Chapter 1-
“Pull in the mainsail!” he screamed. “There’s too much win—”
The stallion, brown and drenched in saltwater, was interrupted by a concussive clap of thunder.
“I’m trying, dad! But the boat’s rocking too much!” the younger unicorn sputtered.
“Then we have to cut it loose, lest we go under. Get my axe!” And with that the younger pony rushed for the small hatch situated in the back of the boat, all the while struggling to maintain his balance on the wet surface.
It was supposed to be a day trip, nothing unusual, just a routine fishing haul. They couldn’t have been more than fifty miles offshore, and everything had been going well.
But then the storm had arrived.
It was easily the worst that Saltyspray had seen. Waves that pushed his thirty feet fishing boat around like it was made of paper, and lighting that hit the sea in explosive blasts that made magical cannon fire look docile. It had descended upon them in seconds, something that completely baffled the old sea-pony. Never in his entire career had he seen something so catastrophically spontaneous. And that wasn’t to mention the darkness.
Five minutes ago it was midday, bright and sunny. But now he could hardly see the front of his ship, let alone the massive waves. It was only when lighting was assaulting the sea that he could truly spy a reliable image of his surroundings, and every time he did, the pit in his stomach seemed to grow deeper.
They had to have drifted, he knew that much, but this was a problem for another time. Right now all that mattered was getting rid of the mainsail. It was catching on the wind, violently. A few times now they had nearly capsized and it was just a matter of time before it tipped a little too far.
“Here, dad!” His son, a tan young unicorn, had returned, axe held firmly in his magic.
Salty took it and immediately made for the mast. He had extra canvas, and rope was not in short supply. But even still it felt sinful to mutilate his own ship. ‘I don't have time to consider this,’ he thought, nearly losing his balance.
He slammed into the mast, clinging to it for support, axe still held in hoof. ‘It's now or never!’ he thought as the weapon was raised above his head. There was a dull thud, and the familiar sound of rope screaming through a pulley as the sail was cut free.
The boat calmed, albeit only a little, as it was freed from the forces of the sky. But the ship still shook. This made no sense, the boat was small enough that it should float over the dark water like a leaf. And the keel was more than long enough to ensure some stability, so why were they rocking so violently? Panic started to worm its way into the old stallion’s heart. That was the last resort! There wasn’t anything else to be done but sit down and pray.
He looked to his son, he was clinging to the side of the boat, desperately. His once bright red mane was now darkened by the seawater. It clung to his face, a face that spoke of the fear of the sea, eyes reflecting the divine radiance produced by the storm’s lightning.
He turned away from his child and looked to the horizon, hoping beyond hope that something would happen, that some solution would present itself. But what he saw set his hopes ablaze with grief. On the very edge of his vision, he could see it. A wave. A monstrous wave. It looked like an inky black mountain, slowly and silently creeping towards its unsuspecting prey. The wind calmed, and the water around the boat seemed to grow still as it approached.
All Salty could do was sit and watch as it consumed the horizon, a look of terror on his face.
“It worked! Dad, we’re saved!” his son screamed over the wind. Relief had trickled onto his face, something that made the old stallion’s heart break.
“Get below deck,” he had returned his gaze back onto his son, “Get below deck, now!” The hell wave was closing in. It had already begun to crest, the only hope for survival was to get down and inside the boat.
He got a confused expression from his son, something that made the stallion burn with anger. “Look behind you, boy!” he screamed, throwing a hoof into the air behind his child. He turned, backing up a little upon realization.
“We’re going to die!” he screamed. Panic had clearly seized him and now the poor creature was rooted to the spot.
Salty let go of the mast. He began to run for his son, hoping to grab him and throw the poor colt below deck. The boat was still slippery and, despite the monster that sat on the horizon, sucking up all the sea water, waves still assaulted their boat. But the colt’s father was experienced. He had more than earned his sea legs and was easily able to reach his son in time. Grabbing the child, he shoved him into the open hatch.
The boat began to tilt back. They were on the wave’s doorstep, slowly rising up the steepening monster. Salty had followed his son into the hatch, the only thing left to do was close the porthole and strap themselves in. He turned and grabbed the flimsy wooden door, hoof slipping on the wet surface. But before he could pull it shut, he paused. There, in the water, a light was shining. A pale, silver blue, easily distinguishable against the jet black water.
It was beautiful.
“Close the door, dad!”
