The sunlight streams in the open window, making the classroom bright and airy. It warms Celestia’s back as she makes careful notes on the chalkboard. Outside there’s the soft sounds of morning: bird song and the distinct noises of her little ponies going about their day.
The classroom is empty, save for one desk. A petite unicorn scribbles down notes on her piece of parchment, her golden tail hanging off her seat. There’s such an intense look of concentration on her face as the quill swoops in the air. She may not be the first student that Celestia has taken but she’s one of the best. Celestia has such bright hopes for the things that she will do.
Celestia smiles to herself and resumes writing in a careful hoofscript.
She remembers this. Not this exact moment but this feeling of content peace. When everything was right. Nothing more to worry about than having a sister to love, a student to teach and a sun to raise. The little ponies adore her and the villages grow more and more each day. Ponykind is flourishing.
“Now, if you turn to page thirty-four, we have a new topic to discuss,” Celestia says finally, putting down the chalk. Bright Lights looks up at Celestia, obvious awe in her eyes.
“Am I going to learn Transfiguration spells?” asks Bright Lights excitedly. Celestia smiles at her thirst for new spells. She has another student like that now, doesn’t she? A sweet little thing, always greedy for new books and tests…but then the thought is gone, like dust on the wind, and Celestia focuses on Bright Light’s keen face once more.
“Of course. I think it is time. I am so pleased with your progress, little one,” Celestia says and Bright Lights beams under the praise from her beloved mentor. Much to Celestia’s surprise, her student’s image flickers, just for a few moments, like a flame guttering in the wind. Celestia takes a startled breath. Bright Lights looks up, concern in her eyes.
“Are you alright, Princess?” she asks curiously. Celestia puts a hoof to her forehead. She must be imagining things, that’s all. Celestia looks down at her student again and takes comfort in the spotless white coat and glossy golden hair she sees there. She smiles, relaxing. Of course. She’s just seeing things. It’s just Bright Lights.
“I am, my dear. No need to worry,” she says soothingly. “I just felt dizzy for a moment, that is all. Now, back to our studies…”
But it happens again. Celestia turns around only a few minutes later to write the five rules of transfiguration spells on the board and when she looks back, she lets out a yell of shock.
“What is it, Princess?” asks Bright Lights, startled by Celestia’s outburst but seemingly unaware of the blood that is bubbling up in her rosey eyes, streaking down her soft cheeks to drip off her chin onto the desk in front of her. The very sight of those eyes makes Celestia’s own sting in sympathy, as each blink of her student’s eyelashes speckle crimson across her face.
“Bright Lights!” Celestia gasps. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Princess,” says Bright Lights serenely, as the blood leaves red tracks in her white coat. “Are you sure you’re feeling well? You’re acting very strange.”
Celestia feels her fear take hold of her heart and squeeze it tight, freezing her to the spot. Her beloved student is crying red tears and she doesn’t know what to do.This cant be real, she must be hallucinating. She must be. But if she’s not, Bright Lights could die. What does she do?
“No,” whispers Celestia, stricken. “Please, don’t die.” But begging will do nothing. She’s had this dream - and it is surely a dream - before. She can never change the outcome of her nightmares. Her sister turns into a monster and has to be sent away. Sunset vanishes into a mirror, never to be seen again. And Bright Lights...oh, how she failed Bright Lights.
“Of course not, Celestia,” says Bright Lights, and her voice is...strange. Familiar still but somehow empty; void of all emotion and personality, rendering it the mere flow of air over vocal chords and absent of anything that was Bright Lights. “I’m never going to die. You should be happy for me.”
“Please, stop. Let her die. You should have let her die!” screams Celestia, as the fur over Bright Lights’ flank ripples and smokes with a sudden searing heat. The sulphurous stench of singed hair fills Celestia’s nose, making her cough. Burning, Celestia realises vaguely. It’s burning off her cutie mark.
The mark seems to writhe like a snake in the heat, glowing red then white hot as the skin beneath it bubbles; white fur mixing with red blood, then the sickly grey-green of decay and pus.
