“This is your plan, Quill. I think it’s only appropriate you remain here with me to see it through.”
Iron Quill emerged from the tunnel, straightening the Lord Commander’s armor about his torso. The weight of the enchanted metal was thin comfort against what he knew was waiting outside.
He strode up to the princess, bowing exaggeratedly for the benefit of the unicorn door-team. He was beyond thinking that Nightmare Moon herself actually cared about such petty signs of respect, at least from him. But whether everypony else saw and understood his obedience, that mattered.
“I would die just as easily if I were tucked away in my office,” he said weakly. “If our windows fail…”
He strode past the princess, stepping onto the curiously light growing soil and looking up.
Sunlight fell on his face, while still standing in the shelter of their tunnel. The warmth touched his skin, and for a moment he was transported, as real as any dream. With his hooves in the dirt, and the sun on his face—he could almost imagine he was home.
Then Nightmare Moon spoke, and her annoyance banished any impression that he wasn’t somewhere profoundly unnatural. “A failure now would not bring the death of everypony—not very quickly.” Nightmare Moon pushed past him, to where the unicorns finished their work with the ice. “Craftsponies, hurry your tasks to completion.”
Then she spun back around, glaring at him with a familiar look of frustration. It was the same expression she wore whenever one of them said something that she didn’t like. There were impossible-to-know rules about what things all ponies viewed as the truth, but that Nightmare Moon would mock and dismiss with casual disregard.
This was apparently one of them. “When I release this shield, the ideal failure is one that shatters a window instantly. I am here, nothing meaningful will be lost. Except our time. How many replacement windows have you made?”
“I…” He winced, avoiding her eyes. “One for each opening. They have… already been installed.”
Nightmare’s magic yanked Quill forward by the head, skidding through the growth tray until he was just below her. “I thought you were demonstrating remarkable foresight by growing our food so early. Now I fear I overestimated you.”
He didn’t look away. “I trust my ponies, Princess.” Her magic still held him by the collar, just a little too high for comfort. Metal pressed against his neck, making it difficult to breathe. Quill was no young colt anymore, and the pressure made his eyes water. “They’re the… finest in the world.”
“We’re done, honored princess of the night!” one of the unicorns shouted. They all bowed, retreating from the freshly-melted plug of ice.
Which we’ll have to maintain now that we’re working so hard to keep this section warm. I wonder how the ponies of Vanaheimr kept their air in.
She released him, nodding to the ponies as they passed. “You may leave,” she said. “Travel swiftly to the ice-mine and retrieve as much as you can carry. You may have a few more openings to seal.”
“It will be done!” They hurried off, obviously eager to be away from the Nightmare Princess as quickly as they could.
There were no other ponies with them in the farm now, just Nightmare Moon and her Lord Commander. Quill glanced down the hall, past where the glowstones had once hung. Now there was real shadow, making the white stone seem to glow. Near the edge of the light, Quill could see the reflection in a few sets of bat eyes.
Probably his workers, come to see if months of work had been for nothing. It didn’t matter that many of them didn’t fully understand the challenges they were trying to overcome.
“You continue to struggle against your mortality,” the princess whispered, no longer sounding so imposing. She spoke so quietly that even the sensitive ears of bats at the end of the hall wouldn’t be able to hear. It was just the two of them, and water dripping from the last test of the warmth engine. “I watch your fight, and I wonder if my own might not be destined for failure. The darkness writhes.”
“It isn’t,” Quill repeated. “Life has always been hard, Princess. Even before the Tyrant’s rule got so bad. When I retired, I spent years reading the scrolls of ponies who were dead before Equestria itself was founded. They fought against the cold too, and they triumphed together. We are far wiser and stronger than they, because their knowledge is our foundation. Even if you cannot return us to Equestria, we will survive.”
He didn’t dare touch her, though he might’ve for a pony in distress who wasn’t under his command. “You really do have the strongest ponies in the world following you. I watched armies lose one stallion in ten, and break like sand. Yours has lost one stallion in two, and yet we endure.”