Behind him, he could hear his child pleading. But the light, he couldn’t look away. It had encompassed him. And even now, as he struggled to stand on the near vertical angle the wave held them on, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, just over the edge of the boat.
‘You suffer,’ it whispered. A voice in his head, something made from the softest silks. It was a sound that ran like clear cold water over his whole body. He was still lost in thought when the dark water rose from the ocean, like a meaty claw, and grabbed the unsuspecting stallion.
There was a gurgling scream as the dark water began to tug on the poor pony’s head, violently. Despite the noisy sea, the sounds of scrambling hooves could be heard, desperately trying to gain a hold on the sea stained wood. Behind him, paying witness to the horrible sight, Salty’s son simply screamed. He pleaded for his father, unable to move for fear of joining the unlucky soul.
But the stallion could not breathe, and all too soon his fighting began to grow weak. There was a loud crack as the undulating water finally gained the upper hand. He went limp. His son simply stared, in petrified horror, at the sight before him. Not knowing whether to cry or hide. Slowly the corpse of Saltyspray was pulled out of the doorframe and, right as the boat began to flip back on itself, it quietly entered the realm of the sea.
The next moments were filled with the sounds of screams, and whirling wind as the boat fell off the cliff of water and was subsequently reunited with the sea. There was a sharp snap of wood and, with the resolute crackling of thunder, the screaming stopped.
~
In her chambers at the Castle of the Two Sisters, Luna woke with bleary eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping, she was much too busy nowadays to be doing that. She had been dream walking. And despite what her sister thought, dream walking was not as relaxing as it seemed. Not when she was dealing with nightmare the likes of that one. Every night she would enter the dreamscape tired and sleepy, and every night she would leave just as exhausted as when she had started. ‘It might look like sleeping,’ she thought, ‘but it doesn't feel like it.’
Blinking the blurriness out of her eyes, she took note of her surroundings. Luna’s chambers were modest compared to her sister’s, but they were still something to be marveled at nonetheless. They were situated in the northern tower boasting a small, but eloquent, balcony. One that looked over the gentle southern mountains of her kingdom. From the balcony, situated behind her, and through the filter of newly fallen snow, streamed the silver light of her moon. It quietly illuminated her bedchambers, giving her home an almost dreamlike appearance.
The light trickled past her door frame, like a gentle creek, reflecting off and over the white marble floor. She was a classical creature, preferring to keep her chambers organized and orderly rather than frilly and overly ordained.
Function over form.
Because of this, her quarters might be seen by some as uninteresting. Her ceiling had the same baroque molding as the rest of the palace, and were it not for the many tall windows and accompanying curtains, the likes of which were very heavy, one could not be faulted for thinking it to be nothing more than simply undecorated.
The exception to her rule, however, was a large and ornate painting. It stood out against the unadorned walls and windows, a depiction of her starry night, created by an old painter she had met nearly a hundred years ago. It hung directly opposite Luna’s position on the bed, right above the large embossed double doors that marked her passageway out and into the castle below. All in all, the chamber wasn’t too different from the royal throne room, albeit hers was certainly smaller and a bit less rectangular in shape.
There was a huff of frustration as Luna made her mood known, her breath dancing in the silver light as the sound echoed up and into the air. The nightmares were getting worse, and she was getting no closer to finding their origin.
Terrible, they were. The worst she had seen in a century. And every time she came close to finding their master, it expelled itself from the dreamscape as quick as a thought. She had been spending every moment she could, trying to solve the riddle of the nightmare streak. But nothing was making any sense.
Usually, these sorts of problems were grounded in the waking world and they always had a pattern. A frightened colt or filly, scared of the monster in their closet, would perhaps dream up such a creature into existence. Always the same monster, and always an easy fix. Or, in rare cases, it was the occasional adult stressed beyond their limit, so much so that they entered a depression, something Luna was more than happy to ease.
But these nightmares only had one thing in common, and the pattern wasn’t painting a pretty picture. All signs pointed towards another dream walker. She had, in her many years of experience, seen things like this before. Never a simple pony, of course. The only creatures capable of existing within, let alone manipulating, the dream world would have had to have been immortal. Even King Sombra, a terrible creature, could only survive in her world as a wispy shadow, completely harmless.
But this thing, whatever it was, was not only able to move freely in her domain. It could fight her. A lesson she had learned but a moment ago. She was about to reach down, onto that poor ponies’ fishing boat, and pull them both to safety. But it had stopped her.