“No!” she gasps. “Stop!” But her hooves remain rooted to the spot and try as she might, she can’t move a single step to rescue her student. She’s helpless. She realised too late that this is a dream, her dream, one she’s had countless times before over the centuries, but now...Celestia’s realising that something is very different about this time. There’s something else here.
“But I’m not done yet,” says Bright Lights. “All this light, and joy, and sunbeams is making me sick. So I’m going to get rid of it all.” As if to prove her point the cutie mark on her flank flares with renewed vigour, magnesium bright, hissing as it burns itself through the spotless white coat into the skin beneath. The pus-filled residue of the mark fades and blackens, the smell of charred flesh filling the air as Celestia struggles not to gag on the bile that fills her throat.
“Please,” she whimpers, even as her stomach churns and her eyes fill with tears from grief and horror. “Take me instead.”
“I would if I could,” says Bright Lights, smiling to reveal jagged, carnivore teeth, which cut into her lips as the smile stretches. “But there’s too much in you. Too much lightness, too much goodness. I had to take somepony else instead.”
“She didn’t deserve this,” whispers Celestia, feeling wetness on her own cheeks but still unable to move. She is mourning Bright Lights, as she has for over a thousand years. She has imagined this countless times and is always helpless to stop it. Not matter how many dreams she has, not matter how often she tortures herself with guilt, she can never change the past.
The skin on Bright Lights’ flank is peeling, so badly charred that it’s falling to the floor in heavy flakes. But it’s not just her mark, it’s her lustrous mane and tail that’s burning like straw, the skin of her sides and belly cracked and seeping. But Celestia can’t gag, can’t even open her mouth to scream, as Bright Lights remains standing, in a circle of her own ruined flesh.
“No, but you did,” continues Bright Lights. “You didn’t save her. The most powerful one of all and you couldn’t save her.” Celestia hangs her head in shame. No. She couldn’t save Bright Lights. Couldn’t save Luna. She can’t save any pony.
“No, you can’t,” agrees Bright Lights. “You should remember that. No pony is safe. Not even your new little protege can stop us.” There’s a horrifying cracking sound filling the air, growing louder and louder, and it’s devastatingly familiar. Celestia raises her head and what she sees causes her to scream.
“No!” she shrieks desperately. “Stop!” The snap echoes through the room, which is followed by Bright Lights’ mad laughter.
“There!” she crows triumphantly. “There! How can you have a student with no horn? No destiny, no mark and no horn!”
Celestia stares at the jagged edge of what was once a horn on Bright Lights’ head, the broken pieces of which lay on the floor before her like so many lumps of charcoal. The stump where it has broken off is seeping blood and there’s a faint dash of white which Celestia realises is the dome of her student’s skull shining through her ruined forehead. The princess feels her knees give way beneath her.
“Well?” Bright Lights asks, pink spittle dripping from her mouth, rows of pointed teeth glinting in the light. “How is it, Celestia? To be immortal and powerful and good…but knowing that no matter what you do, nothing will change. Little ponies will always die. We will win.” And something in Celestia burns, makes her lift her head and fight back.
“You will not!” she says forcefully. “You couldn’t win last time and you will lose this time.” A brief flash of irritation clenches Bright Lights’ features.
“We may have failed once,” she hisses. “But then you were too late and your Sand Mare was dead anyway.”
“You’ve shown your hoof this time,” smirks Celestia. Last time they came with no warning. And the time before that...well, Celestia didn’t know what kinds of monsters were out there. But now she knows. And she’s been planning for such a long time. “This time I’ll be prepared for you.”
“No matter,” says Bright Lights, mouth stretched into an obscene grin with too many teeth for a pony. “Your sweet little student won’t be.”
Twilight!
And then…
Moon Shadow.
Celestia wakes up to banging on the door.
“Princess! Are you alright?” shouts a guard. She doesn’t have time to answer before a small squad bursts in and swarms around her bed.
“Princess?” one asks her quietly once they’ve seen that only the princess is in her room. “Are you alright?”
