//------------------------------//
// Part 1: Awaken to a new day. 
// Story: True Harmony 
// by Saturni_Rose 
//------------------------------//

Luna rose, before the sun. Tossing off her sheets, she sat up in bed and streeeeetched on out. Nary a yawn escaped her as she hopped onto the floor, making her way to the bathroom. She splashed a little water across her face from the basin and ran a brush across her hair. Beyond the frame of the door, she could see the first light of morn crest the horizon, via her easternmost window growing a dull glow. And, surprising even herself, a happy little hum escaped her. 
It was a melody she hadn’t recalled in some time. And as she hummed on, the memory became more clear. The song was a summer hymn of old, which she first heard Celestia practicing all alone in an opening in the Everfree. When Luna had snuck up on her, it became the first time she’d ever seen her older sister turn so red in the face. Luna laughed for days about it, stifling herself to a snicker to try and keep it secret at Celestia’s begging. 
They were so young back then. Little did they know the fate that lied before them. A little pang clenched softly at Luna’s heart. Would that things had gone differently. The self commiseration passed quickly enough, though. Things were different now, and she felt much better. 
Heading downstairs to start her day, Luna wore a smile of contentment. One which started to fade, for when she hit the landing, she spied them at last. Outside, several figures shuffled about, casting curious silhouettes upon her windows. There were, however, not that many books checked out to account for all of them. Something was amiss. 
Hesitating briefly, Luna steeled herself, and made for the door. She undid the lock, and stepped out onto the stoop. “Hello, may I help you?” 
There was maybe a baker’s dozen or so of them--ponies of every sort and color, from all walks of life, as denoted by their gaggle of varied accents. But what they all shared in common was a cardstock badge of sorts, pinned to sweaters, jacket lapels, and the odd hat, which read: “Press.” 
With clicking cameras and notepads at the ready in a heartbeat, they rushed into an aimless blob around the mare of the hour. Questions flew like arrows, one after the other. “Miss Luna! Is it true you and princess Twilight are dating?!” “Luna, are you going to return to your throne?” “Luna, Luna! Ay, whaddya say to the rumors that Nightmare Moon never actually returned when you did, and it was all a hoax to get back into the good graces of ya sister?!” 
“I’m…” muttered Luna. “Um.” she sputtered. “Well.” she stammered. The questions kept coming. She never got a chance to answer any of them. She barely had room to breathe. 
“Alright, that’s enough!” came a projected voice which shook the very shutters on nearby windows. When all eyes followed to the source, they saw princess Sunset, with Twilight in tow. 
When two alicorns set down in front of a third one, the excitement riled up in the crowd of journalists anew. They started to clamor over one another all the more aggressively. This woke the residents across the street, who sleepily leaned out their second floor windows to complain, only adding to the noise pollution. 
“Quiet!” Sunset shouted them down, and a deafened silence settled over the lot of them. 
Twilight stepped forward, nervous but polite. “We’re so sorry to cause a disturbance for you all.”
“But your majesties,” cried a passionate journalist, “the public has important questions, as to what it means for us that Luna is back in the queen’s life.” Murmurs passed around, about Luna and her capacity to wear a crown and allocate tax revenue once more. Even the previously angry locals calmed down to ponder this possibility. 
Twilight bit her lip, but when she turned to Sunset, she got a nervous shrug. She cleared her throat and tried to address this as best she could. “You’re right, the citizenry does deserve to know. We can… clear a conference on the day after tomorrow, 10AM, Canterlot main hall. Would that be alright with you, Luna?” 
Stammers came naturally. It had been a little while since Luna had been so put on the spot for the sake of a crowd. Now shouting one down, for miss Mare, that had been a bit of a different story. “Erm, well, I… I suppose that would be alright.” 
The disturbed sleepers and inquiring press alike slowly grumbled out a sense of agreement among themselves. And as the crowd dispersed, Twilight and Sunset whisked Luna away, retreating inside. Meanwhile, the various journalists ambled off, each jotting down some variation of: “Luna was unable to comment on the rumors at this time, which is why this is merely a speculation piece for now. Keep reading to find out more as the story unfolds.” 
All three alicorns breathed a sigh of relief, and Luna shouted: “What was all that about?” 