She slowly sat up, bringing a hoof to her temple and gently began to rub her head. This was bad, things shouldn’t be able to contend with her in the unconscious mind. In the waking world, Luna was a force to be reckoned with. A reputation that she earned through years of bloody warfare. But within the dreamscape, she was so much more. All powerful, omnipresent and all-seeing. She could bring down mountains with a twitch of her tail, and create them just as fast. She could sniff out lies as easy as she could see her own hooves, the unspoken rule of her world was simple. She held all the cards. Yet somehow this creature had gained power. In all her time as the steward of sleep, Luna had never come across anything that could check her in battle.
This was new.
She was deep in thought, pondering the many problems that now rested on her weary shoulders, when there came a quiet knock at her door. For a moment she merely looked at its source, still lost in her own mind. And for the scant visage of maybe a minute, she could have sworn that there wasn’t even a sound at all. But Luna knew better.
The knock came again, this time a bit louder, and this time Luna chose to answer.
“Enter,” she breathed.
There was a cold click as the heavy wooden doors were pushed open. Yellow torchlight washed into the room, dancing wildly in the darkness. It stood out among her moonlight, like a carpet on the marble, something that amused Luna. She could have stared into the firelight for hours, pondering its many secrets. But alas, she was a princess, and her time was already spread thin.
Oh, how she wished for the days when she was but a young and ignorant filly. When she was without the heavy burden of godhood and could pass through the streets unmolested. Dreams, they were, of a different time. A time that had been stolen from her. At that, she scowled. It had been centuries since Luna had thought of her father, and longer still since she had seen him.
“Your Majesty,” a voice, tentative and hushed, echoed out and into her hall, “the princess has requested your presence.” The guard was clearly uncomfortable. His golden armor marked the stallion as her sister’s. It was reflecting the torchlight brilliantly, making it impossible to miss.
Judging from the sleep that still clung to his eyes, she ventured a guess. Ever so quietly, Luna spoke, “Broadsword, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I see you got stuck with morning duty.” She gave him a hearty smile, though she knew he couldn’t see it.
He replied, “Yes, Your Majesty. And I must say, your stars were most beautiful tonight.” He too was smiling now.
Luna sparkled with joy. She always received compliments on her night sky, at least from her own nocturnal guards. So to hear it from the lips of a solar guardspony was indeed a welcomed surprise.
“Thank you, Broadsword. You may inform my sister that I will arrive shortly.” The stallion gave her a polite bow, and exited her chambers, closing the heavy wooden doors behind him.
Once the coast was clear, Luna dropped her smile and resumed her fretting. No need to worry the guards, they couldn’t help anyway. Celestia, on the other hoof, might need to know about this. She chewed her bottom lip as Luna rose from her bed and began to walk to a small trunk situated at the end of her bed frame. Her hoofsteps echoed across the empty room, as her shadow silently mimicked the actions of its master, looking akin to a phantom in the night.
Within the trunk, neatly arranged, lay her metal shoes and tiara, among other things, which she quietly dressed herself with. All the while she was thinking. Her sister already knew about the nightmares, Luna had been sure to keep her updated on everything she did within her realm. But the problem was clearly bigger than she had first anticipated. Even still, was it worth worrying her sister? To tell Celestia would be a cry for help, one that could not be answered. She wasn’t capable of wandering the dream realm. And if she knew, she could make things worse.
Luna had reached the door now, it was cool within the glow of her magic as she pushed it open. It creaked a loud groan of discontent as it moved under her will. She would have to remember to oil the hinges sometime soon, or at least to get somepony else to do it for her.
She pushed past the old doors and into the hallway beyond. It was dark, as to be expected, and bore a long red carpet upon its marble floor. One that ran the length of its perceivable area. Many doors and door frames sat upon its walls, all of which Luna ignored as she made her way to the main keep. She was in the northern tower, otherwise known as the Lunar tower. It served as her quarters, workrooms, throne room, or anything else that Luna might find herself needing.
Celestia had a similar space located in the eastern tower, to fall in line with the rising sun. Though hers was far more detailed. When they were building their castle, the two sisters had known Celestia would receive most of the traffic as far as the government went, owing both to the fact that she was actually awake during the day, and that she had wanted the job to begin with. So, to account for this, the sisters had designed the eastern tower for just that purpose. High ceilings, embossed with the finest of carvings. Large doors and many windows. The place was more of a public office than a private home.
