The Stars Are Right

by Snake Staff


Equinae Siderum

Mare in the Moon: Myth from olden pony times. A powerful pony who wanted to rule Equestria. Defeated by the Elements of Harmony and imprisoned in the moon. Legend has it that on the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will be right, and she will awaken the sleepers to envelop the world in eternal darkness.

“Spike,” Twilight gasped from her copy of Predictions and Prophecies. “Do you know what this means?!”

“…No?” said the little purple dragon, struggling to replace a multitude of discarded books onto a nearby shelf.

“It means we’re all about to be in big trouble!” Twilight half-shouted up at him. “I need you to take a letter, right now please!”

“Okay, okay,” Spike said as he clambered down the white ladder in their palatial tower, producing a quill and paper from somewhere.

“My dearest teacher,” Twilight began almost immediately. “My continuing studies of esoteric branches of magic have led me to conclude that we are on the precipice of disaster! For you see, I have reason to believe that that the mythical Mare in the Moon is in fact Nightmare Moon, and that she is soon to return to Equestria and bring with her an eternity of darkness to choke the very life from our planet.”

“Slow down, slow down,” Spike mumbled, furiously scratching away with his quill.

“Something must be done to avert this awful prophecy,” Twilight continued, ignoring him. “I await your prompt response with the utmost faith in your impeccable wisdom. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Faithful… student…” Spike stopped for a moment to wave his exhausted claw. “Twilight… Sparkle…”

“Now send it, quickly please,” she went on almost the second he had stopped writing.

“What’s with you?” the dragon panted a little, rubbing his claw.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I’m just a little bit concerned that we might all be dead by the day after tomorrow,” Twilight said with a slightly-shaking smile on her face.

“Okay, geez…” Spike grumbled, rolling the paper into a scroll and disintegrating it in his fiery breath. “But you don’t have to be so pushy about it.”

“Look, I’ve been studying Predictions and Prophecies and the Libro Siderum for the last thirty-nine and a half hours, my eyes hurt, I’m running on stimulant potions, and I’m pretty sure I gave myself a migraine,” Twilight sighed, then rubbed her forehead. “So, if I’m a little snappy, I apologize.”

Another all-nighter?” Spike sounded a little concerned. “You know, you really ought to-”

“If you’re about to say that I should take it easy or something in the face of looming apocalypse, then I’d suggest you not.”

“How is working yourself into a hospital bed gonna help the world?”

“Well it’s already uncovered a dire cosmic threat in time to warn the princess, so there’s that.”

“If that’s even real in the first place.”

“Of course, it’s real, why else would it be in these books?”

“As a collection of legends?” Spike hazarded, sitting back against a nearby pillow. “Besides, Princess Celestia is pretty busy getting ready for the Summer Sun Celebration, I don’t know if she’ll even have time to-”

The dragon was interrupted for the second time in the last couple of seconds by a sudden flaming belch bursting right out of his throat. A second scroll, this one neatly wrapped in ribbon and affixed with the royal seal, took shape in front of his face. He snatched it out of the air almost immediately, ignoring the faint grin tugging on the side of the purple unicorn’s mouth.

“My dearest most faithful student Twilight,” Spike began to read, while Twilight turned to look out of one of the tower’s enormous windows onto the impeccable courtyard below. “You know that I value your diligence, and that I trust you completely.”

Twilight couldn’t resist holding her chin up a bit.

“But you simply must stop reading those dusty old books,” Spike went on, ignoring the immediate gasp. “I assure you that there is absolutely no reason whatsoever to worry about this ‘Nightmare Moon’, and I ask that you please put the issue from your mind.”

“What? How can she just ask me to forget about the fate of Equestria like that?”

“My dear Twilight,” Spike just kept reading, as if in answer, “there’s more to a young pony’s life than staying cooped up in a tower studying esoteric lore and obscure prophecies. To help you see that, I’m sending you to supervise preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration in this year’s location, Ponyville.”

“What.”

“And I have an even more essential task for you: make some friends!” Spike finished with a nod and a smile, before frowning a little. “P.S. Spike, ‘precipice’ is not spelled p-r-e-s-i-p-i-s-s.”

Twilight groaned.


Not long afterwards, a pair of white pegasi dressed in the ceremonial armor of the Royal Guard landed in a small village square, pulling a golden chariot with a sour-looking purple unicorn and a rather more excited dragon. Twilight nodded politely at her two drivers before immediately turning off towards her first destination, trotting at a brisk pace.

“Come on, Twilight,” Spike said from behind her, just hopping off the chariot himself. “Hold up just a minute! You don’t have to rush it!”

“Yes I do,” she replied without even looking behind her. “Because the fate of Equestria doesn’t depend on how well I check up on the Summer Sun Celebration or make friends, but it does depend on us having a sun by next week.”

“All I’m saying is you should at least try taking it easy,” Spike was jogging to keep up at this point. “Try talking to some of the ponies around here. Maybe they’ve got something interesting to say.”

“Fine, if it’ll make you happy,” Twilight mentally grumbled, eying the first pony in vague proximity, a pink mare with a poofy, even pinker mane.

“Hello,” she said in her best polite tone, “I’m Twilight Sparkle. I’m new to town and-”

Her words were cut off when the other pony flashed a broad, pearly white grin, and started giggling. It was a low, droning thing only just audible on the wind. As Twilight slowed down, a little confused, the mare just kept walking. Her blue eyes remained locked on Twilight as she continued to walk and giggle without pause, head turning to keep the visitor from Canterlot in her sights until she had disappeared between two nearby buildings. In all that time she spoke not a word.

“Well that was…” Spike, much like Twilight, had paused to stare at the location she had vanished into.

“Let’s just keep moving and get this over with,” Twilight said, resuming her trot.