He watched her face closely for any sign of an expression—be it friendly or otherwise. One eye twitched, and her mane began to billow and writhe behind her. She inhaled, exhaled again, muttering something he couldn’t hear. Finally she looked up again. “I am… sorry… about the pony you lost. He did not deserve to die.”
I didn’t even know you knew that word.
“He didn’t,” Quill said. “I was sorry to lose him. But every leader makes mistakes, Princess. Your ponies fear you, but they still respect you. They believe in the promises you made to Equestria.”
“We must survive to keep those promises.” Nightmare Moon’s horn flickered, then went out.
Above them, Quill heard a faint creak of glass from one window, then another. He stared up at the ceiling, watching as the little sliver of air Nightmare Moon had been holding puffed away into the void.
He watched the windows the same way he might’ve watched the opposing battle line, waiting for the charge that would begin the slaughter. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe.
“You have a leak.” Nightmare Moon vanished from beside him, reappearing some distance away and pointing up at a window. It was one of the nearest to the tunnel, one that had carved through several feet of rock to reach the surface.
He watched, looking for anything that would suggest a leak. His ears twitched, and he heard it. A faint hiss, like a nervous snake.
The princess reached down to the bucket off to one side, holding it up and sniffing at it. Even covered, the excess paste was already starting to harden. She lifted the brush, running it along the rim of the window. The black slime bubbled for a few seconds along the seam, then the hissing stopped. She brushed a few more times for good measure.
“This suggests the crew who sealed this window has failed twice,” she said, pointing with a hoof through the glass. “There is no vacuum in the middle section, so that seal is insufficient as well. Fix it.”
“We will,” he agreed, lowering his head for the princess.
She vanished, reappearing beside him again. “Your faith in my army was not misplaced,” she said. “But the task you have managed is only the beginning. To construct a greenhouse without hydroponics, without grow lights, without monitoring… can the magic of those who labor here replace artifice? I demand the second portion of whatever harvest is brought in. You may eat the first, when the moment arrives. I will be in attendance to watch.”
How many times do you need to reassert your dominance over me, Princess? Do you really want to lose your Lord Commander over a poisoned potato?
“Of course, Princess. Though it will take some time, even with earth ponies in constant attendance.”
“Obviously.” She waved a dismissive wing. “The question that matters to me is not how long you think it will take, but whether the crop will be ready to harvest before you all starve. Or whether the ground here will allow plants to grow, even with an acceptable range of temperature and moisture. You cannot possibly understand the complexity of the interactions involved in the food you eat.”
He nodded obediently. “I would be happy to listen to an explanation. Or… actually, I would beg that you make the explanation to ponies who might understand it. I have several in mind.”
Nightmare Moon nodded. “Remember what I said of viziers who speak too boldly. Your successes purchase my patience. Ensure your supply of currency does not deplete.”
Iron Quill didn’t follow her as she left, just remained beneath the windows listening for leaks. He heard none, and there was nothing like the shatter of glass that might’ve signaled a dramatic end to their farming. A few beads of moisture condensed on the glass, but it was much too warm to freeze. With sunlight constantly streaming in, there would be no danger of that. But what happens to that glass when night comes again?
Sylvan was the first to arrive, with Appleseed just behind and several of the farming ponies pulling carts. Quill watched them come, curious at the change in their uniforms. They weren’t wearing the vests and trousers that went with military deployment anymore. Instead they each had a green sash across their chests, cut from scrap cloth somewhere.
Appleseed strode past him, walking out under a window just as Quill himself had done. Iron Quill certainly couldn’t fault another old pony enjoying something they thought they’d never feel again.
“The princess approved of our work?” Sylvan asked, stepping out of the way of the workmen, beside the heat-machine. As he spoke, the first trickle of water started to flow, raising a few popping sounds as it drained from one internal metal plate to the next.
“More importantly, the moon approved,” Quill said, pointing up at the windows with a wing. “We have a chance not to starve. Now we have to use it.”