That was something that Luna had always been grateful for. She, despite the enervations of the job, had gotten the night shift. No angry nobles to sit and pester away her time, and no random civilians stumbling into her private chambers. Her hours were spent with the company she wanted to keep, unlike her sister.
She rounded a corner, passing a bust of the recently deceased Star Swirl the Bearded. It had been three years now, but Luna still missed the old stallion. It was rare to find a true friend among the masses and she hadn’t been that close to anypony other than her sister in ages. She was so lost in her remembrances that Luna might’ve ran into the door, had she not spotted it in time. She pushed through it and into the room beyond.
Inside sat Celestia. She was eating a large plate of steaming pancakes, drizzled in a clear amber syrup that made Luna’s mouth water. Without looking up, her sister spoke, “Good morning, Lulu. You’re almost late, you know?”
“Yes yes, but here I am anyway,” she answered.
Luna sat down at the breakfast table. It was large enough to comfortably seat seven or so ponies, but they had stretched that number before. Around them lay their private dining room, as well as a small hearth in which a hearty fire crackled. This dining room was smaller than the one they used for state functions, but like most things in the castle, it put the normal household to shame. Her food was sitting on the table, thankfully her sister had already taken care of that. She began to eat.
This was the normal schedule. Celestia would wake before sunrise, and together they would move their respective heavenly bodies. Then Luna would sleep, wake just before moonrise, and repeat the process in reverse. They would chat about their day, fill the other in on important information, and otherwise simply enjoy each other’s company. The time was about six in the morning, the sun coming up late in winter.
“I hope you’re in the mood for daffodils, I tried to keep it simple just in case.” There was a tired look upon Celestia’s face. Despite being the Princess of the Sun, she had never really been a morning pony.
“Daffodils are wonderful, dear sister, thank you,” Luna spoke through a mouthful of warm bread and flowers. It was delicious, everything from the royal kitchen was.
“Good,” Celestia rubbed her temples, “by the way, is there anything you can do about these headaches? I’ve been getting them these past few weeks, every morning. They’re starting to get on my nerves.”
Luna chewed on her dinner, giving her sister a deadpan expression. Swallowing, she said, “If you would stop reading those ridiculous romance novels so late into the night, you might find an improvement. The strain on your eyes can’t be good for you.”
Celestia began to cough, hard. And her sister only smiled as she continued,” Although, I do know how much you care for them. I hadn’t the faintest idea you were so passionate. What was his name,” she cooed, “Brave Muscles?”
Through ragged breath, the now very awake Celestia spoke, “How do you know about that?!”
Luna merely cast her sister a sideways glance, hardly looking up from her food. “I took the liberty of entering your dreams last night,” she began to roll her eyes, “and the night before that, and the one before that.” She punctuated each statement with a gentle wave of her now half eaten sandwich.
Celestia, for her part, had managed to get her breathing back under control. She glared daggers at her sister, now having completely forgotten her breakfast.
“Could you pass the salt?”
A flash of magic, a quick gasp, and in the blink of an eye the far corner of the room was covered in salt and broken glass. Luna peeked her head out from under the marble table, only long enough to see her sister’s pink mane smoldering at its tips.
“You pest!” she cried, lobbing her fork towards Luna. She dogged it, though it did get a little close for her liking.
Underneath the table, Luna was giggling uncontrollably. Her sister’s reaction was far better than she had anticipated, rendering her a joyous ball of dark blue fur. “Oh relax, sister! I promise I won’t tell anypony!”
“That doesn’t make it better!” She whined. “Nothing is safe around you!”
This sent Luna into another bout of giggles, in between breaths she was able to say, “You kept calling him da—OW!”
“Not. Another. WORD!” Celestia hissed. In her magic, she held a pitcher of water. It was clearly made of metal and was clearly very heavy. “Or else…”
“Okay, fine! We don’t have to talk about your fantasies if you don’t like. So long as you promise not to hit me, that is.” When her words went uncontested, Luna hesitantly rose from under the table and back into her chair. Eyeing her sister warily, she slowly resumed eating her dinner. The next few minutes were silent, the only sound being that of polite shuffling and the muffled clank of silverware. Eventually, however, the quiet was broken.
“Did anything important happen tonight?”