Celestia lays back her head, feeling the sweat on her fur all the way from her head to her flank. The dream is vivid in her mind, the blood, the smell of flesh, Bright Lights’ words. She is absolutely not alright.
“Get me Strong Stone,” she says decisively. “And make it fast.”
“Mother?” asks Shadow and tries to resist the urge to run to her mother’s hooves and cry about everything that’s been going on. ”What are you doing here?”
“Celestia sent a message to Ponyville,” says Tea Leaf, putting down her tea cup. “She said you had left Canterlot and the only place she could think of that you might be was here.”
“Are you taking me home?” asks Shadow anxiously, suddenly feeling about six years old again.
“Do you want to go home?” asks Tea Leaf, concern evident in her crystal blue eyes. “Are you ready to go back to Canterlot?”
“No,” Shadow says firmly, trying to at least look like a grown mare who can go where she wants. “I’m not. I still have things to do here.”
“You’re looking for information about your birth parents,” Tea Leaf says calmly. Shadow stares at her, open mouthed.
“How…how did you know?” she asks finally. Tea Leaf chuckles.
“It wasn’t that hard to figure out, pumpkin! You were born in this city, it was fairly easy to deduce that would be the reason you came here,” says Tea Leaf. Shadow gives up on pretending to be an adult and goes to collapse in her mother’s hooves. Tea Leaf strokes her mane gently, while Shadow just breathes in the comforting scent of loose tea leaves and vanilla. No matter where she is, that smell and this embrace will always make her feel like she’s home.
“I wanted to know what had happened to them,” Moon Shadow says quietly. “Why they vanished, if they were killed, why I didn’t die too.”
“Did you find out?” asks Tea Leaf softly. Shadow nods.
“I did. But I kind of wish I hadn’t,” she confesses. Tea Leaf frowns.
“I was never told much about your birth parents,” she says, still stroking Shadow’s indigo curls. “Celestia never told me anything and the orphanage had ‘conveniently’ lost your file. But you barely spoke for the first few weeks and I knew that something horrible had happened. I was grateful that at least you didn’t remember it.”
“Not that it helps me now,” mutters Moon Shadow grumpily. She curls herself up into a tight ball, not even caring that she’s got all four hooves on her grandparents’ crisp white couch. She’s been so tired lately, feeling that she’s carrying all of this weight on her shoulders. Her friends can never know and her relationship with Celestia is fractured. Kimono is dead. But Tea Leaf is here and supporting her, watching her back. She’s not doing this alone.
“Well, what have you done? There has to be a record of you somewhere in this city.” Moon Shadow lifts her head up a fraction so she can look at her mother.
“I went to the orphanage and yes, my file was destroyed, the day I left for Canterlot probably. I found the guard who took me there. I think I’ve had some suspicions confirmed. At least…I know who murdered them.” Tea Leaf’s hoof stills.
“So they are dead,” she says. “I’m so sorry, Moon Shadow.” Shadow shrugs. She’d known it all along. No regular pony could have faced Grogar and won.
“I don’t know how I got out though,” she says. “Mom, he would have been there to kill me. They died because of me.”
“I’m sure they died trying to protect you,” counters Tea Leaf. “I’d have done the same.” Shadow relaxes against her mother’s warmth. For all of the lies and uncertainty in her world, Tea Leaf has never been anything but a reassuring presence in her life.
“So, I think we should go to the town hall and have a look. There must be records about your parents somewhere. Do you know their names?” asks Tea Leaf. Shadow nods. She’d gotten their basic details from Black Dagger.
“Then we’ll go there tomorrow,” says Tea Leaf decisively. “There must be ponies in this city who knew them. Even if they won’t talk about their deaths, surely they must be able to tell you about when they were alive.”
“That would be nice,” Shadow murmurs, suddenly feeling very sleepy. She’s been so focused on what happened all those years ago, she forgot that she knows nothing about the ponies who gave birth to her. What had they done, what were their talents? Did she have other family out there, aunts, uncles or grandparents? Maybe even some cousins.
Tea Leaf smiles and looks at her dozing daughter, while Shadow, for the first time in weeks, drifts into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The clerk is like every other pony in this city – massively unhelpful.