“Bridle gossip.” said Sunset with a prolonged groan. “You were seen at a big event rubbing elbows with several ponies in high places. Now curious minds are churning the rumor mill.” She tiptoed over to the window to make sure they were well alone. 
“Sorry I just committed you to a press conference like that.” lamented Twilight. “It was the only thing I could think to appease them.” 
“It’s alright,” Luna told her, unconvincingly, “I suppose this was going to have to happen eventually.” Resigned to her fate, she leaned against the nearest bookshelf. “And surely the ponies of Equestria deserve to know the fate of their governance. But I had been looking forward to a little quiet finally.” 
Sunset snickered, losing her focus from the door. “Wow, you might not wear a crown anymore, but you sure are being a drama queen.” 
Luna’s nostrils flared. “I don’t think you’ve earned the right to joke around with me just yet.” 
Twilight stared at the unease prevalent between them in that moment. She began to suspect this was not the first time they’d had an interaction like this, and her own focus on the task at hoof began to fade. “Whoa, hey, what’s this about?” The two of them looked away in guilt, so she picked one out. “Sunset?” 
Sunset had no response, and Sunset knew that wasn’t good enough. Though, maybe now was not the best time for this. Even still, she had to say something, anything at all, to placate her. “Listen, Twil--agh!” 
Hope-Heart bounced with surprise as she caught this stranger so off guard, she tumbled right back, one end going over the other. Gingerly, she set down a couple cups, and extended a hoof. And when Luna snickered, she shot her a disapproving look. “Whoa, I am so sorry about barging into you with the door like that. Here, are you oh… kay?”
Sunset took her hoof, but felt herself slipping back down. She haphazardly stood herself upright. Unconfident, she told her: “Thanks, I think.” 
“Oh,” mused Hope in silent shock, “you’re princess Sunset.” 
“That I am.” Briefly, Sunset’s eyes darted over this young mare. 
Hope’s hooves covered up her mortified face. “I knocked over a sitting royal. This is the worst day of my life.” 
“What? No, it is super okay. Really. It was an accident.” Sunset pat the stranger’s shoulder, whereupon she began to stumble back, losing her footing. By the time she reached out to the gray unicorn, she’d already halfway balanced herself against a table. 
“What I’m wondering is what you’re doing here. Your shift isn’t until much later.” Luna went over to her, to lift her up. 
She looked up to her with those red eyes. They were normally so piercing and brimming with the confidence of one who could see into your very heart. Now, the accidental act of nigh regicide sapped her of that honing gaze. “I was going to pass by here anyway, so I thought I’d drop in to bring you a coffee. Since you’ve taken to it so quickly.” 
After a pause for it to register, the words finally formed in full. Tugging at her heart, Luna said: “Aw, that is so nice of you.”
“Are all the ponies who work here are melodramatic?” snarkily asked Sunset, who was promptly ignored. 
A hoof with a lavender coat attached presented itself before them. “Hi, I’m Twilight. I don’t believe we’ve met.” 
Hope-Heart’s heart leapt into her throat, and her hope sank the other way. She went limp again in Luna’s hooves.  “Another princess saw me assault the first one. This is worse than I realized.” 
“No,” Sunset insisted again firmly, waving her hooves outward as far as they’d reach, desperate for her attention so this would stick, “really. I am fine, see? No harm done.” 
Propping Hope up, Luna snickered and muttered: “Besides, it was quite funny.” 
Sunset bristled up and began a haughty march her way. “Now is not the time, moon girl.” 
“Oh, but it was the time when you had a joke at my expense?” shot back Luna. 
Twilight put herself between them. Mainly, though, she blocked Sunset. With eyes of a commanding, regal purple, she practically locked her in place. “That is enough, both of you.” 
As the two of them looked away from her to pout, Hope slipped through Luna’s hooves. “Wow,” she stammered, swiping her cup from the tray, “would you look at the time? I think I’d best be going. Bye now, it was great meeting you.” 
Luna followed her to the exit and watched her scurry away. With a sigh, she closed the door, and locked it for good measure. Heavily, slowly, as though her hooves were waylaid by chains, she turned back to them. “Alright. We’re well alone for the time being. Now what did you two really come all this way to do?” Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t lie to me.” 
Twilight gulped. Nerves wracked her. If what Sunset told her was true, then even hearing their intention could escalate things very quickly. And she’d never been in a true fight before. While her mind retraced her lessons with Shin, the words tumbled forth: “Now Luna, I need you to please stay calm when I say this.” 