“Alright, per the Summer Sun Celebration Official Overseer Checklist, our first stop should be banquet preparations at Sweet Apple Acres,” Twilight was saying a few minutes later, as the pair neared the edge of town. “So, we just have to find somepony called ‘Applejack’ and confirm with her that all the food is looking good and – ew,” the unicorn groaned as she found one of her forehooves was suddenly buried several inches in mud. “Was it supposed to have been raining here?”

“Let’s see here…” Spike looked over the weather schedule while Twilight concentrated on scraping the wet gunk from her foreleg. “Nope. Says here Ponyville hasn’t had any rain scheduled for the past five days.”

“So, where’s the mud puddle coming from?” Twilight wondered, stepping gingerly around it and peering around. “I don’t see any streams around here, there’s no lake on the map… ground water, maybe?”

Spike shrugged.

That first puddle proved to be far from the last as the duo continued down the dirt road on Ponyville’s outskirts. The light brown soil appeared more and more blotched with deep brown, almost blackish mud more and more the further they went, forcing both to step very carefully through ever-shrinking patches of dry earth. The grasses and weeds beside the road became progressively more overgrown as they went, many sprouting from dirty puddles that grew steadily in number. It wasn’t that long of a walk, but the effort required to keep dry made it seem like much more. When they came to the edge of a dilapidated picket fence with faint traces of white and an uncomfortable smell of rotting wood, the pony and the dragon both looked at one another.

“Are we… sure this is the right address?” Spike asked.

“That’s what the list says,” Twilight replied, quintuple-checking it just to be sure and finding the words stubbornly refusing to change. She looked back up again. “Maybe somepony was paid off?”

Beyond the sodden timber that marked the “farm’s” boundary lay little less than a sprawling swamp. Row after row of deep, dark green trees hosting crimson fruit stood amidst deep channels overflowing with dark water, gentle waves splashing listlessly at roots buried deep into the mud. Countless twisted branches sprouted outward in every direction, looping and intertwining, casting a deep and abiding shadow on the soaking orchard below, such that it was impossible to see very far into it. There were no buildings in this farm – or at least none either Spike or Twilight could see.

“Remind me not to eat anything at the celebration,” Spike muttered, eyeing a faint ripple that briefly disturbed the water’s surface.

“Hello?” Twilight called out, to no immediate response. Grimacing, she took several unpleasant steps through the deep brown mud, all the way to the outer edge of the fence. “Hellooooo!” she called again, voice echoing through the trees. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, the official inspector for the Summer Sun Celebration! I’m looking to speak to a Miss…” she checked the list, “Applejack?”

From the interior of the swamp there came a sudden sound of splashing, followed by the squish squish squish of hooves tramping through mud. For a few seconds it was nothing but that, slowly growing ever louder in perfect sync with the beats of Twilight’s heart. Then, from around a tree on the edge of her vision stepped a pale orange pony in a prominent brown hat.

“Well howdy doo… Miss Twilight,” the distant figure called back. “I’m Applejack. A pleasure makin’ yer acquaintance.”

“Right…” Twilight nodded with an unpleasant grimace on her face.

As the other pony tramped forward through the muck, more of her features became visible. Applejack’s mud-covered coat was noticeably paler than that of most ponies, looking waterlogged and almost clammy even at a distance. Pony eyes were already larger relative to the size of their heads than most other species, but Applejack’s appeared slightly larger than even that. She had what was clearly supposed to be a friendly grin on her face, though the hairs on the back of the unicorn’s neck were standing up straight nevertheless.

“We here at Sweet Apple Acres sure do like makin’ new friends…” the orange pony continued, leaning slightly on the other side of the fence. It buckled noticeably. “So, what can I do you for?”

“I’m just here to check on the status of the preparations for tomorrow’s Summer Sun Celebration,” she said quickly. “Everything going alright with the food?”

“Oh, you bet on it,” Applejack said with a wink, somewhat slower than most ponies would do it. “Our Anna Apples we grow here are the finest in Equestria, lovingly watered straight outta the underground river runnin’ right below this here farm.”

“Uh huh,” the unicorn nodded.

“In fact, the river runs all the way out to the sea, not too far north of Manehatten. So it’s like a little bridge between us and the Orange branch back there,” the orange pony chuckled. “But I’m wanderin’ off the subject. We’re all set and rarin’ to go, feedin’ Ponyville and the princess besides! D’ya fancy tryin’ a taste of our home cookin’ while you’re here, Miss Twilight?”

“No thank you,” Twilight shook her head, taking a step back. “I’m very busy today, so I’ll just take your word for it.”

“But you’ll be missin’ out on some of the best grub this side of Canterlot and a chance to meet my family,” Applejack frowned, and there came the sound of splashing from somewhere behind her. “They always love to meet new ponies in town.”

“Heh heh, I’m sure they’re lovely folks, I just…” Twilight struggled momentarily. “I just have so much else to do to get ready, I’m afraid I can’t stay for even another minute!”

“Are ya sure, sugarcube? I-” Applejack leaned a bit further onto the fence. The waterlogged timber promptly snapped, plunging her right down into the mud. Her face showed no signs of discomfort.

“Well between fixing that fence and getting ready for the big event I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your plate and don’t need me bugging you, so…” Twilight snatched Spike up in her magic. “Bye!”

With that, the duo went right back down the muddy road from whence they had come at a decidedly brisker pace, ignoring the goop splashing onto fur and scales. It wasn’t until she stopped feeling an unblinking gaze fixed to the back of her neck more than half a mile hence that Twilight began to slow down.


A good few minutes and quite a bit of trotting later, and Twilight was still trying to get the sludge-like dark mud out of some spots in her coat. The stuff was tough, sticky, and even magic struggled to get a good grip on it.

“What’s next?” she asked Spike with a sour expression her face, the purple glow of her horn wrestling with the goop stuck to her upper chest.

“Let’s see,” he looked over at the list that she had given him. “There’s supposed to be a pegasus pony named Rainbow Dash clearing the skies.”

Twilight glanced up to see a number of white clouds hanging lazily in the sky. “Well then she’s clearly not-”

“Watch out!” came a sudden voice from nowhere.