“The birth records you’re looking for are in these cabinets,” the clerk says, pointing to at least three filing cabinets larger than Moon Shadow. The hall of records was a dull, grey building to match the endless dull, grey cabinets it housed. The clerk had looked at them over her glasses with a definite sneer and a considerable lack of interest. Moon Shadow supposes she’d lose all passion for life if she worked in a place with such dingy windows as well.
“Don’t suppose you know which one?” asks Tea Leaf, looking a bit gobsmacked at the sheer size of files they’ll have to tackle.
“No, I do not,” says the clerk snottily. “It’s sorted by month so that should narrow it down. Call if you need any help.” And without saying anything else, she walks off, leaving mother, aunt and daughter to stare at the task before them.
“I don’t think I’d call for her if I was on fire and she had a bucket of water,” mutters Crystal, glaring at the clerk’s departing back. Crystal had come at their request, not even hesitating to hand her shop over to her assistant for a morning to come help them. While Shadow may be here to find out about her birth parents, she’s fully aware that she got lucky with the family that chose her.
“She probably wouldn’t bring it, if it was too much effort,” says Shadow dryly. “Shall we take one each?”
The three mares choose a cabinet and settle down to wade through a whole year’s worth of births for Manehattan. It’s at least half an hour before any of them talk, as they focus on names and dates, trying to find Moon Shadow’s past.
“I don’t think I’m remotely close to the right month,” says Tea Leaf with a sigh. “How about you?”
“Nuh uh,” says Moon Shadow, dropping some papers back into the cabinet. “This is impossible. Why is this system so terrible?”
“I suppose they weren’t as strict on records back then,” says Crystal. “I hate to think what our records are like, Tea Leaf.” Tea Leaf nods.
“They’re probably lost in a black hole,” she says mournfully. “Don’t worry, Shadow, we’ll find them even if we’re here all day.” Crystal discreetly pulls a face.
“Some of us have businesses to run,” she points out. “And I don’t know if Diamond Dazzle will be ok on her own for that long.”
“And we have a train to catch this evening, mom,” Shadow says, moving on to the next drawer.
“I didn’t mean…I was making a point that we would if we could,” Tea Leaf huffs. Crystal shoots her niece a smirk.
“If you say so, sis,” she sings and then stops dead when her eyes catch sight of a name on a sheet of paper.
“Sweet Celestia,” she whispers. “Shadow, I think I’ve got it!” Shadow nearly shuts her hoof in a drawer in her desperation to see it. Tea Leaf scrambles up off the floor and joins them as they huddle around the page.
“It is it,” says Moon Shadow. And there it is in black print – born to Tawny and Inkwell, a filly at Manehattan General. Moon Shadow feels her eyes well up. This is solid proof that they’re her parents. She’s not sure how to feel but judging by the tears falling over her eyelids she’s feeling quite a lot.
“Oh darling, don’t cry!” says Tea Leaf, wrapping a foreleg around her daughter’s neck. “This is a good thing. We can find out more with this. Look, there are birth dates for them listed! That will help us.”
Crystal pulls a quill and a notebook out of her saddlebags and begins copying out details. Moon Shadow rubs at her snotty nose with her foreleg. Crystal, with a grossed out expression, passes her a tissue causing Tea Leaf to shoot her a look.
“You were being disgusting, darling,” says Crystal, eyes narrowed as she concentrates. “There we are!” She rips out the page and passes it to Moon Shadow.
“There must be some other records in here,” says Tea Leaf. “We can probably find your grandparents with these dates.” Crystal stashes the notebook and quill back in her saddlebags and pulls a face.
“I’m going back to the shop in that case. Glad to have helped but I’d better get a move on back to the shop. Dazzle might have burnt the shop down or sold an engagement ring for twenty bits or something.”
Tea Leaf hugs her sister gratefully. “Thanks for coming anyway, Cryssie. We’ll see you next time we visit.”