“Calm?” Luna’s furrowed brow relaxed a moment, then tensed upward in the opposite direction. “Is it Celestia? Oh no, what’s happened?” 
“It’s you, actually.” nervously blurted Twilight. “We would, both of us, like to, um… run a detection spell over you?” 
Luna gaped at that pleading face. It betrayed a heavy tensing up in her legs. And sunset had stayed back, her head lowered slightly, and her antsy hooves ready to twitch into motion. What occured to Luna was they were both expecting not merely an unpleasant response, but a violent one. So she picked her next words very carefully. “Alright. Do what you feel you must, Twilight.” 
Twilight watched her turn up her nose, close her eyes, and stand perfectly still. Turning to Sunset, she told her: “Alright, now use the incantation, just like I showed you earlier.”
Sunset ran that impromptu divination lesson from earlier back over her mind once more. She closed her eyes. Whispered words repeated softly over her lips, wafting on the air to meet the ones uttered by Twilight. Their horns both glowed, and a dull white light formed on top. Together, they walked in opposite circles around Luna, horns pointed at her. After several rotations, they left her. 
“Satisfied?” Despite herself, some of her bitterness came through. 
With their shoulders turned to her, they conferred. Twilight whispered: “There’s no malicious spirits of any kind haunting her. She’s totally clean.” 
Panic started nestling in for Sunset, and made itself nicely comfortable. Exactly as comfortable as she wasn’t. “I don’t understand. It wasn’t a dream, Twilight, I swear.” 
“And I believe you.” insisted Twilight, hooves held up in a disarming fashion. 
“Then why didn’t we catch it?” Sunset’s whisper grew a little out of control. “Maybe we should check again.” 
Luna was not sitting through this a second time. “Would you two please finally explain to me what’s going on here?” She stepped forth, more adamant. “You could hardly have known I’d be accosted by curious ponies, and now this? What, pray tell, did you just try to detect in me?” 
Sunset gulped so hard, one might suspect she were attempting to swallow the soft boiled egg she usually took for breakfast, shell and all. No salt. “Well. You see. Um.” 
“Sunset,” urged Twilight a bit more firmly, pushing her Luna’s way, “just tell her what you told me. It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.” Though she said this, Twilight wasn’t so sure it was for Sunset’s benefit or her own. 
“There’s no easy way to put this, Luna.” She closed her eyes and drew a breath so sharp, it might break skin. “I have reason to believe a small portion of Nightmare Moon’s essence either escaped your initial banishment, o-or maybe even survived your final confrontation with her.” 
“What?” At first, Luna merely quirked her brow and curled up her lip. This was ludicrous. But there was more to come. 
“I saw this entity myself, at the abandoned Everfree castle. Right before it hijacked my body as a vessel to carry it into town.” Shame crawled all along Sunset’s spine, like dozens of spiders ready to bite down. Her hoof found its way to her upper forelimb, scratching nervously. “It said something about using me to… I dunno, strengthen its connection to ‘her.’ I figured there was only one pony that could mean.” She pointed at Luna, shame and regret croaking in her voice. “You.” 
“Alright.” said Luna curtly after a pause. “No.” 
Sunset peered over her shoulder at Twilight, who could only offer a nervous shrug. Turning back, she said: “What do you mean, ‘no?’”
“This is not happening.” Luna gestured vaguely, as though “this” were a tangible thing she could point to. Would that she could, because then she could also grab it, and finally throw it out of her life for good. “There is nary a method by which my shadow could return. I vanquished that cretin once and for all, and I shan’t have to fight it back anymore!” She stomped her hoof, her wings flaring in frustration. “Because it’s dead!”
As Sunset shrank back from her rising temper, she remembered the opposite happening the day they met. There was another just pill she needed to swallow. The ache of her heart was telling her she deserved this, and worse besides. “Luna, I--”
“No,” she said, confidence fading, “no more fighting, I refuse it. I swore I wouldn’t fight anymore, not if I can avoid it, and I want to avoid it. I promised myself, for my own health. I promised my girlfr--” Wincing, she trailed off, eyes widening. It was as though the bandaging of a fresh wound was being peeled away entirely too soon, unsettling the still-oozing red beneath. Luna sat back down, and her wings drooped. 