Appleseed hobbled past the soldiers, adjusting his own sash with a hoof. “Magic ain’t quite the same up here as it was back in Equestria, but we’ll make do. Don’t you worry, Lord Commander. So long as I have the ponies I need. So long as the heat flows, and we have enough light through the night.”
“You will have everything and more,” Quill said. He walked past Appleseed, glancing in the cart. It was overflowing with sturdy wooden crates. Each one was brimming full of potatoes, nearly all of which had little eyes emerging from their skin. “I will speak to Chain Mail, Appleseed. This field will have guards around the clock. As to whatever other resources you require, Silver Needle will provide them.”
Appleseed looked away, pawing at the ground. “Forgiveness to an old stallion, Lord Commander. I never thought… I ain’t suited for such responsibility.”
Quill laughed. “Neither am I, yet here we are. This field must provide for all. We will sacrifice anything to protect it.” He raised his voice, loud enough that everypony all up and down the hallway would be able to hear. “I promote you to Lieutenant, Appleseed, with all the benefits and privileges of your office and commensurate holdings in our princess’s kingdom. You may name your own NCO, and choose colors for your men. It seems you’ve… already done that.”
Appleseed looked away again. “Forgiveness again, Lord Commander. Not all here came from any of the camps. No two came from the same camp, at that. We needed something to unite us, when all we had was crushing dung into sand for work.”
“No forgiveness necessary,” Quill said, turning away. “If we ever find a way to weave more cloth, I’ll authorize proper uniforms. Until then—we must eat.”
He passed Cozen in the path leading up, hauling a toolbox behind her along wooden wheels. Sylvan darted past Quill, meeting her with a kiss before taking the toolbox in his mouth and taking over hauling it.
Cozen slowed a little as she passed. “Something wrong, Quill?”
“Not today,” he said. “Send Sylvan back to me as quickly as you can. He was going to show me his progress with fungus cultivation.”
She nodded, though from her expression Quill could tell it wouldn’t be anything like fast. He didn’t press. The mushrooms would still be there tomorrow.
He felt the pony watching him more than he saw her, as he neared the end of the passage and the entrance to Moonrise proper. He stopped in the darkness, and didn’t turn around. “How long have you been following me?”
“Just waiting for you to get out of the sun.”
Penumbra didn’t “appear” exactly, since there was almost no light to see by, and she hadn’t done anything to become easier to see. But suddenly her steps made noise as they should, suddenly every sound that echoed up from below bounced off the Voidseeker as easily as Quill himself.
Even if he couldn’t see anypony coming, Quill didn’t dare show any sign of what had happened between them. Not here in the most well-traveled part of the outer city.
He faced her anyway, the same way he would’ve for any other important pony meeting him in the dark. Alone. “Good news? Nightmare Moon didn’t kill you, so I have to assume.”
“Good news,” he repeated. “I think we actually did it. Enough for the farm to start growing, anyway. We’ll see if the glass survives. After seeing what the void can do, holding it back with just a little glass seems… overly brave.”
He couldn’t see her expression in the dark, but she sounded amused, distant. “What it must be like to need to breathe. I barely even remember. You know you could put all of this behind you, Quill. You never have to fear the darkness again.”
I don’t even know if I could. He looked back into the gloom behind her for several long moments, considering the invitation. Something was different about him, something that hadn’t been true before. When Luna stirred in her nightmares, somehow he had stilled them. The Alicorn was waking up, however slowly. If he could do that…
But that wasn’t what he told Penumbra. “The Lord Commander is always mortal. You heard her.”
“Maybe she’d make an exception,” she argued. “There’s never been another pony quite like you. An old warrior, who… what do you actually do again?”
“Get the right ponies on the right jobs,” he answered. “Then watch.”
“Doesn’t sound like you have to be mortal for that,” she said. “Nightmare could…” She trailed off. “Weird. By now it would’ve wanted to say something. Maybe try to force you into agreeing, or…” She lowered her head, settling it up against his. “I can’t hear it. Normally it speaks loudest in darkness.”