“Have a good trip home,” Crystal says, before turning to her niece. “And you. Next time you want to run away to Manehattan, come and stay with me! Why you would submit yourself to our parents willingly, I’ll never know. That monstrosity they put you in…”
“Ooh, do you have photos?” asks Tea Leaf, ears perking up.
“I don’t, sadly,” says Crystal while Shadow glowers. “Oh, it was fine. You looked like a…”
“If you say fat little pumpkin, I will end you right here,” threatens Shadow. She is so tired of that comparison. She had some foal weight for Celestia’s sake. It’s like nopony will ever let her live it down.
“Well, it’s not like I could call you a happy little pumpkin,” retorts Crystal. “You had a face like thunder!” She kisses her niece’s cheek as she passes by.
Shadow and Tea Leaf wave at Crystal until she’s out of sight and then Shadow uses her magic to start filing the papers scattered on the floor.
“More birth records?” asks Moon Shadow, shoving in papers where ever they fit. There’s probably going to be a few sticking out of the top when she closes the cabinet. Maybe she should suggest to Celestia that cities need to organise their older records more efficiently. And hint that a certain grumpy clerk should be in charge of Manehattan’s records.
“More birth records,” confirms Tea Leaf resignedly.
The file in Moon Shadow’s saddlebags is currently the most important thing she owns. In it is a copy of her birth certificate, the names and current addresses of both sets of grandparents, as well as the names of a pony or two who might have worked with her mother. And most important of all…
Shadow pulls the photograph out of her bag again and stares at her parents’ faces. Her mother has a gleaming coat the colour of a milky cappuccino and dark gold hair piled up in a bun. Her father is a rich red unicorn with inky blue hair falling in his eyes. They look young. They look happy.
Shadow presses the photograph against her chest and sighs. Tea Leaf is asleep across from her, sprawled out on two whole seats. She’d fallen asleep almost as soon as the train had started moving. Shadow should sleep too. She’ll have to go to work almost the instant they get back to Canterlot.
Shadow reluctantly puts the photograph back in her saddlebags. She’s looked at it so many times she feels like she’s wearing holes in Tawny’s face.
She might as well try and sleep. She curls around her saddlebags, hooves tucking them tight against her body, even though it’s unlikely any pony would want them. She feels like she’s protecting her parents somehow.
Tea Leaf makes a soft mumbling noise in her sleep and everything is quiet except for the constant clicking of the wheels.
Moon Shadow closes her eyes.
There’s no Kimono this time. She knows that the instant she opens her eyes in the dream world. Dreams with Kimono are jarring but they always feel safe. Familiar. This dream feels like the first time she dreamt, when she appeared on that dark street, surrounded by mist. Malevolent.
Shadow skitters back, igniting her horn automatically. If Grogar is here and Kimono can’t protect her, she’ll have to survive somehow until she gets woken up. How long can she last against another dream mage? An hour? Two? Kimono was killed by him; he’s probably prepared for anything she can throw at him…
But the thing moving in the darkness is too small to be Grogar and lacking any obvious horns. Moon Shadow steels herself and shifts her weight. It might be a trick. She waits, on edge, for her attacker to step forward into the light. But it never comes.
Instead there’s a chuckle.
“Oh, there’s no need for that,” says a silky voice. “I’m not going to attack you.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” says Shadow, not changing her stance or letting the fear she feels shows in her voice. She doesn’t want to be one of those Sandmares. She doesn’t want her mother to wake up at Canterlot station to find that her daughter didn’t survive the trip. But the silhouette of a mare merely smirks. No features are discernable in the shadows of the room: just enough to see her form. Four legs, a barrel, a mane and a horn. Shadow grits her teeth. She’s grateful to not encounter Grogar but whoever this mare is, she’s clearly not meant to be taken lightly.
“Now, dear, I know you’re scared,” she says in what is also a purr. “But you have my word this time. No harm will come to you here tonight. This is just a warning.”
“A warning?” asks Shadow apprehensively. The mare circles her, never stepping out of the darkness that fills most of the room. Shadow feels oddly bare and vulnerable standing in the spotlight.
“A warning to save your life,” says the mare. “A one-time only deal. Once you wake up, it’s off the table.”