Twilight was suddenly struck from the side with all the force of a speeding train. She skidded painfully across the group in a bewildering tangle of limbs before coming to a rough and unpleasant stop face down in another mud puddle. She could feel that there was another pony jumbled up on top of her. She attempted to raise her head, only for a hoof to shove it right back into the mud.

“Keep your head low,” the same voice whispered. “They’ll see you.”

“Mmmmph!” Twilight gurgled from her place amidst the mud.

“They’re everywhere around here, you can’t be too careful. Especially as a newbie,” the other pony continued to hold Twilight’s face under the surface. “Once they’re onto you, they’re a pain and a half to shake.”

“Can she breathe under there?” came the sound of Spike’s voice.

“You gotta learn to think smart if you wanna make it in this town,” the voice went on, ignoring both the question and Twilight’s flailing. It leaned into the unicorn’s ear, as if to whisper a great secret. “I know everypony in town, so I know you’re new here. There’s some weird stuff that goes on around here, and I mean really weird. You’ve gotta pay close attention to what’s going on around you at all times.”

“Mmrghle blurgle!” came Twilight’s increasingly frantic reply.

“I’ve been investigating this place for years, nopony knows all the crazy stuff that goes on behind closed doors like I do. So if you wanna make it back to wherever you came from in one piece you’ve gotta know that-”

“MMRGH!” Twilight shouted, right as a bubble of lavender energy burst from her horn.

Sweeping aside everything all around her, the magical barrier flung the attacker off, tore a hole into the ground, and splattered mud all across the surrounding square. A distant shriek came from somepony else, but Twilight was too busy gasping for air to care.

“…Finally,” she wheezed, taking in large, precious gulps of sweet, sweet oxygen.

“You coulda just asked me to get off, you know,” said the voice from a few yards away.

Twilight turned around and spit mud out of her mouth. Getting back on her hooves was a pale blue pegasus mare with a prominent rainbow-covered mane, covered in mud herself but apparently uncaring. No sooner had she recovered her hooves then she was on the ground in half-crouch, looking tense and poised like a coiled spring, or a cat ready to pounce.

“Rainbow Dash, I presume?” Twilight said, through gritted teeth.

“How did you know my name? Wait, don’t tell me,” the pegasus went on, “it’s the mane, isn’t it? Everypony always recognizes my mane. That’s why nopony is supposed to see me when we first meet.”

“I saw you the whole time,” Spike pointed out.

“Dragons don’t count. They don’t like them.”

“None of that is the point,” Twilight growled, spitting out more clumps of disgusting goop. “Point the first: why did you just come out of nowhere and bury me in the mud? Point the second: who is ‘they’ that you’re rambling about? Point the third: you’re supposed to be clearing the sky of clouds.”

“I can’t tell you who they are until I’m sure you’re not one of them, duh.” Rainbow’s eyes shifted from side to side. “There’s already so many of ‘em around, just saying their name will draw their attention.”

“Okay, what do they do?”

“Can’t tell you that either, might blow my sources’ cover.”

“So you came out of nowhere to pin me in a mud puddle to warn me to be careful about somepony you refuse to identify who might do something you won’t tell me about?”

Rainbow paused. “It doesn’t sound as cool when you say it like that. I like to think of it as getting you prepared to survive.”

“For what?” Twilight was tempted to say, before shaking her head and deciding that it didn’t matter. “Be that as it may… you have another job, don’t you?” She looked up meaningfully. “One involving those fluffy white clouds hanging overhead?”

“I can’t get rid of the clouds right now,” the pegasus scoffed. “If I did then where would my cover be while I’m investigating?”

“Investigating what?”

“The weird stuff, what else? Applejack keeps telling me that it’s all in my head, but I know for a fact that the Disciples of the Faceless Smile are out there and…” Rainbow Dash suddenly put a hoof over her mouth, wide-eyed.

“You know something,” Twilight said with a slight gleam in her eye, beckoning Rainbow Dash closer. The pegasus took a few wary steps forward, but that was all. “I bet they can use the clouds for cover too.”

“No way,” Rainbow looked up. “Couldn’t be. I’d notice.”

“Or would you?” Twilight asked slyly. “They could be up there right now, watching your every move, staying three steps ahead, and you wouldn’t know a thing.” She gestured up at the dozens upon dozens of clouds hanging at every level of sky. “I mean, really, how hard would it be to set a tail on you and well…” she smirked meaningfully.

The blue pegasus eyed the skies nervously.

“You never know with weirdos,” Twilight went on, “they always do just what you least expect them to. I know that if I were one of them, I’d have a sky stalker creeping right up on-”

Rainbow Dash didn’t so much seem to take off as burst from the ground in an explosion of color. One moment she was crouched, looking around carefully, the next she was shooting up through the air just as she had shot down at Twilight. The pegasus tore through the surrounding clouds at a breakneck pace, punching through three, four, or even five of them in a row on a single pass. The blue sky overhead was getting more and more blue with each passing second, Celestia’s sun shining bright and clear over the warm afternoon.

“Huh,” Spike saddled up next to Twilight. “Nice one.”

“Ponies in this town I swear,” she huffed, and turned away.


Not too long after that, the intrepid duo made its way into Ponyville’s fair town hall, in search of the mare responsible for the décor. When they opened the doors, the interior was… unexpected.

The circular inside of the town hall was decorated primarily with flowing banners draped across the walls. Starting near to the front entrance were banners so dark a shade of blue that they were almost pitch black, twinkling with occasional embedded diamond or patch of white sprinkled here and there. As one circled the room the blues got progressively lighter and lighter on both the left and the right, hints of red and orange creeping into their distant corners. Then, as they rose towards the second-floor balcony opposite the main entrance, blues faded into ever brighter shades of red, orange, and yellow, until a wreathe of golden-red cloth surrounded the balcony like a crown. Bouquets of flowers were artfully displayed in the curvature around it, curled slightly towards the focal point to give the impression that they too were rising to greet the dawn.