Twilight stepped forth, tentative with her hoof falls. “Luna? Are you alright?” 
A blue hoof found its way to Luna’s cheek. It came back damp. “Apparently not.” 
“You can talk to us about it. We’re here for--” 
“I’m so sorry!” whined Sunset, tearing up as well. “This is all my fault. I was snooping around that stupid castle trying to find any dumb old reason I could to keep disliking you, and that is so unfair, and now I’ve unleashed your shadow all over again.” She stumbled past Twilight and threw herself at Luna’s mercy. Face at her hooves, that fiery red and yellow hair turned to cinders on the floorboards. “I promise I’ll make this right. I’ll track it down and deal with it, I swear.” 
When looking down upon her, the thought of how sweet it felt faded very quickly, surprising even Luna herself. The euphoria had been replaced right away with bitter memories of groveling ponies who’d be hurt the most by difficult decisions she and her sister had to make, back when she wore the crown. So instead, she picked her up, and in a fleeting moment of ill thought out decision making, hugged her. “It will be alright, Sunset.” 
Wary hooves tucked in under those blue wings. “I don’t understand. Why, I-I don’t deserve this kindness.” 
“No, you surely do not.” sighed Luna, patting her back. “But a wise pony I know told me that sometimes, individuals like you and I lash out when we’ve been hurt. So I wanted to try her advice on how to deal with them. Instead of my former method.” 
A great weight overcame Sunset, shoving down hard on her heart. Her mouth quivered as she tried to quibble, but no words escaped. 
At long last, Luna let her go. While still holding onto her shoulders, she looked down upon her, eyes pitying enough, but face still stern. “Things are still not okay between you and I. You can only imagine how tired I am of my ugly past rearing up to haunt me. And now the two of you have come into my home to tell me you’ve dredged it up once more, and bade that I’m to additionally feed my story to hungry minds.” 
Twilight looked elsewhere, trying to hide her chagrin. Sunset, though, she made an effort to own up to this. She met Luna’s gesture, placing her own hooves up on those broader blue shoulders. She looked her in the eyes and said: “I’m gonna fix this, Luna. I have to try.”  
“Best of luck. The stars above know I have.” huffed Luna. She grumbled at the thought, but it was the mature thing to say. Was she not a grown mare? “And… I would consider it a gesture of good will that would go quite the long way with me.” 
Regaining some confidence, Twilight added: “We could start with some research back in the Canterlot archives. And maybe I can rearrange the goal of that divination spell to track, in place of detect.” She rubbed her hooves together. “Severity notwithstanding, this is shaping up to be quite the magic challenge.” 
“That is a good idea.” Luna brought one hoof down over the other. “Locating the creature should be our first priority. If it didn’t come straight here for me, it could be anywhere right now.” 



Halfway across town, the blinds stayed shut in the highest room of a building on the corner. Within, a pair of pink hooves sluggishly slid over the edge of mattress which whined in protest. Straightened, overly combed magenta locks swayed over the shoulders and brushed her knees. And when another belch rumbled up, instincts threw her hooves around her wastebasket. 
Luckily, another round of retching yielded nothing this time. That would be ten minutes less she’d have to spend cleaning this thing out. Placing it back at the foot of her bed, Pinkie Pie let out a groan and clutched her stomach. Her entire body felt heavy and sluggish, most of all her guts which felt like this huge lump had weighed down on them. 
Before she was about to lie back, there came a gentle knock at her door. “Pinkie? May I come in?” 
Ponderously, Pinkie pulled the baby blue sheets over shoulders. “Um, sure Mrs. Cake. Just keep your distance.” 
The door creaked in, giving way to a squat blue mare. “Alright, listen, dear. I have tried to be…” she covered her mouth when she saw the bags under Pinkie’s eyes. “Oh no, what’s wrong, hon?” 
“Must be something I ate. It’s disagreeing with me like an overly confident relative at the holiday dinner table.” Pinkie gave a meek laugh. 
The chiding Mrs. Cake had come up here to do left her in a single sigh. “I’ll have Mr. Cake bring you some water; we’d best keep your fluids up. And maybe later, I’ll make you a bowl of soup, if you’re up to it.” 
