During her ride to Canterlot, Midnight Storm found herself wondering if she had spent years needlessly hiding from Equestria. Had ponies secretly been completely different creatures than she imagined? Had all her experiences of early life been unfortunate coincidences?
Canterlot resolved that question for her in dramatic fashion: no.
Their group moved up through the city from the train station surrounded by jeering, frightened ponies. Midnight couldn’t imagine how these ponies might’ve reacted to her if she hadn’t had an entire detachment of royal guards to protect her, but she didn’t think it would have gone so well.
The filly, “Nightfall”, did her best to remain hidden on Midnight’s back. For all that the guard had been unable to scrounge her anything the right size to keep herself hidden, they hadn’t complained when she snatched one of the blankets from the railroad car. Even if it did a poor job covering all of Midnight’s own kirin physiology, it was enough to keep the filly from having to suffer the same stares and calls.
At least there were no angry mobs on her way up the steps to Canterlot Castle. The guards were useful for something.
She spent a few more hours wasting time in comfortable waiting rooms. The Royal Guard didn’t take her down to the dungeon, though some part of Midnight had suspected that was where this would end up. Celestia and Luna would never treat a pony so poorly, but what they didn’t know…
Despite her energy while they rode the train, Nightfall quickly fell asleep as soon as they were somewhere peaceful and quiet. Without a word, the child had tucked herself up against one of Midnight’s wings and closed her eyes.
Midnight watched her for a few minutes, checking to see that none of her bandages had come loose during the trip over, and that none of her numerous wounds were showing signs of infection. The poor child’s heartbeat eventually slowed with her breathing into a steady rhythm, one she kept for hours of well-deserved rest.
Nopony came for them, not until the sun was getting low in the single stained window. Not an escort of dozens, as some part of her had feared—just one. The pony was blue green, with an orange mane.
He snapped the door open so forcefully it sounded like it might have dented the wall. “You two. You’re coming with me,” he said, barely even peeking his head into the room. She’d seen this pony at the camp of the royal guards. It didn’t look like he had relaxed much since then.
Midnight and the filly had both been dozing on an extremely expensive couch, but she sat up immediately, glaring at him. “Can’t be that urgent. We’ve been sitting in here for hours.”
The unicorn glowered down at her, staring openly at her wings as he did so. “You have been waiting on the pleasure of the princess. The crown’s investigation is more important than anything you may’ve had planned. I’m sure the inconvenience will be minor.”
How friendly and polite you are, Midnight thought, as she nudged the filly with one hoof. Nightfall stirred only reluctantly—she had been properly asleep, after all. She blinked open one eye, then whimpered as she saw the guard standing there in full armor.
At least he wasn’t waving a spear at hem. “Are you this polite with all your guests, or only kirin?” Midnight asked, as she rose from the couch.
The guard’s only response was a frustrated grunt. “Princess Celestia has summoned you personally. Well… you and the…” judging by his expression, he went through several words before finally settling on “child. She’s already been waiting an unacceptably long time.”
“I’m coming.” Midnight nudged the filly up onto her back. Nightfall was still not anywhere near awake, her eyes glazed and movements sluggish. As rough as her last day had almost certainly been, she probably should’ve been allowed to sleep for at least the rest of the day. The more time she had to heal, the better.
But as much as Midnight thought this guard deserved some antagonizing, defying the princess was something else entirely. There were a few ponies in Equestria worth respecting.
No sooner was the filly on her back than the guard turned and stormed out the open doorway, moving so quickly that Midnight lost sight of him around the corner. She didn’t speed up—a princess wouldn’t want her to cause discomfort to a little filly who had been through what Nightfall had.
The guard had stopped in the next hallway, glaring back at her. “You did hear me, right? Princess Celestia is waiting.”
“If Princess Celestia has a problem with arriving a minute later, she can tell me when we get there,” Midnight said, her tone flat.
The rest of the trip to the throne room went pretty much that way, with the guard constantly urging her to speed up and Midnight never changing as she went. At least until she passed into the throne room, and she finally caught sight of it.
One of the consequences of avoiding Canterlot her whole life was not getting a chance to observe wonders like this in person.
The ceiling rose high enough that a fully-grown dragon could’ve stood comfortably beside her, illuminated by a stained glass visual history of Equestria. For the first time in ages, Midnight found herself feeling small.
She hadn’t even noticed the guard clearing his throat loudly, gesturing ahead of them.
“Relax, Captain Dawn,” called a voice from across the room, cutting through her awe. “She isn’t the first pony to be taken by this place. I’m sure she won’t be the last.”
The voice was unfamiliar to her, but at the same time Midnight knew exactly who it must be. Other than the guards standing at regular points along the wall with ceremonial spears, there was nopony else here but the princess.
Celestia rested atop a throne with the look of something made entirely of gold, intricately carved and set with glittering jewels. Water gurgled out from within, splashing into a fountain around the throne.
Princess Celestia was not much larger than the other ponies Midnight had known. As she crossed the room, she found the Alicorn only looked a little taller than she was. But there was a size to this pony that reached beyond merely occupying physical space.