“Beautiful,” Spike breathed.

“Yes, beautiful,” Twilight looked around. “It looks like the decorations are in good hooves, so at least this one shouldn’t take too long.”

“Not that,” Spike pointed, “her.”

Twilight glanced up at the stage, where a pristine white pony with a perfectly coiffed indigo mane had her back to them, examining various strands of ribbon with a raised eyebrow. While Spike gawped so hard she could practically see hearts in his eyes, Twilight just continued forward, eyeing the décor as she went. It was definitely gorgeous, carrying a real sense of movement and progression as one’s eyes approached the focal point of it all – certainly appropriate for a ruler of princess Celestia’s stature. And yet… and yet something just seemed a little off with it. The way that gemstone constellation was laid out, looking almost like some geomantic pattern she couldn’t identify. Those funny, fuzzy shapes in the background of the blackness. What were they? Was she imagining them? The way the darkness seemed to seethe and stretch in the transition pieces, looking at some points as though it were a kind of living thing. Weird. After a moment, Twilight shook her head to clear it of unnecessary distractions and approached the mare directly.

“Good afternoon,” she said, as pleasantly as she could.

“Hmmm?” the mare on stage turned immediately to face them, setting the ribbons to the side. “Ah, a new pony in town,” she smiled warmly. “Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Rarity,” she gave a slight bow. “Now how can I… help… you…” she trailed off, staring down at the frazzled and mud-stained unicorn.

“I’m just here to check up on the decorations as the official inspector, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Out of my hair?” the white unicorn’s nose twitched. “Out of my hair? But darling, what about your hair? It’s been positively ruined!”

“Traipsing about this town has been… something of a challenge,” Twilight admitted.

“Let me guess: somepony had you going out by the Apple family farm?” Rarity’s lip curled at her own mention of the name. “You ought to have come to me first, my dear, I know just how to protect from their revolting lack of common hygiene.”

“It’s alright, it’s no big deal,” Twilight brushed it off. “I just have to-”

“No big deal? No big deal?!” the other unicorn’s eyes flared. “To have a pony, an inspector for the princess herself no less, walking around town tarnished by the grime is an insult to beauty that I won’t let stand.” Rarity’s horn lit up blue. “You’re coming with me.”

“What, no!” Twilight protested as she was suddenly gripped by a far stronger telepathic aura than she had anticipated. “Stop, please!” She looked around desperately. “Spike, help!”

He did not.


A few minutes and a thorough soaking in something pink and oily later, and Twilight’s coat was not only sparkly clean but also smelled faintly of tulips and something else sweet she couldn’t identify. Now the princess’ protégé sat in the center stage of an elaborate and (in her opinion) rather frilly boutique with three mirrors surrounding her.

“Now, you just put a dab of this on once a month and I guarantee you’ll never have to worry about dirt getting into your precious mane ever again,” Rarity was saying, using magic to run a comb coated in something that smelled strongly of incense through the back of Twilight’s hair. “I call it my Elixir of Life, the perfect thing to keep that wonderful mane of yours shiny, happy, and healthy! And no worries, it’ll resist any shampoo you care to use, so don’t be afraid to give your hair just the relaxing scrubbing down it deserves.” She set the bottle down beside Twilight while she worked on styling her hair. “Consider it a gift from me to you, and an apology on behalf of all Ponyville for the transgressions of some of our inhabitants.”

“Thanks,” Twilight murmured.

In truth, the effect wasn’t bad. Her deep purple mane appeared far more lustrous than she had ever seen it before, silky and smooth to the touch, even twinkling like it had been threaded with little gemstones in some areas. It moved easily when she turned her head, while perfectly retaining the style Rarity had given it with that silver and pearl comb of hers. A vainer side of Twilight even noticed it now bore some similarities to Princess Celestia’s own magically infused mane.

“Now that we’ve finally restored balance to your lovely hair, it’s time for the main event,” Rarity set aside her comb and squealed a little, clapping her front two hooves together. “Cloooothing!”

With a twitch of her head, the seamstress, shopmistress, manestylist, interior decorator, and artist extraordinaire summoned three long racks filled to the absolute brim with elaborate ladies’ outfits from the rear of her shop. Each one was undoubtedly an elaborate masterwork, featuring styles from neoclassical to modernist in a bewildering explosion of color and adornment. Staring right at them, Twilight could barely see how one color transitioned to another, the threads seeming more to emanate directly from one another than to have been stitched together in any discernable way. And the patterns were hard to recognize – if that is there were patterns to the ebb and flow of color and shape tracing its way up and down these dresses. It was hard to tell, considering her brain kept insisting that the details were different whenever she focused on one for very long.

“These are… a bit unorthodox,” Twilight, hardly a fashionista herself, noted.

“I strive for creativity in all of my work,” the white unicorn replied. “And I take inspiration wherever I can find it, be that in the soaring vaults of the cosmos above or the deepest recesses of the realm of dreams. You may question my stylistic choices at first, but once you have one of my dresses on, you’ll find nothing else can compare! And just for being such a doll, once we find the best one for you it’s yours. No charge.”

“Thanks for all of this, really,” Twilight smiled weakly. “You’ve been really generous to me, but I can’t just accept free tailored clothing on top of everything else. And besides, I still have work to do elsewhere, so-”

“You seem to be under the impression that you have a choice,” Rarity cut her off from where she was digging amidst one of the racks. She looked up and met Twilight’s gaze with her unblinking blue eyes. “Let me correct you.” She took a few steps forward. “You will try on my designs. We will find one that suits you just perfectly.” Her face was now only a few inches from the cringing Twilight. “And you Will. Look. Fabulous!” Her eyes were boring straight into the purple unicorn’s soul. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Indubitably,” Twilight squeaked.

“Then let’s get started,” Rarity grinned.


Several hours later, an exhausted-looking Twilight left the boutique with a perfectly wrapped gift box containing a pristinely pressed and folded spring ensemble in yellow, white, and pink. Spike rode atop her back, staring wistfully behind them as Rarity waved goodbye.