“Alright,” says Moon Shadow, never taking her eyes off the mare stalking her like a wild animal. She feels like prey, for Celestia’s sake. “Let’s hear it.”
“You can get out now,” says the mare calmly, not at all put off by Shadow’s attitude. Let’s face it, one of them is intimidating here and it’s not Shadow. “With your life. Just leave and go away somewhere. Appleloosa. Back to Manehattan. The Hayseed swamps for all I care. Just far away from here and stop meddling in dreams.”
“I don’t meddle in dreams!” Shadow snaps. She probably shouldn’t be aggravating the mare but she can’t help it. Being Sandmare is more than her job. It’s her calling, her life. Everything revolves around it. “I’m the Sandmare!” The mare chuckles again.
“Oh, yes. The illustrious Sandmare. What a noble profession,” she says sardonically. “But it’s not a very satisfying life, is it? Your friends never see you. You never get to have fun or a normal life. And chances are, you’ll die young. I’m just offering you everything you’ve ever wanted. You could start over! New job, a proper job. You could even find a colt friend. And in return we leave you alone.”
“I’d also leave behind everypony I’ve ever known,” says Shadow stonily. This mare must take her for a complete coward. Leave her mother? Her friends? Everything she’s ever known? No way. That’s exactly what she’s fighting for. “And somehow I don’t think this deal applies to them.”
“Well, no. Not part of the deal,” says the mare. “We could extend it to your mother, I suppose. You both could escape easily enough.”
“And my friends?” asks Shadow. She’s struck with a horrible thought: her friends being terrorized by Grogar. Peaches shaking with fear. North on the ground with both wings broken. Midnight’s eyes as she stares at the demon ram. Canterlot castle desecrated and burning. No, she could never leave them. “What about them? You expect me to leave them to die?”
“No pony said anything about dying,” the visitor says and Moon Shadow can feel that smirk through the darkness rather than see it.
“Ponies will get hurt. I know that much,” says Shadow fiercely. Whoever this mare is, she must work with Grogar. Whatever is happening, there’s not much time left. And Kimono was right, she’s unprepared. They’ve come too soon. They’ve had years of preparation. They’ve launched an attack while she’s still finding her hooves.
“Maybe,” the mare says, with a shrug. “But that’s no matter. Ponies die every day. What’s a few extra?” Shadow grinds her teeth. A few extra…The way she’s making it out, only a handful of ponies will die. But Shadow knows what Grogar can do; she’s felt that bloodlust focused on her. Canterlot would have a massacre on its hooves.
“I can’t believe that you think I’d just leave. Canterlot is my home. It’s my duty to guard it and Equestria!” she shouts, slamming a hoof to the floor. The mare tilts her head and Shadow is unnerved by how familiar this is. Something about this mare bothers her, the idea just there in the back of her mind. But it flitters away before she can grab onto it.
“Oh, that’s so sweet. After all that’s happened to you, you still believe that,” she coos. “Precious little Moon Shadow, you know so little about who you really are. What you really are.”
“What…what do you mean?” Shadow stammers, thrown. The mare laughs and it sounds like the tinkling of bells. It should be a beautiful sound but it feels wrong. It sounds like it’s stolen, completely wrong with this mare wrapped in darkness.
“Celestia really doesn’t tell you that much, does she?” says the mare, sounding amused. “Honestly, and she’s surprised when you keep dying. Poor Celestia has always had a bit of a complex. She tries so hard to protect ponies that she goes too far. Look what happened to Kimono, after all.” Shadow starts at the sound of Kimono’s name.
“Oh, I know about Kimono,” says the mare, seeming to enjoy the look of shock on Moon Shadow’s face. “Sweet little thing. Never stood a chance. Unlike you, she never suspected that Celestia was keeping things from her. She was so surprised when we came for her. How betrayed she looked when we told her everything. It was almost enough to break your heart.”
“I don’t think you have one,” retorts Moon Shadow. Her heartbeat feels like it’s thrumming, loud enough for it to be audible in the room. The mysterious mare is getting to her. Somehow she knows all the right buttons to push. Either she has intel or… she’s been watching me. “You killed her and now you want to hurt even more ponies. Even worse, you think I’ll just step aside and let you!”