“Um.” She took a moment to consider the weights both on her mind and guts. “Yeah, no, sure, thank you.” Watching her turn to go, she called out. “Wait, what did you want to say at the start?” 
Hesitant, Mrs. Cake lingered in the frame. She chewed her lip. “Well, not wanting to be rude, I was going to ask when you were going to feel up to working again. I’ve given you a couple days now to sit a spell and really think on things, is all.” 
“Oh,” mewled Pinkie, “right.” 
“I’m really not trying to sound like I don’t care none.” She pursed at her own statement, counting the amount of negatives. “Well, you know what I mean. Ya just can’t sit around and mope forever. That’s no way to move on.”
Solemn, Pinkie nodded slowly along to that sobering tune. “No, you’re right, I’ve sat around feeling sorry for myself long enough. I’ll get back to work first thing tomorrow, boss.” 
A bittersweet smile spread across Mrs. Cake’s lip. “Aw now, there’s no need to be so formal. You may be a Pie, but after living here with us a few years, you’re an honorary Cake in my book, and not just on account of us both having curly pink hair.” She gave a little hoot. “Oh ho, see what I did there? Pie, Cake?”
For her sake, Pinkie Pie forced herself to smile. “Yeah, heh, good one, Mrs. C.” 
As she headed back down, Mrs. Cake left the door cracked ever so slightly ajar. Along the way, she told herself: “Maybe I’m the real Element of Laughter in this household. Ha.” 
Grimacing, Pinkie grumbled herself back down into bed. What little light that pierced her blinds was a bother, so she rolled over to get away from it. Sadly though, once awake she was not usually one to fall back to sleep. Slumber would not find her again this morn. 
Instead, something else did. 
The dull shadow cast across the floor shifted slightly. Which Pinkie found odd, because she hadn’t moved. There came a voice which felt strangely new and old, sounding not unlike her own. “Aw, it’s so nice having a pretend mom, when your real one hasn’t spoken to you in ages.” 
Pinkie’s ears flickered. But the shadow didn’t move. Even still, she said nothing. It was merely another dream, that was all. A dream wracked with the guilt of how poorly she’d handled things with Luna. It wasn’t the first, and it might not be the last. 
“Oh, that reminds me.” cooed the shadow, knowingly. Pinkie convinced herself it couldn’t have been referring to what she was just thinking. But on it went. “It has been a couple days now, hasn’t it? And Luna hasn’t even stopped by to check in, hmm.” 
“She doesn’t owe me her time.” Pinkie spat back. But when she jolted up onto her elbow, the shadow moved with her again. As it should. As it always did, of course, of course. Breathing a little heavier now, she looked around her room. She was all alone. The air was quiet and still, aside from where she displaced it. 
“Dreaming.” whispered Pinkie. The word hung there a moment, absent of any conviction. “I musta been dreaming again.” 
She convinced no one. Least of all herself. Closing her eyes would not be enough. So instead, she pulled the pillow over her face. And a most bizarre sensation overtook her from there; it was as though her essence stretched beyond the feasible means it ought to be capable of. A groan escaped her as her senses seemed to reach out beyond her control. 
“She doing any better?” asked Mr. Cake, unconfident in the response to come. 
“Ugh, no, and in fact she’s sick as a dog now too.” Mrs. Cake sounded practically fed up. “We’d better look after her when we get the chance, dear.” 
Mr. Cake groaned, none too happy about that. “But we have all these orders to fill. Oh, why does there have to be so many fall weddings?” 
“I know, dear, I know. But the poor thing really can’t help it today. And anyhow, she’s promised to try and help us out tomorrow.” 
Is that all you really cared about? My ability to fill out orders? 
“I guess there’s nothing much for it. Let’s get started.” continued the voices Pinkie heard from the opposite side of the building. 
“I just wish she’d quit obsessively combing out that hair of hers.” snorted Mrs. Cake. “Hanging down all straight like that, it just doesn’t look right. Downright creepy is what it is.” 
Jolting upright, Pinkie took her pillow and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a resounding thwump, and she growled out: “Urgh, it’s my hair, I’ll wear it how I want!” 
After a moment, the heat dissipated. Pinkie felt an oddly high amount of regret for a measly pillow. She got up and went to retrieve it, wondering all the while why she’d gotten so upset out of nowhere. “Tired,” she told herself, holding her pillow close, “I’m just tired.”