“Isn’t she just… perfect?” he sighed.

“Eyes on the prize, Casanova,” Twilight reminded him. “What’s next on the list?”

“Uh… music it says here,” the dragon answered. “That’s the last thing on the list, come to think of it.”

“Great,” Twilight nodded. “So, we just need to find…”

“Fluttershy.”

“And then we’ll finally be done with this crazy day,” she nodded with satisfaction. “So where would they be practicing?”

“Well, it’s a bird choir, so maybe in the park?” Spike hazarded.

“Good thinking,” Twilight said, as she set off in a trot.

Getting to Ponyville’s tiny municipal park was only a matter of a short walk, thankfully without any freaks dropping out of the sky this time. The tiny grove had little to mark it out from the rustic rural setting already present – green was everywhere, carefully tended and growth managed by the local Weather Patrol. It didn’t take too long before the two of them caught wind of a chorus of tweets. As they made their way towards the source of the song, it was interrupted by the sudden presence of a horrible, wet gurgling noise halfway between a choking cat and boiling mud. The two of them looked at each other, Spike hopped off of Twilight’s back, and both took off at a brisk jog.

They had only made it a hundred yards or so before clearing a row of bushes surrounding a lone tree on a small hill. There was a yellow pegasus pony on the other side of the clearing with her back to them, bent low over another bush.

“I’m sorry, but that’s final,” she was saying. “You can’t be in this one. You scare all the little birdies too much.”

There was another gruesome gurgle from whatever she was talking to, sounding oddly… disappointed?

“Now run along back to your mama, we’ve got to finish up our last rehearsal for tomorrow morning,” she continued. “If you’re a good little boy, I’ll take you for another trip down the river.”

There came the sound of a wet hiss from that distant bush, followed by rapid scampering in the opposite direction. A few seconds later a panicked mob of squirrels scattered in all directions, though the pegasus had already turned her back and didn’t seem to notice. Instead she trotted back towards the little tree on the hill, looking around expectantly.

“It’s alright everyone,” she called out softly. “Our little buddy is gone now, so won’t you please come back so we can finish this up?”

“Hello?” Twilight asked, stepping out of the bush.

The yellow pony started, head darting to look behind her as fast as a meerkat’s.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just here to check up on the music for the Summer Sun Celebration,” the unicorn took a few steps forward, trying her best to smile. “It sounded so beautiful; you were doing a great job.”

The pink-maned pegasus drifted slowly towards the ground but kept her eyes away from Twilight and said nothing.

“I should introduce myself,” she went on after a moment. “I’m Twilight Sparkle. I was just wondering if you needed any help rounding your bird choir back up.”

The other pony continued to look away and at the grounded, shuffling her hooves a little in silence.

“Uh…” Twilight took a few steps backwards up the hill, trying to give the strange quiet one some space. “Do you care to give me your name?”

Her strange new acquaintance mumbled something completely inaudible.

“Could you speak up a little?” Twilight backed off even more, to the point where she was at the base of the little tree and its wide-open branches.

All that earned her was an even less audible murmur, the poor thing below refusing to even make any eye contact.

“Riiiight…” Twilight grinned feebly, then looked up as a flashy vermillion cardinal fluttered over her head, settling down on one of the branches. “Is this one of your birds?” she tried. “Or do you need any help getting them back together?”

Slowly, with clear reluctance, the other pony shook her head without ever looking up from the dirt.

“Alrighty then,” Twilight shook her own head and sighed. “Come on Spike, I think she’s got this taken care of.”

“Roger,” he said, stepping out of the bush as more returning birds flew overhead.

Once again, the little yellow mare’s head turned on a dime to face the newcomer.

“A baby dragon!” she squealed in sudden, inexplicable delight. She leapt into the air in a surprising burst of speed, gliding right over to Spike in a heartbeat. “I’ve never seen a baby dragon before.” She had her forehooves on her cheeks. “He’s soooo cute!”

“Heh, you can say that again,” Spike grinned.

“And you speak Equish!” she had a broad smile on her face. “That’s so wonderful, most of the creatures I meet can’t speak a word of it, but you can!”

“Come on Spike,” Twilight beckoned from up on the hill, “We’ve spent enough time out here, the sun’s already going down! It’s time to be heading home!”

“Alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled just a little.

“Your name’s Spike, huh?” the yellow one said as she followed along.

“That’s me.”

“That’s a wonderful name,” she cooed. “My name is Fluttershy.”

“Nice to meet ya Ms. Fluttershy,” Spike said, as he climbed up onto Twilight’s back. “You had some pretty nice birds there from what I heard.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she blushed a little. “They’re the real talent, not me. I just help them to see that. But anyway, I’ve never seen a talking dragon before.”

“You’ll talk to him but not to me?” Twilight turned her head to ask.

Fluttershy immediately went silent again, looking away from the both of them. After a moment, Twilight looked up at Spike and cleared her throat meaningfully.

“So why will you talk to me and not her?” the baby dragon asked for her. “I mean, I know I’m easier on the eyes and have this alluring voice. And I know Twilight’s a bit fussy and a bit grouchy, but she’s not so bad once you get to know her and everything.”

Amidst his words, nopony noticed a few strands of Twilight’s shimmering mane wrap suddenly around an incautious bluebird’s beak and leg, stifling him before he could so much as twitter in alarm.

“Well, it’s just that I do love all kinds of creatures, but…” Fluttershy hesitated. “I’ve always gotten along better with ones that aren’t ponies, you know?” She glanced back up at Spike for just a second. “So, I guess it’s just easier to talk to you.”

“Heh, well I am easy on the eyes,” Spike grinned from where he sat. “And I’ve got plenty of stories to tell, if you’ve got the time.”

“Do you?” Fluttershy’s gaze brightened. “Oooh, that would be so interesting, I’ve never gotten to talk to a dragon about their life before. I’ve never gotten to talk to a dragon at all before.”