Luna slowed her eating. She had forgotten about the nightmares, owing to Celestia’s wonderful reaction. But now the lesser light was once again plagued with unsettling events. Her expression began to fall.
“Sister?”
Luna snapped back into focus. This was something that Celestia did not need to know. Luna was a princess too, and she was capable of solving her own problems. Acting almost on instinct, she made a hasty decision.
“Oh sorry, something did happen last night.”
“Oh?” the white alicorn queried.
“Yes. Night court was something of a bother.” The best lies are masked with the truth. “Do you remember our sister, Nightlight, wasn’t it? The one we adopted into the family back before Discord.”
“Of course, but she died some ten thousand years ago. Why do you ask?” Celestia seemed a bit confused. They hardly ever talked about life before Equestria and even then it wasn’t the most pleasant of topics to discuss.
Luna buried her head into her hooves and spoke through a labored tone, “Well, apparently she married before she died.”
Celestia was stopped dead. “What? When? And why didn’t we know about it?”
“I do not know nor will I pretend to. However, this last night I was presented a signed marriage certificate.”
“Well,” Celestia was still dumbstruck, “that can’t be that ba—“
“By Lord Blueblood.”
Luna could feel her sisters dread from across the room.
“Is he—”
“That ‘creature’,” she spat the word off her tongue like a bad apple core, “claims to be of royal blood. He wants a wing in the castle, and to be crowned as a ruler of Equestria!”
Celestia shivered. “We can’t let that happen.”
Luna lifted her head from her hooves and looked unto her sister. “Yes, which is why I told him to come back today. So that he may speak to you about it.”
“You dumped him on me!? Why?!” she cried, a hint of panic laced in her tone.
“Because you, sister of mine,” she pointed a fork down the table, “are much better at dealing with the nobles than I am! You know what I would do if I could have my way!”
Celestia slumped back into her chair. Crossing her front legs, she said, “We can’t just get rid of them.”
“Yes, actually, we could.”
“No,” Celestia said, punctuating the statement with a wave of her hooves. “We cannot. I’m not about to strip them of all they are just to be called out as a tyrant and have to give it back. Doing something like that might spark a rebellion, you know how those ponies are, they’re always plotting something!”
From across the table Luna could see her sister’s gaze soften, if only a little.
“We beat them by playing their game. We play it better than them, we get to keep on ruling the kingdom and by extension helping our ponies.”
Seeing her opportunity, Luna jumped in, “And you are much better at that game than I am! Therefore I bestow upon you the privilege of dealing with our ‘cousin’ Lord Blueblood!” Her mock smile couldn’t have fooled a fence post. “Anyway, I think it’s time I lowered the moon. Good day, sister!”
“Wait!”
But before Celestia could stop her, there was a bright flash of pale blue followed by a quiet ‘pop’. Where Luna once sat was now merely an empty space, the only evidence of its former occupant being that of a half-eaten rose and daffodil sandwich.
She was about to get up and follow her sister’s lead when there came a loud and frantic knocking at the doors. She paused, looking behind her, she answered without thinking, “Yes? What is it?”
The door opened to reveal one of the castle maids, she was sweating and looked to have been running. Through her labored breathing, she squeaked, “I’m sorry, Princess, but he wouldn’t—”
“Oh cousin!” came the sing-song voice from hell. “Where is my dearest cousin! I have some important family business to discuss! Now that I’m royalty!”
Celestia’s left eye twitched, her back right hoof stiffened. ‘It’s okay, Celestia, he is only a pony,’ she thought.
“Did you know that griffon royalty marry their siblings?” his voice echoed from somewhere down the hall. “We should talk about that! Keep the bloodlines pure and what not!”
Celestia shrank back. “Please inform Lord Blueblood that I am busy raising the sun and would be happy to speak to him later today.” Once again the room echoed with the reverberation of teleportation, leaving only the maid and a few royal guards alone in the now quiet dining hall.
~
The gardens were still in the winter air. It was far too early in the morning for anypony to be visiting them and by extension far too late in the night for any batpony to be wondering them. A soft breeze blew through the trees, shaking their bare branches, and loosening the snow that rested there.
‘Don't do it.’
The wind picked up a little. And the tree shook in kind.
‘Don't. Do. It.’
Right as the sparkling snow was about to be set free from its lofty perch, the wind died. And all was set to silence once again.