“So that’s a no?” asks the mare softly. “I’m letting you live. Just walk away and leave a normal life. Hey, I’ll even let you take a few friends with you, how’s that?”
“I know you’re lying,” Shadow says forcefully. Even without looking this mare in the eyes she knows. Anypony who can laugh about poor, sweet Kimono’s death isn’t somepony she can trust. “You won’t stop at Canterlot. You won’t be happy until you have all of Equestria!”
The mare grins and Shadow glimpses bright, sharp teeth in the darkness before they’re gone again. These aren’t the large tombstone teeth of Grogar. These are razor sharp points. On a clown, it was unnerving. Here, they’re downright terrifying.
“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” she sighs dramatically. “What a shame. I did like you, Moon Shadow. I was hoping that you'd choose to delay your death, even by a little bit.”
“You keep saying that,” says Moon Shadow testily. “Why? What do you know that I don’t?” The mare grins again, just another flash of teeth.
“Many things,” she says. “But if you want answers, you should ask Celestia.”
“But she won’t tell me anything!” Shadow returns, stamping her foot in frustration.
“Because she’s ashamed,” says the mare. Shadow freezes at her words. Is she helping her? “Don’t look at me like that. Long ago, Celestia made a mistake. There was a great enemy of Equestria that threatened the whole land and Celestia couldn’t defeat her. Instead she had her banished far away but it isn’t permanent.”
“Wait, what?” asks Shadow, dumbfounded. “Not…not Grogar?” The mare chuckles. She finds Shadow stumbling around the dark entertaining.
“Well, at least you know some things,” she says, sounding amused. “No, not Grogar. She came before Grogar…but not before me.”
“Another one?” Shadow says, mind reeling. Grogar, and this horrid creature and now another enemy? One is who is supposedly returning? “What do you mean Celestia couldn’t defeat her? Who couldn’t Celestia defeat? I mean, if she was strong enough to banish her…”
Maybe it’s the mare’s long teeth bared in the flash of light. Maybe it’s the memory of the two tapestries on the wall.
“There was another alicorn,” Moon Shadow says, realising, and the mare makes a hissing noise between her teeth.
“Oh, finally!” she says, sarcastically. “Now she gets it. No wonder so many of you died young if you’re this slow.”
“A Princess of the moon,” Shadow says, trying to remember the dark blue banner, the large ornate throne from the memory Kimono showed her. “She would have been strong. But where was she banished to?”
Shadow can’t see if the mare is rolling her eyes but she suspects as much. So she closes her eyes and thinks.
Princess of the moon. Princess of the night. Then she hears North’s voice in her head, as loud as though her friend was standing right there.
The stars are moving.
“The stars will aid in her escape,” breathes Moon Shadow, in horror. The mare cackles in delight.
“We have a winner!” she cheers. “And oh, look, another thing Celestia skipped out on telling you. How surprising.”
“But that’s a mare’s tale!” cries Shadow. Every foal grows up with the tale of Nightmare Moon. It can’t be real.
“So are you,” coos the mare. “You should know better than anypony that legends are things in history that no pony will believe anymore.” Shadow swallows. Nightmare Moon. The legend, the tale told to little foals on Nightmare Night. How is this possible?
How come Celestia never told her?
“Why are you telling me this?” asks Moon Shadow suddenly. She shouldn’t believe anything this mare tells her but somehow Shadow doesn’t think that this is a lie.
“Because you fumbling around for answers is getting kind of boring,” says the mare, bluntly. “Besides, I figure one of you clueless Sandmares deserves all the answers that the rest of them never got. Now, dear, ta ta. I’m afraid we won’t meet like this again. You’d better prepare yourself, little Sandmare, because a battle is coming. Next time, I won’t be so kind.”
And with that the dream cracks and Shadow wakes up, gasping for air.