“Well feel free to tag along then,” Spike answered, leaning back against Twilight’s neck. “Whoah, this thing’s pretty comfy.”

“My mane?” Twilight asked as she began to walk away, only just noticing how the dragon seemed lighter than usual.

“Yeah, it’s crazy smooth and soft. That Rarity sure knows her stuff,” Spike swooned a bit. “And I like the feathers too.”

“Feathers?” she raised an eyebrow.

“These,” Spike lifted something from behind Twilight’s right ear.

The purple unicorn looked up and saw a flaring fascinator of brilliant blue feathers, woven through with a filament of gold so thin that it almost seemed physically impossible that they were held together at all.

“That’s been on my head this whole time?” Twilight blinked. “I didn’t even notice her putting that on.”

“It’s woven right in between the hairs of your mane,” Spike nodded. “I think it looks pretty good too, adds a bit of pop to the purple.”

“Whatever,” Twilight shrugged, and continued walking right back towards the library, Spike relaxing against her back and Fluttershy right on their tail.


“And that’s the story of my entire life,” Spike said to Fluttershy several minutes later.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’ve managed to achieve so much in so little time.”

“Heh heh, yeah,” Spike looked at his claws. “I’m pretty amazing.”

“I’ll say, much more amazing than me.”

“I think you’re pretty great too,” he offered. “Maybe you’ve got some interesting stories to tell?”

“N-No, I don’t think so…” Fluttershy shook her head. “I’m just a little pony who loves animals and lives all out by her lonesome. And besides, the dark young don’t like me talking about them. They’re very shy.”

“What’s a dark young?” Spike asked.

“I just told you, they don’t like me talking about them,” Fluttershy frowned a little. “It’s not nice to pry.”

“Oh, sorry,” the dragon nodded.

“Well look at that!” Twilight suddenly butted in. “We’re here!”

“So, you’re staying in our library?” Fluttershy looked up at the great enchanted tree. “Do you know-”

“Sorry, but I have things I’ve gotta do and frankly I should have been done with this nonsense hours ago,” Twilight just kept speaking. “So thanks for the lovely conversation with my baby dragon, great work the birds, goodnight!”

With that, Twilight rushed inside slammed the door in Fluttershy’s face.

“Rude much?” Spike huffed a little, almost invisible in the total darkness of the unlit library

“Peace at last.” Twilight breathed a content sigh. “Now I can finally get back to the important work of stopping Nightmare Moon with no further interruptions.”

A blue candle flickered on.

“Me and my big mouth,” Twilight groaned, face in hoof.

The next moment a pair of the blue flames sprung into life on either side of the original. Then two more beside those. And another pair. And another. And another still. And then one more pair after that. All told, thirteen ponies stood in a half circle around the opposite side of the library from the unicorn. Each held a pitch-black candle burning with sapphire-blue light, though they cast far less of it into the surrounding darkness than they ought to. Each pony was wrapped tightly in a hooded black robe that concealed their body completely, along with an eyeless, nose-less white mask across their faces with a prominent toothless grin displayed in all black.

“Surprise, student of the sun,” said the very first pony to light a candle in a very high-pitched voice evidently trying to sound serious. “We are known as the Followers of the Unseen Smile. We saw that you had arrived in our humble village and-”

“Not interested,” Twilight cut her off. “You and your band of Nightmare Night rejects get out of my library this instant.”

“You do not comprehend what you are dealing-”

“I’m really not in the mood for this,” Twilight’s horn glowed and a dampening spell extinguished all thirteen creepy candles in a single instant, plunging the library back into complete blackness. “I have important work to do, so you childish idiots get out of here and leave me to my books or I’m calling the cops.”

There was the sound of somepony taking a few steps, followed by a slight yelp and a thud. Twilight rolled her eyes and flicked on the light switch.

“Tailor your robes a bit higher next time,” she advised the pony lying sprawled out on the ground. “Having the hem below your hooves might do more to conceal your identities if I knew or cared who any of you were in the first place, but it’s not very practical for walking.” The unicorn opened the door behind her. “Now get out of my house before I get the police involved.”

The twelve other ponies looked as one to the single individual in the center, though how they could see without any eyeholes in their masks was anypony’s guess. That apparent lead figure seemed to consider it a bit, then gave a barely perceptible nod. In unison, save for a few hiking up their robes a bit, the thirteen ponies turned and made for the exit.

“That’s it, move it along,” Twilight waved the line of dark figures past her, out into the newborn night. “Busy important Canterlot mare here, got no time for ridiculous yokel customs. Out you go.” She beckoned one that seemed to be slowing at the back of the line. “Shoo.”

“Jerk,” the masked pony muttered as he shuffled by.

Twilight slammed the door in his face.


The moment she had been dreading arrived sooner than Twilight had expected, much sooner than she had wanted. Her precious hours of nighttime before the Summer Sun Celebration itself kicked off had been fruitful enough, and she arrived in the town hall quite well-prepared. She didn’t know what, exactly was going to happen – heck, her rational mind admitted she had no reason whatsoever to suppose that, if Nightmare Moon really existed, she would be here at all. But she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something even creepier and weirder than everything she had seen so far in this crazy town was about to happen.

The latest in personal shielding spells courtesy of her brother. Spells of fire, of light, of banishment learned at the hooves of Princess Celestia. Healing incantations and biomancy that could keep flesh running far past its natural limits. But those were just the ordinary tools in her arsenal – she had a few esoteric cards up her nonexistent sleeve as well. Quantum erasers pulled from the palace’s forbidden section, capable of unmaking the very idea of the target. Limited temporal control spells. Dimensional sundering techniques. If a corrupt alicorn came knocking tonight, Twilight felt as reasonably sure as sure could be that she could take it.