Maybe it was the strange way her mane seemed to move, flickering in an arcane wind Midnight couldn’t feel. Maybe it was her eyes, as ancient and weary as the oldest dragons. It was the weight of significance. The eyes of fate were on this pony, and every action she took would leave ripples that echoed through time.
Midnight didn’t have to be prompted to bow, though Captain Dawn probably would’ve kicked her if she hadn’t. As she inclined her head, she felt the blanket slip from her shoulders, and the little filly with it.
Nightfall stared up at Celestia, eyes widening with abject, untempered horror. Her horn sparkled and cracked with unfocused magic, which radiated from it not like a glow but as little patches of darkness.
No spell resulted as she scrambled to her hooves, and galloped away from Celestia in mad terror.
The whole room seemed frozen—even Celestia, whose expression remained inscrutable. There was no fear there, or revulsion. But she also lacked the compassion Midnight would have expected.
“Should I retrieve her, princess?” Dawn asked, his voice flat, utterly unaffected.
The princess inclined her head slightly to Midnight, though her eyes followed the filly. Nightfall had fled behind one of the nearby pillars, where she had covered herself as best she could, shivering all over. “No, Captain. As a matter of fact, it would be best if you left. Take the rest of the guard with you. You may return when I am finished with miss Storm.”
The unicorn looked like he might argue with her. But he seemed to think better of it, because he turned sharply on his heels, leading the rest of the guards away with him out a side door and shutting it behind them.
“Princess,” Midnight said, her voice as respectful as she could make it. “Would you…” She didn’t finish the question. She couldn’t watch the filly quiver with fear without feeling the guilt. She had brought her here. In some sense, she was responsible for every bit of suffering the child went through.
She spread her wings, gliding across the throne room to land on the other side of the pillar. Less than the proper respect to demonstrate to the princess of Equestria, but just now she didn’t care.
“Hey, Nightfall.” She kept her voice down, lifting the filly’s head with one wing. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The child didn’t answer for a long time. She didn’t even open her eyes at first, and when she did, Midnight could see the betrayal there. A few echoes of anger, far away. “We need to… get away…” she squeaked, unable to look past her. “I can’t be here.”
“Why not?” Midnight dropped down in front of the filly, spreading her wings to obscure as much of the majesty of the room as she could. And the princess behind her. “Kid, there’s nowhere safer in all of Equestria. This is Princess Celestia’s throne room. She’ll be able to get you back to your family.”
Nightfall’s slitted eyes met hers, brimming with tears. “I don’t have one. All she can do is hurt me. Please… we have to get away.”
“I don’t know why I would do that,” Princess Celestia said, her voice coming from just behind her.
Midnight glanced over her shoulder, and found the princess standing there, between Nightfall and any route she might’ve had to run away. How had she gotten here so quietly?
Nightfall cowered, her voice breaking into a tearful, indistinct sob. Midnight reacted instinctively, moving close to her and covering her with one wing. She still didn’t understand what was going on, but maybe that didn’t matter.
Midnight Storm faced down the princess of Equestria.
Any fear she might’ve felt proved in vain, however. Celestia didn’t look upset, only concerned. “I have not brought you here to punish you, my little pony. Your past does not have to become your future as well.”
Nightfall whimpered again, the sound coming out more like a strangled sob than any cry of resistance.
Midnight only stared, glancing between the two of them. As she had expected, Celestia seemed to recognize this Alicorn. But what did she mean?
The answer was staring her in the face. Just across the room, Midnight Storm could see one of many stained-glass scenes. This one depicted something she remembered, though she hadn’t lived anywhere near Ponyville at the time. The night not too long ago when Nightmare Moon had taken over the world—ancient wrath that would have buried Equestria in eternal darkness were it not for the intervention of a few brave ponies. She could see them depicted in the glass, the so-called Elements of Harmony.
Midnight Storm only knew what she had read from the few news reports she’d seen from the time. Most of those had been more focused on the announcement of Princess Luna’s return.
Even so, Midnight could see a little resemblance. The same dark coat as the window, the same deep purple mane.
Celestia was still speaking. Midnight returned to reality, and didn’t try to pull away from the child. “Why is she afraid of you, Princess?” she found herself asking. Bolder than she should’ve been, probably.
Princess Celestia seemed momentarily confused, as though she hadn’t even seen Midnight standing there. “You… you both deserve an explanation,” she eventually said. “Particularly you, uh…” She hesitated, shaking her head slightly. “Well, I don’t think using the old name would be setting the right precedent.”
“I’ve been calling her Nightfall, Princess,” Midnight suggested, feeling a little braver. She wouldn’t have dreamed of acting this way around a princess hours ago, but she still hadn’t been rebuked. If only half of the royal guards were as reasonable as the princess herself.
“Nightfall,” Celestia repeated, nodding in approval. “That sounds like a wonderful new name. A name for somepony who isn’t defined by a past that isn’t really hers.”
Midnight felt the filly behind her tremble again. She heard the unmistakable sniff, felt moisture on her coat.
“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” Celestia said, voice as polite and cheerful as though this had been the way she had expected this meeting to go from the first. “I wish I had all the answers—but what our investigation has managed to uncover should make it all easier to bear.”