//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: The Nyxing Hour // by Nagel Navari //------------------------------// As it turned out, Princess Celestia kept a comfortable sitting room out a concealed door just behind the throne, which she explained was for entertaining important guests. “And you’re both important guests, in your own way,” she had said, before sitting down with them around a low table at a set of cushions. It seemed that at any moment Nightfall might lose her nerve and try and flee again, or worse. But she didn’t. She did keep in constant contact with Midnight, her heart racing like a hummingbird all the way. But she didn’t run. She didn’t even look in Celestia’s direction, and she tried to stay as much behind Midnight as possible, but it was something. “You’ll have to forgive me for not devoting more time to a proper introduction,” Celestia said, the first time she had ever properly addressed Midnight. “It’s a delight to know there are kirin within Equestria’s borders again, and I would love the opportunity to learn more about your experiences here. But under the circumstances…” “I understand, princess,” she said, voice low. “I’m sure both of us are alright with you skipping that part.” It was hard to tell from her expression, but Nightfall seemed to agree. Celestia didn’t argue the point, in any case. “I am told you are aware of the actions of a cult we recently apprehended in the Everfree. The Children of Nightmare have been…” she shrugged one shoulder. “Well, the important thing is they were interrupted in the middle of a ritual. The magic they were using was… complex, and we can only guess at its true purpose.” “You’re the princess,” Midnight said, before she could stop herself. “Don’t you know more about magic than anypony in Equestria?” Celestia chuckled. “I have learned a great deal, Midnight Storm. But magic is a skill like any other. It has been many years since magic anything like this has been used in Equestria. Still, what we have been able to learn in such a short time does suggest a use for the spell, one that the appearance of ‘Nightfall’ here confirms.” “It’s something to do with Nightmare Moon, isn’t it? The one who tried to take over Equestria. But wasn’t that…” Midnight hesitated, looking away. “Wasn’t that Princess Luna? How could…” She couldn’t actually voice what she was thinking without sounding accusatory. So little had been printed about the specifics. Even if what she thought she knew was true, just accusing the princess like that… Celestia nodded, expression growing distant. At least she didn’t look upset. “My sister was not acting alone during that time. There was another being, one I believed the Elements of Harmony had destroyed entirely. I now believe I was mistaken, however.” She looked briefly down at Nightfall, who avoided her gaze more determinedly than before. You’re a tough kid. After all you’ve been through today, don’t give up now. She didn’t, and Midnight admired her spunk a little more. “The cult kidnapped my apprentice, a pony named Twilight Sparkle. They needed a pony with powerful magic, and a lingering connection to the Elements. I believed they used those threads. If they had succeeded…” Her eyes lingered on Nightfall, and this time she didn’t look away. “I believe they might have succeeded, and brought something terrible into Equestria. But the ritual was interrupted, and it’s clear they failed.” “Nightfall isn’t Nightmare Moon,” Midnight said, her voice braver than it had been yet. Definitely not a tone she should’ve taken with a princess. “No,” Celestia agreed. “I don’t think you are, Nightfall. Whatever you are, wherever you came from… I can see you must have inherited at least some of that pony’s instincts. Maybe her memories as well…” She leaned in close, horn glowing slightly. She pushed Midnight’s wing out of the way, forced the filly to look at her. Nightfall started to squirm, whimpering under the pressure. But she couldn’t look away, and Midnight was powerless to stop Celestia. “I don’t know how much you remember, ‘Nightfall.’ But I want you to know—I don’t blame you for any of it. I still remember what Nightmare Moon did. No pony your age—or any age—should have to remember those things. I suspect you do.” Nightfall started crying again—as much of a positive answer as Celestia was likely to get. “My sister will have to speak to you about some of that—she has carried the burden. But I want you to know that you didn’t do any of those things. Some very bad ponies want you to become somepony for them. You don’t have to become that pony if you don’t want to. If you would rather live peacefully in Equestria, then you have nothing to fear from me, or my sister.” For all her tolerance, for all the kindness, Midnight heard that last ‘if’ land like a weight. The princess might be tolerant, but the implication was obvious. She would not allow Nightfall to put Equestria in danger. The filly nodded once—the first time she’d ever tried to communicate with Celestia. It seemed to cost her greatly to do even that much. “I… want to be me.” Celestia’s horn stopped glowing, and she returned to her seat. “I am happy to hear that,” she said. “My first instinct is to keep you here, but… it seems like we’ll need to find another option. I think it would be better for you to have a chance to grow without a constant reminder of that other self. Canterlot isn’t the right place to have a fresh start.” “I could do it,” Midnight said, though she suspected she didn’t sound much like she was making a request. “I mean… if it was alright with you, princess. I’ve only been with her for the day, but… I think I understand Nightfall better than anypony else you could find. Except you, obviously, but…” She shook her head. Keeping the filly somewhere she was in constant terror was obviously not a good idea, even if she did grow out of these old instincts. Princess Celestia’s horn glowed again. Only this time, nothing in the room moved. Instead, the light seemed to momentarily blind her. The world dissolved, falling out from under her. Somehow, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. The warmth on her coat was like walking into a comfortable house after a long trip through the snow. When her vision came back, she wasn’t so much standing as floating, with the princess only feet away. There was nopony else around. “You’ve… moved us?” “No.” Celestia’s voice echoed strangely, sounding just slightly different than she had moments before. “I wished to speak with you privately, Midnight Storm. This contact is mental—the child will not overhear. I wanted to be certain you understood the weight of the