By the time that she got there, the town hall was packed. There was Applejack, pale and clammy as ever, hunched over a broad buffet table and chatting it up with the weirdo Rainbow Dash. Twilight couldn’t help but notice that despite the ample quantities of food piled up across the table, very few ponies were actually touching the dark fruity dishes, and most of those had a similar pallor to the farm pony’s. There too was Rarity, dressed elaborately in a flowing gown of what seemed at first glance to be pure starlight trapped in dark blue thread, a tiara of delicate gemstones slowly orbiting her head. She was sipping at something blue and faintly fluorescent in a fluted glass, occasionally bandying gossip and compliments with passing mares. Twilight could see Fluttershy’s bird choir high above, awaiting the arrival of her mentor, though of the yellow pegasus herself there was no immediate sign. Probably hiding somewhere. She even recognized amidst the crowd that weird pink pony that had silently smiled at her earlier in the day. Unfortunately.

Taking a swig from a hip flask of her own, Twilight settled back near a chair to await the main event. A few ponies attempted to talk to her along the way but found themselves politely ignored until they scampered off. Fortunately for her, she didn’t have to wait all that long. The yellow pegasus appeared, the birds began to chirp their chorus, and a brown, grey-maned mare made an appearance on stage.

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” the mare began, “as mayor of Ponyville, it is my great pleasure to announce the beginning of the Summer Sun Celebration! In just a few short moments our town will witness the sacred magic of the sunrise and celebrate the longest day of the year!” she cleared her throat.

Through one of the building’s overhead windows, Twilight caught a glimpse of a flare in the sky. A number of stars burned suddenly bright in a great celestial pattern the scorched the eyes for just a fraction of a second, and then the alignment passed. She took another sip from her flask for good measure.

“And now,” the mayor continued speaking, apparently not having noticed, “it is my great honor to introduce to you the ruler of our land, the very pony who gives us the sun and the moon each and every day. The good, the wise, the bringer of harmony to all of Equestria…” she held the moment, “Princess Celestia!”

The curtains overhead parted. Everypony gasped. Twilight spit out her whiskey.

It was… it was… sweet Celestia, it was horrific. Twilight had spent far more time in the presence of alicorns then most ponies by a large margin. She knew well of their flawless grace, their ethereal beauty, the way they simply radiated power and assurance, fortifying the minds of all those around them by their mere presence. This thing… this thing was all of that turned on its head.

Where Celestia was statuesque and well-built, the thing on the balcony was an emaciated horror pulled from the depths of corruption. A bleached, rail-thin skeleton poked through dark blue skin worn to the texture of beaten leather. The feathers on the creature’s wings were long gone, leaving grotesque flaps of burnt skin to hang loosely from bent, cracked bones. A tangle of knotted, brittle mane dangled unevenly off the back of the half-exposed skull like some loathsome creeper vine. But the worst part were the eyes. Or rather the hollow sockets in the monster’s face where there ought to have been eyes. Instead there were nothing but two wide orbs of utter blackness, staring out at the crowd below with the malicious hunger of the infinite void.

There were shouts. Screams. Ponies panicked, some fleeing, some cowering beneath the furniture or behind their fellows. Most, though, simply stared. Twilight swallowed an entire hip flask of whisky in a single great chug, ignoring the burning sensation rushing down her throat. She readied her magic for the greatest clash of her life, pawed the ground, and waited for the invader to make the first move.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

It took about thirty seconds or so for the screaming to quiet down. Twilight expected a move from the obviously undead abomination staring down at them all. A speech. A curse. An attempt to rip out their succulent souls for devouring. Anything really.

But no. The monster just stared.

Then, without any warning or preamble, the doors behind them suddenly burst open.

“I’m sorry I’m late everypony!” her mentor’s familiar voice broke the creature’s spell. “I was just out checking for something important, I hope I didn’t delay… you… too… much…” Twilight managed to turn her head around in time to see Princess Celestia and three newly-arrived Royal Guards staring back up at the hideous abomination in her rightful place. “Huh,” she muttered. “So that’s where it ended up.”

The next moment there was a flash of golden light, and Celestia and her entourage appeared atop the overhead balcony, just behind the monster. Which still didn’t react, even when the princess seized it in her telekinetic aura.

“I’m so sorry for your distress,” she said, as her guards hastily worked to pull the curtains closed behind her. “I’m afraid there’s been a… minor incident that requires a few minutes of my attention. But don’t worry, everything is alright and the Summer Sun Celebration should commence shortly.”

With that, she disappeared into the curtains, leaving a baffled town to stare up at her.

The chatter, so briefly silence, now returned at twice the volume as everypony competed to propose the wildest explanation of what had just happened, and what was happening behind the curtain. Twilight didn’t care for any of that – she was already halfway to the stairs. She raced up right past the oddly serene-looking Rarity, bolted up the steps, and burst through the door behind the upper balcony.

“Twilight!” Celestia smiled at her panting, slightly tipsy student. “It’s wonderful to see you here! I’m sorry again about the spectacle, I hope it wasn’t too disturbing for you.”

“N-N-No…” Twilight managed.

It had been, of course. Pretty damned disturbing if she was to be entirely honest. But what was more disturbing was seeing the wilted corpse of an ancient alicorn – for what else could it be – propped up directly in front of the sun princess. Her mentor’s horn was aglow, and even a single glance told her that the spell was far more than mere telekinesis.

“I hope you’ve had a good time while you were here,” Celestia went on cheerfully. “Had some laughs, learned something interesting, maybe even made a few friends along the way?”

“Spent… spent…” Twilight shook her head a bit. “I spent time… preparing for danger…”

Her teacher frowned. “I recall specifically telling you to put that from your mind.” She sighed. “Please tell me you didn’t spend all of your time here just thinking about some ridiculous prophecy instead of getting out of your comfort zone.”

“But… but…” Twilight stuttered. “But… Nightmare Moon… the prophecy… my book said…”

“Twilight,” Celestia said softly, as if speaking to a particularly ignorant foal. “My sister here spent one thousand years stranded on an astronomical body with no food, water, or atmosphere, constantly blasted with intense stellar radiation.” The princess’ horn continued to glow its soft gold, silvery runes of a language Twilight couldn’t even begin to make out inscribing themselves on leathery flesh or even being spontaneously scrimshawed onto bleached bone. “She died, obviously.”