“Pulling in at Canterlot Station!” announces the conductor and ponies all around them start gathering up their belongings. Tea Leaf wakes up with a yawn and a slow stretch of her legs. The view outside the window shows that they’re home again, the city illuminated by the setting sun.
Shadow rubs sweat from her eyes and tries to slow her racing heart. Once again she’s faced a monster in a dream and come out alive.
She’s not so sure how long she has before that luck will run out.
Celestia leads the way, horn lighting their path down a dark, stone staircase. Strong Stone is glued to her hind hooves, nervous in the dark. Celestia’s assistant, Ivory Thorn, follows at a more sedate pace, carefully following her princess and the stoneworker down into the depths of the castle.
“Where are we going, Princess?” Strong Stone asks, his voice sounding louder in the gloom.
“Someplace that no pony knows about and that must remain a secret, no matter what you see here,” warns Celestia. “Can I guarantee that you and your crew will keep this a secret?”
“Of course, your highness,” Strong Storm agrees immediately but can’t help the ripple of worry in his gut.
They walk down the staircase for nearly ten minutes until finally they reach solid ground. Celestia illuminates her horn even brighter and turns towards the long dark corridor.
“We have to go down there, don’t we?” mutters Strong Stone to Ivory Thorn.
“Uh huh,” Ivory says, and follows Celestia without hesitation. After a beat, Strong Stone’s hoof steps join theirs.
Strong Stone imagines all sorts of horrible monsters and secrets trapped in this dungeon, deep below the castle. Even the door to get to the staircase was heavily fortified and magically protected. There are no lanterns on the walls and the stale air indicates that no pony has set foot down here in many years. Strong Storm feels the walls closing in the further they walk.
So he’s a bit surprised when they reach the end and find it’s a solid brick wall.
“That’s it?” he asks incredulously and then hurriedly closes his mouth when Ivory Thorn shoots him a look.
“Yes,” says Celestia calmly. “That is why I brought you down here.”
“For a wall?” he says, dumbfounded. “Uhh...why?”
“I want you to knock it down,” says Celestia, never taking her eyes off of the stone wall.
“Knock it down?” he asks. And then makes the mistake of asking another question. “There’s not a pony behind there, is there?” To his shock, Celestia chuckles. Anypony else might have been offended.
“No, my dear pony. But something very important was sealed up years ago. I suspect that soon we will have need of it,” she says gravely.
“So we just have to knock it down?” Strong Stone confirms.
“Yes. But be careful. There are powerful enchantments behind there. I have a few unicorns in my school who would be keen to help you with them, if you so require.”
“Oh, thank you, Princess.” Strong Stone gestures at the wall. “May I?” She nods and Strong Stone steps forward to inspect the large stones.
He feels it before he can even touch one of the slabs. Like the air is moving, rippling underneath his hooves and moving through him. He may be an Earth pony but he knows magic when he feels it.
“Uh…very powerful enchantments,” Celestia corrects herself.
“Nothing dangerous?” asks Strong Stone warily. “Because I have good ponies I’ve got to look out for…”
“The relic behind those walls is no danger to any pony,” Celestia assures him. “But do take care with the enchantments. Magic can corrode if not stored correctly.”
“Is that’s what’s behind there?” Strong Stone asks, curiously. He can see Ivory Thorn glaring at him from behind Celestia. Maybe he’s asking too many questions. “Magic?”
“Of a sort,” Celestia says quietly. “Will you take the job?” Strong Stone considers. If he gets a few unicorns to deal with the enchantments, there’s no real risk. Besides, the castle will pay handsomely and Canterlot University is not cheap, no matter what his daughter seems to think.
“We have a deal, Princess!” he announces, removing his hoof from the stones. All that magic is giving him jelly legs.
“Glad to hear it,” says Celestia and both Ivory and Strong Stone hear the relief in her voice. “Now shall we return upstairs? It’s a bit creepy down here.” She turns and begins to lead the way back to the castle but stops after only a few steps.
“Oh and one more thing, Strong Stone?” There’s a serious tone in her voice that the builder has never heard before from their princess.
“Yes, Princess?” asks Strong Stone curiously.
“Do it quickly.”