‘Thank goodness, that was clos—’
His thoughts were interrupted by a small pop, followed by a bright flash of light and the shockwave of teleportation. The snow fell from its tree, right onto the statue of Discord.
‘Of course.’
“Discord?”
‘Oh, and now I get to talk to the moody one.’
“I can hear that you know?”
Behind his snow-covered, stony prison. Discord rolled his nonexistent eyes.
‘Yes, of course I know. I wouldn't have bothered to think it otherwise. Here to torture me some more?’
“My my, and you’re calling me the moody one? And no I am not.” Luna sang. She approached the statue, the sound of her hooves crunching on newly fallen snow as she advanced. “Would you like me to get the snow? I know how you hate having your vision impaired. Really I can’t blame you. Must get dull, being stuck in there.”
‘Would you be so kind?’ If he had knees, he would have begged.
“I need something first.” Her tone went from playful to serious. Something was wrong and Discord was far too good at guessing games to miss it. He spent but a moment thinking up the possibilities, before answering her call, ‘I'm going to go out on a limb here and venture a guess.’
He couldn’t see it, but Luna cocked her head in confusion. “What do you mea—”
‘Since you’re not here to ask about that tragic little immortal you made, I’d say you've been having trouble in your dream world, haven't you?”
His thoughts were met with silence, the kind of silence that spoke more than words. Discord could practically feel his stony face alight with amusement, and his mind was, for the first time in centuries, filled with the satisfaction of victory. After a moment of contemplation, Luna spoke again. Though this time she was clearly frustrated, something that Discord was happy to note. “Yes, actually, I have. Did you have something to do with this? What do you know?”
‘Oh yes! This is fantastic! Finally, something to spice things up a bit!’ His statue was still, but Luna could feel the excitement bleeding off of him like heat from a fire. ‘It’s been far too long! But this is so much better than what even I could've hoped for!'
Luna stomped a hoof on the ground and huffed. “What's happening, demon! There are worse things to lose than your sight!”
‘Now now, little light,’ he could almost hear her disgust at that, ‘I wouldn't want to go and ruin the fun.”
“Fine. If you insist, I’ll leave you be.” Luna turned. “Shame really, it’s a beautiful sunrise.”
‘Hold on just a moment!'
“Why should I?” she spat. “I’m tired, I’ve been up all night and I want to get some sleep.”
‘Because I never said I wouldn't help you.’
“What? Yes, you di—”
‘You know, no matter how hard I try, I don't think you two will ever learn. I said I didn't want to spoil the fun. Not that I won't help you. Devil’s in the details, little light, you should know that by now.'
“Stop calling me that! And get on with it, if you’re going to say something useful, just say it.”
‘Alright alright, just calm down.’ Her thoughts burned a little hotter at that.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, lest I petrify your mind as well.”
‘Oh, you won't do that.’
“You think?”
‘Yes, because then I wouldn't be able to enjoy my imprisonment.’
She slumped back a little, a small sigh passing through her lips. “Just get on with it, I want to go to bed.”
For a moment Discord considered playing with her on a bit longer. Leading her on and on until her brain snapped into insanity. He could do it, he could do it oh so easily. The prison they held him in was so flimsy and they didn’t even know it. But he had rules. After being alive for so long you do get bored. And he wasn’t about to cheat his way to the top.
‘Fine. My advice is this. If you're having trouble with a dream walker, why not enter their dream?'
“What? I never said anything about a dream walker, how did you know about that? And it's impossible anyways. The amount of power it would take to project yourself into the dream world is immense! If something can do that, then its mind will be impenetrable.”
‘Have you tried it yet?’
“Well, no. But that doesn’t mean—”
‘All that means is that you don't know it won't work.’
“It's not possib—”
‘Now begone! I have snowflakes to count.’
Luna ground her teeth. Every time she talked to Discord, her temper always seemed to get the better of her. She turned, deciding to walk back to her chambers rather than teleport. The sunrise was too glorious to pass up. Without looking back, she spoke in a tired voice.
“Fine. Good day, Discord.”
And with that resolute farewell, she walked back towards her tower, leaving the lonely statue to its own devices. There he sat, quietly fretting over the coming months. To the average observer, it was merely a strange work of art. But underneath, the soul of chaos incarnate was leaping with joy. The chess board was set. The game was on. Powers were now in place that could not be undone, and he knew it. But for now all he could do was wait, so he did what any normal chaos god might.
He began to count the snowflakes on his brow.