Again he considered telling her what he had already guessed about the strange process he had endured in Vanaheimr. But he resisted. Whatever Nightmare hadn’t already deduced on its own, Quill wasn’t going to tell it.
“You have to do something,” she said, voice suddenly urgent. “I don’t know why I can… it’s Aminon. He’s going to kill you.”
“I know,” Quill said. “We’ve been talking about this for a while now. The closer we get to a stable camp, the more that he—”
She silenced him with a hoof. “Not that, Quill. I mean he’s been plotting to assassinate you. Meticulously, ruthlessly. I’ve known for weeks now, and I haven’t been able to say.”
Quill knew he should’ve done something. He needed to fly, or run, or something besides stand quietly in the dark and wait for death. But he didn’t move. He stood beside Penumbra, feeling her head against his shoulder. He knew she was really a corpse, yet the rot failed to disgust him. It hadn’t for a long time now. “When?”
“Soon,” she said. “I don’t know what will make him do it. He plans on killing you when you’re off on your own, then make it look like you tried to run away. He wants you to look like a coward, so none of your ponies will stand a chance in succession.”
Quill felt it then, though he couldn’t have said precisely how. It was the same instinct he’d relied on during his duel with Permafrost. Something had just appeared beside him.
Quill rolled to one side, drawing the Lord Commander’s sword with one wing and swinging out in a wide arc.
It caught against something metallic, sparking once in the gloom. Aminon hovered there, utterly still and quiet.
“I can’t believe you had it in you, Penumbra. A traitor in the ranks, overcoming the gaeis upon her and every custom of honor. Do you serve Nightmare beside us, or don’t you?”
Quill landed in a crouch, making the occasional click. At least now he could hear them both, now that he knew what to look for. It would be harder for Aminon to vanish while his attention was on him, but not impossible.
“I… serve…” Penumbra dropped to the ground, shaking.
Quill jerked towards her reflexively, but suddenly Aminon was between them. “You came dressed for ceremony. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to come back out for a piss alone late at night and make this easy on everypony?”
Quill lowered the sword. “I have the loyalty of an army, Aminon. I am the Lord Commander. With one shout they could be here. Why would you fight me here?”
“Perhaps. But the Voidseekers serve me faithfully, in ways you could not imagine. Even those who say to themselves that they have some choice in the matter—they must obey me. I have ordered them to slay any creature who attempts to enter this tunnel. Do you think your beleaguered mortal army could win against them before I kill you?”
Penumbra was huddled on the ground, twitching and struggling. She reached out with one wing towards Quill, then seemed to lose focus and start struggling again.
“Penumbra, take up your dagger,” Aminon ordered.
The bat twitched and struggled—then her leg moved. She unsheathed her dagger in one smooth motion, holding it out in front of her while the rest of her body spasmed uselessly.
“Hold it up against your heart.”
Quill didn’t stand still, but lunged for Aminon before he could make his next order.
His blade passed clean through Aminon’s wing without resistance, drawing no blood. Instead there was a hiss of magic as it passed through, then Aminon vanished completely. He reappeared inches away, swinging with his dagger.
“If he screams, kill yourself,” Aminon ordered, voice flat. His attention was obviously focused on the dagger as he swung it at Quill’s neck.
But where Permafrost had been a powerful soldier so full of magic he didn’t know what to do with it, Aminon was something else. His strength was overwhelming, but his technique—that was sloppy.
Quill flicked his sword to one side, tearing the dagger from Aminon’s hooves and sending it spinning into the dark. He kicked out at the same time, aiming right for the pony’s neck.
Aminon vanished again, reappearing somewhere close. He could see nothing of the teleport, but he could hear him dragging along the floor. There was no heavy breathing, or other signs of wounds. Aminon wouldn’t get wounded.
Quill darted over to Penumbra, settling one hoof on her shoulder. “Come back,” he whispered, ears perked and alert. “You can fight, Penumbra! You don’t have to obey him!”