“So… there never was any real danger?”

“What did you think I meant when I told you not to worry?” Celestia raised an eyebrow.

“Well I… I thought…” Twilight struggled for words, brain scrambling to find some combination that didn’t look like she was accusing her mentor of gross negligence and failing miserably.

“I take the security of Equestria and my subjects very seriously, you know,” the white alicorn went on, as the silvery runes finished inscribing themselves on the body. “I’d hardly put it at risk, even to get my sister back.”

“But how can you get her back if she’s, you know… dead?”

“In strange aeons even death may die,” Celestia said. “I’ve been preparing for this day for a long time.”

“Isn’t necromancy illegal?” Twilight asked, as the carcass began to shine an uncomfortable shade of bluish-green.

“Not when I do it.”

The very next moment there came a great boom of thunder from the cloudless night sky, with sheer force enough to rattle the town hall. Then there came a great wailing, a thousand voices babbling hysterically in languages too impossibly alien for any pony throat to conceivably even begin to pronounce, a maddened choir of the things beyond singing their demented song. Twilight screamed and clutched her ears, the mayor pinned herself against the wall, the Royal Guards nervously forced themselves to flank their liege, and Celestia alone appeared completely unphased.

The withered corpse of an alicorn shone with an unpleasant variety of lights and colors, seeming to drag something from the air around it into its dry husk. The town hall shook once more, and then blazing orbs of shifting fire burst into being amidst the long-hollowed eye sockets.

“WHO DARES TO CALL MY SOUL BACK FROM THE DREAD ABYSS?!” the impossible thing screamed at the top of its shriveled lungs. “WHO WOULD DARE TO DEFILE YGOR’THERAKH’S THRICE-DEVOURED BY- oh,” the abomination’s sense of presence seemed to visibly deflate. “Hi Celestia.”

“Luna, it’s wonderful to see you again!” Celestia said with a genuine smile on her face. “It’s been far too long since I’ve heard your voice!”

“I have heard naught but the screaming of the insane and the damned for the last fifteen and a half eternities as I wallowed in the hideous abdominal pockets of that below time which cannot be and is.”

“Yes…” Celestia’s expression seemed not even to waver. “So, do you think you’re ready to come back to us now? Back to me?”

“Compared to the nameless depths of horror which I knew amidst the whirling maelstrom of the Un-God of the Dark Tapestry, becoming an undead thing of utter anathema bound in your total thrall for the remainder of eternity sounds mildly less unpleasant,” the monster paused. “So yes.”

Celestia seemed to actually squeal a little like a filly as she rushed to the side of what Twilight’s mind refused to believe could be her sister, throwing her forelegs around the latter’s crackling neck. The white alicorn pressed her face up against the hideous thing, a few tears streaking gently down her cheeks.

“Tia, please stop crying,” the corpse tried to whisper, which didn’t really work considering her voice continued to echo with unnatural power. “For you are embarrassing me in front of the mortals.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Celestia let go, brushing a few drops of moisture away from her eyes with the tip of a wing. “But it’s been a thousand years, can I really be blamed if I’m happy to have my little sister back again?”

“I do not like it when you get emotional in front of the serfs. It is even worse than the quadripedaxiles’ grotesque jiggling.”

“Alright, I’ll stop,” Celestia patted the thing which ought not to be on the back. “I’m sorry to have to do this so soon, but could you hold on for just a second while I perform the Summer Sun Celebration ceremony? The ponies here are expecting it.”

“Royalty does not wait on the whimsy of serfs. You ought to take an eye from them all for their impertinence.”

“Riiiight…” Celestia nodded awkwardly. “Things have changed a bit while you’ve…”

“Been swallowed and digested, unmade and remade, galivanted and wiggled with the glorblqch-things of Ygor’therakh’s innumerable innards.”

“Been away,” the white alicorn finished. “I’ll have to catch you up on current events shortly. But in the meantime, please wait here for just a few moments and I’ll be right back.”

“I am bound as a thrall to thine every accursed whim by the eldritch sorcery which shackles my essence to my wilted shell. I shall do as you ask, sister and savior and slaver.” It, or she, turned her corpselight eyes towards the light brown, grey-maned mare that had spent the entire conversation trying to look as small as possible against the wall. Vertebrae audibly cracked as she turned her neck, causing the mayor to flinch. “I shall bring the meagerest portion of the Daemon Sultan’s bubbling enlightenment to this peasant thrall while I wait.”

“Great,” Celestia said somewhat absently, then started to walk back towards the opening in the curtains.

“Princess, I don’t mean to erm… question your wisdom or anything…” Twilight managed to cut in with a low voice, shuffling a little awkwardly. “But are you sure that your sister came back… entirely right?”

“And in the end of days the gibbering hordes will tear down the gates of Elysium,” the desiccated corpse was already preaching to the extraordinarily uncomfortable-looking mayor, hollow eye sockets ablaze with witchfire. “All shall dance the dance of madness amidst the endless dark that follows.”

“Nah,” Celestia shook her head. “She was always like that.”

“She… she… what?” Twilight managed.

“Why do you think nopony ever managed to make friends with her? Honestly, did you really listen to some silly old mare’s tale about there being no night life at all a thousand years ago?” Celestia sighed, glancing out at the audience briefly before turning back towards her apprentice. “Speaking of friends, did you manage to make any while you were here?”

“Well, I… um…” Twilight looked down at her hooves. “Maybe… no?”

“Then I’m sorry to have to say that I’m overall rather disappointed in you this time,” Celestia said as she turned and began walking into her ceremonial place. “I think you need to be out and about more.”

“Please don’t mean what I think you mean,” Twilight mentally pleaded.

“I think you should stay here a little while longer.”

Twilight groaned again.