t she?
Luna had to find a newspaper.
Dropping the empty envelope and letter from Spike on the chest at the end of her bed, the princess made towards her door. Giving it a tug, she found that the bolt was slid into a locked position. She didn’t remember having locked it. It was strange, but even so she only slid open the bolt, pulling the door open again to peer out into the hall.
Her bedchamber was on a hallway that met at a corner of the castle, the floor outside smooth stone but with a long blue carpet extending along the full length, wide enough for two ponies to walk alongside each other on it. Other doors branched off of this hallway to other private chambers of the princess’, such as her private study, a bathroom, and so on.
Where Celestia had three guards during her waking hours and no fewer than two servants… aides, Luna corrected herself… Luna’s room usually had only a single guard to watch her door and turn away any unwanted visitors.
At the moment her chamber hallway was lined with ponies, five to each side and one more right by the door, all in the golden armor of the Dayguard. Traditionally, as their names implied, the Dayguard operated strictly in the daylight hours and the Nightguard when the sun had set; under normal circumstances, however, her chambers were only ever patrolled by the latter. In this case it seemed not.
“Princess?” asked the white-coated unicorn next to her door, looking up at her patiently… but with concern. “Everything alright?”
Not even our own guard can be trusted? Luna asked herself, wondering. “Oh, yes,” she responded, giving an attempt at a smile. “I was wondering… would any of you know where to find the morning paper?”
The guard glanced towards his nearest companion before answering, looking a bit confused. “Uh… normally we get a few dozen copies in the notary public office,” he answered. “The castle’s sealed though, so I don’t think they would have been delivered.”
“They are not made within the castle?”
“Oh, no Princess. They’re printed in the town by Neighborhood News, we just have them delivered.”
The paper wasn’t an official document? She was so used to the issuing of royal decree from the castle she hadn’t considered that this morning paper might be a citizen’s work. “Where might I obtain one?”
“I… we could send a pony out to get one for you from the stand in the courtyard, but they charge a half-bit…”
Why would it be her concern how much they cost? Luna could likely call upon the treasury if need be, if she didn’t simply acquire a paper by sheer authority. “Hm, we shall see to it ourselves,” she said finally, officially. The guard, or guards in this case, straightened up. “... thank you.”
“Princess, we can’t just let you-”
“You cannot let us?” Luna queried almost without thinking, the guard going quiet. Luna drew herself up higher, taller than the stallion by a decent margin.
Even though Luna was most closely associated with her smaller Nightguard, the Royal Guard of the daylight hours were just as much under her authority as the former. In her head she saw the words on the letter from just moments ago, calling on her to treat her own guards with suspicion.
It took the stallion more than a few seconds to find his voice again, shuffling. “Far be it from me to tell y-your Highness where she can or cannot go!” he managed eventually, taking a less casual tone. “But your Highness could well be in danger, even within the castle and possibly more without.”
It was more than a fair point, Luna reasoned, but she detested the idea of being chaperoned like a foal. Even in these circumstances. And she most certainly detested the mere inkling that she might be told by somepony under her authority to not do or say as she saw fit.
The thought of being spied on by these Dayguard crossed her mind.
“Your concern for our well-being is noted,” Luna finally said, frowning. “Your princess can more than take care of herself on an errand.”
The guard was silent, seeming unsure as to how to handle this, but eventually nodded. “Of course, as you wish. The front courtyard of the castle, outside the gate, has a stand that sells them.”
Princess Luna left the castle from her balcony, with two guards watching after her on the next balcony over from her private study, not able to see her bedchamber from their position but able to watch as she circled lower from the castle.
The air was unusually cold, even for what seemed to be night, and the familiar stars above in their well-known constellations felt strangely unwelcoming. They weren’t to be visible for many hours yet, she knew, but yet here they were.
Circling the tall spires of the castle, she saw a field of glimmering lights below in Canterlot town, the streetlamps casting a warm glow from the roads. Windows gleamed, and below she heard the murmur of activity. More than usual at night, but of course it was supposed to be daylight.
Ponies trying to continue their routines, wondering what was happening.
I’ll issue a statement, Luna thought to herself. I’ve never done that before. But my ponies need to know what is happening, and that it will be fixed. I hope.
Luna wouldn’t be reaching the town itself; the road from there looped upwards along an incline to the castle itself, spreading into a wide, stone-cobbled courtyard with its own walls besides. This courtyard would bustle with activity, with the coming and going of ponies from the castle for court or to request things from the notary public.
The courtyard was very strangely quiet.
As the princess flared her wide wings, slowing her descent, she was aware of others watching her. Guards posted on the walls or spires, silently following her movements when they recognized her. Less than a dozen ponies in the courtyard following her with their gaze.
Luna knew she should feel safe, so carefully observed.
She did not.
The moon princess found the largest gathering of ponies, still fewer than there should be, gathered near the stall she had been told would be set up near to the courtyard’s entry, stacked with large, folded sheets of paper with black lettering across them. She was aware of the ponies moving aside to let her by with more haste than she felt needed.
The attending pony at the stall said nothing as she used her magic to scoop up a newspaper from the top of the stacks, pulling it up to read the front.
Luna recognized the picture: a hastily-taken image of herself in Celestia’s room, her face showing disappointment as she addressed the guards in front of her. The picture taken by the pony in the hallways not a few hours before, already on a page.
The headline made her heart sink.
Her Majesty Celestia Struck Down
Equestria Quails Under Nightmare Moon