Her dagger quavered in her hooves, shaking against her robe. But she didn’t lower it. “Nightmare… commands…”
“Buck what Nightmare commands! Do what Penumbra commands!”
“You mock her,” Aminon said, suddenly very close. His voice sounded slightly muffled now—damage to his throat. Some unicorn would have to magically repair it. Or the princess herself. “Nightmare rules over all creation, Quill. She must obey him. You could have chosen obedience once. But now you are… broken. You must not be allowed to pass on your imperfection to others.”
The cavern grew suddenly cold, muffling the sound and coating every surface with frost. Quill took off, backing away even as his wings burned. He could see sunlight still, though it was so far away that no meaningful glow reached him. If it had, then Aminon never could’ve fought him.
“You will stop,” Aminon commanded. “You will not flee me like a coward, Quill. Or Gray Lantern will shatter your glass and doom everypony. I don’t want that to happen—so many of them might still join Nightmare’s kingdom. Don’t damn them.”
Quill touched back down on the ground. I have to kill him before he can freeze me to death. His armor would protect him from many attacks, anything except a direct strike. Aminon didn’t even seem to be holding the knife.
He tucked his wings in, diving backward with his sword outstretched. Before he even got close, Aminon vanished, reappearing on the other side of the wide cavern. I’m already slowing down.
“I’m sorry for swinging that dagger at you,” Aminon mocked. “It was crass of me to touch a weapon. I use it for measuring ingredients far more than I wave it at other creatures. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Quill landed in front of him, acting as though he were preparing for a charge. But instead of charging, he gripped the mundane dagger stuck into his vest, and heaved it forward at Aminon, a streak of glittering metal in the near-darkness.
The dagger found its mark, directly in the bat’s neck. Quill heaved, huge clouds of fog puffing out with each breath. His legs shook with the weight of cold and years. But he didn’t even have a robe for warmth, and his Lord Commander’s armor did nothing at all.
Aminon laughed. His voice came in a gurgling, wet sound. He tossed the bloody dagger to the ground, trailing black ichor.
Whatever he was trying to say, Quill couldn’t understand it anymore. His throat and neck were so badly damaged that it only came out like different slabs of meat smacking into each other, grinding together.
He’s still alive. What did Quill have for other weapons? If I decapitate him, that should do it. He’d seen almost fifty of the Solar Guard kill a Voidseeker that way, dying by the score but eventually removing its head.
He swung out towards Aminon again, but his wings were so stiff by now that Aminon only had to duck slightly to one side.
He said a few more things—probably taunts—as he approached Quill. Quill swung back again, punched forward a few more times as the cold crept up his legs. Then Aminon took hold of the sword, yanking it away from his wing. Quill felt delicate bones break and frozen skin tear as the sword came free.
The cold reached up into his mind now. It condensed on his armor, his face. This is how I’m meant to die, he realized, a single clear thought in a haze of confused emotions. I stood by and watched Nightmare Moon murder thousands. I let her fall as far as she did. The cold came for me too.
Aminon wasn’t finished with him quite yet. He tossed the sword to the ground, pushing down on Quill with both legs. He forced him down until he was kneeling, probably tearing tendons and flesh on the way down too. His body didn’t have the strength to resist.
It’s getting warmer, he thought, though he couldn’t imagine how that could be. His legs and chest now felt like they were on fire. He wanted to pull his armor off, pull off everything he could. But he couldn’t even blink anymore.
Aminon returned a moment later, somehow completely unaffected by the cold that already felt like it had killed him. He said something that was a mix of gurgles and meaty tearing noises, then cleaned the blade against Quill’s own armor.
Finally he held it up to his neck, pressing under the lip of the breastplate, where the helmet might’ve met it if he’d been wearing it. Even if he couldn’t understand Aminon’s words, the satisfaction in his face was clear enough. This moment had been a long time coming. Nightmare would rule as it was always meant to.