Princess Twilight Sparkle walked down the gangway. After two weeks of rolling seas, she was glad to step on land again. Her natural instinct was to go check in with the Manehattan harbormaster, but he was already bounding down the solid oak pier to meet her.
“Princess! I apologize for my lateness.”
“It’s fine. Good to be back. If you don't mind, sir, I'll head to the library. There are some history volumes there I have yet to read.”
“By all means, Princess. By all means. I will handle everything here. Enjoy the library!”
Twilight trotted through the streets of Manehattan, remembering the many lives lost in this very city only a year ago. The Manehattan Siege, she heard, had been extremely costly to both sides. And the one pony who'd gotten them through it - Crimson Dawn, a red Pegasus from Atlantis - had died in the final battle against Sombra. Just a couple months had passed since then, but Twilight still had vivid nightmares about it.
She shook the memory out. The central library’s large oaken doorway was directly in front of her now. She opened the double doors, treading lightly across the shiny reflective marble floor.
“How may I help you today, Princess?” The old stallion’s wrinkled coat glistened with the joy of work as he acknowledged her from his position behind the checkout counter. His light grey mane was short and cropped to the left, while his greying tail unconsciously swept from side to side. Two old, bundled bat wings were folded neatly at his side.
A thestral. Good. Twilight nodded to the librarian and trotted over to him. “Actually,” she said as she approached, “I was wondering if you could tell me something. What does the name ‘Nightmane’ mean to you?”
He straightened, stretching out his creaky back. “Nightmane? Now that is a name we haven’t heard a non-thestral say in a long, long time.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Thestral names are almost never said by normal ponies here in Equestria.”
“That’s neat. Why is that?”
“The Nightmare Moon incident a millennium ago.”
“Is there a reason you’re here in Manehattan and not with others of your kind? I’m not trying to be discriminatory, just curious.”
“Princess, my family and I have run this joint since the founding of Manehattan three hundred years ago. We wanted to prove that thestrals weren't monsters.”
“And you did.”
“And we did.” The stallion waved to another librarian, a young mare not much older than Twilight, to come. When she did, she helped him slowly walk to a special lounge chair reserved for him. He gestured for Twilight to sit, so she did in a comfortable blue lounge chair across a low table from him. “I know the Nightmane family. In fact, we Sparrowbolts are a branch of them. If you want, I've kept in touch with the branch in Summercrest. I could get you to them.”
“No, it's fine. I just came back from Atlantis.”
“I see. They knew Colonel Dawn’s family. Did he ever mention the Nightmanes? Is that why you're curious?”
“Yes.”
The mare walked up with a pitcher. “Would you like tea, Princess?”
She looked up. “Yes, thank you. And you can call me Twilight.”
She nodded. The stallion waited while she poured the hot liquid. When she glanced to him, he said, “The usual, Constellation.”
“Yes, Grandpa Starling.”
“Constellation?” Twilight asked. “That's a pretty name.”
“Thank you, Twilight. I was named after one of our ancestors from a millennium ago.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Grandpa Starling said. “Constellation Nightmane lived during the time of Nightmare Moon’s banishment. To be honest, without her, we'd not be here. Her name is so special to our family that only those who bear uncanny resemblance to her in both personality and looks can also bear the name.”
“That's amazing.” Twilight’s eyes opened wide in disbelief. “It must be an honor for you to be named such.”
“Believe me, I'll never live up to her name. Constellation Nightmane is the single greatest mare in the entire family. Well, at least according to Grandpa.” Constellation Sparrowbolt sat down after getting her grandfather his drink. “Grandpa, what is her story, exactly?”
“It's about time I told you anyway,” he replied. “This tale has been passed down for generations. Its words have never been copied onto paper, just told through word of mouth. My grandfather told me many years ago, and his to him, and so on. It starts one night about one thousand years ago…”