commitment you wish to make.” The princess seemed to loom over her, the weight of her attention distorting her features for a few seconds. This spell was an imperfect radio. “I know what I’m signing up for,” Midnight said, though she didn’t sound as sure here as she wanted to. It was harder to exaggerate when they were speaking in thoughts. Celestia smiled knowingly down at her. “I would normally prefer to entrust something like this to one I knew better. This is no disrespect to you, Midnight. I have no reason to believe you are anything other than an upstanding member of Equestrian society—but the weight on your shoulders if you should fail is tremendous. It might be better for me to entrust this to somepony else. Twilight Sparkle, perhaps. You met her yourself, didn’t you? Don’t you think she could do an adequate job caring for an unusual child?” Midnight shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know, princess. Maybe she could. But I don’t think Twilight Sparkle knows what it’s like to be something strange. I don’t think she knows what it’s like to have ponies whispering about you—or to be on the run, moving from city to city the instant anyone learned you weren’t quite like them. Ponies can be cruel—I think if you want to stop Nightfall from turning into Nightmare Moon, she should be with somepony who understands that. Somepony with experience coping with it.” Celestia’s expression softened, and a little of the intensity blasting all around them faded. “After all these years, I would have expected better from Equestria.” Midnight shrugged, though she couldn’t keep a little moisture from her eyes. Much as Nightfall had done, she looked away, doing her best to stop Celestia from noticing. “That isn’t what matters to me right now. Right now, I’m thinking about the filly I rescued. She deserves to have it better than I did. I’ll admit, I don’t know everything that goes into taking care of a child. But I’d be willing to learn all that. To do whatever it took.” Princess Celestia remained silent a long time, considering her. The weight of those deep purple eyes seemed far heavier than any jeering crowd of ponies. It was so much worse when it wasn’t just her own future being decided. “It will not be a simple task,” Celestia eventually said. “I understand you’ve been living in seclusion, for instance. That will not be acceptable for the filly. She must become part of Equestrian society. That would mean relocating somewhere she could grow up around ponies.” “Ponyville,” Midnight said, without thinking. “They seemed to accept us when we passed through town.” They’d been far more accepting of Midnight than she had expected, actually. “I could move into town with her. Buy a… house or something. I’m sure I could scrounge together the bits somehow.” Celestia put a stop to her desperation before it could start. Probably because she had heard the lie. Midnight Storm was willing to do whatever it took, but that didn’t mean she actually thought she could get together the bits to buy a house in Ponyville. Not after burning through so much of her savings buying essentials while she lived as a hermit. “You underestimate the importance of this mission, Midnight. Caring for the young Alicorn would be a task entrusted to you by the Crown. I would see that you had all the bits you needed to provide young Nightfall a home there.” Again Celestia’s attention seemed to focus on her. “You must understand the weight you would be carrying, Midnight Storm. A new Alicorn in the world has the potential to do incredible harm—particularly one who has risen to power in such an unconventional way. It is far easier to plug a leaking dam than to rebuild a village after it has been washed away in the flood.” Midnight Storm nodded again. “I know. And I still want to do it.” She couldn’t get the little filly’s terrified face out of her mind. Or her bravery, in suffering through every awful thing she had today. She reminded Midnight more than a little of herself, but worse. There wasn’t a pony in Equestria more qualified to help than she was, complete lack of parenting experience notwithstanding. “There is one more threat—this one external. The royal guard is hunting the remainder of the cultists. I am not certain how many have escaped, though it seems we failed to reach most of their leaders. It is possible that if they learn of the filly, they will attempt to finish what they started. They may try to foalnap her, and who knows who else they might hurt along the way. You might be in danger.” Midnight grinned, exposing pointed teeth, and flashed the blade on the end of her tail. “Frankly, Princess, I’d like to see them try.” Celestia seemed pleased by this response, though it was hard to tell for certain. The light faded from all around them—or more accurately, the real world came back into focus. Midnight was still sitting on a cushion in Celestia’s private council chambers. Nightfall was still clinging to her leg, and half-hiding from the sun princess. “If you’re sure about this,” Celestia continued, as though only seconds had passed, “then there are a few more things you should be aware of. I would want you to live in Ponyville, and become a part of the community there.” “Fine.” Celestia went on. “I would want young Nightfall to have a conventional education. It would be best if we took steps to conceal her true nature from Ponyville’s citizens, or else she might make the wrong kinds of friends. Instead of ponies genuinely interested in her, she might get hoof-lickers who want to use her to get to the throne.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish that on anypony.” Midnight shrugged. “If that’s what you think is best, Princess.” “And one more thing,” she went on. “I would want to remain closely involved with the young filly. This would mean installing a number of agents, to provide you with anything you needed and to keep an eye out for the Nightmare cult.” “Sure,” Midnight Storm said, a little firmer than before. “I said I’d do anything, Princess Celestia. I meant it.” “In that case…” The princess rose to her hooves. “There is only one pony left to ask.” She looked down at the filly. “Midnight Storm wants to be the pony to adopt you, Nightfall. Is that what you want?” The filly nodded, more vigorously than she had earlier. Midnight felt a brief surge of warmth in her chest again, and looked away so nopony would see. “Well then. I will see that your records are put in order, Nightfall Storm. The two of you can spend the night here at the castle, then I’ll have you on the first train back tomorrow morning. That should be more than enough time to work out the details.”