Five hours previous, Choral's cream-colored hoof was stroking the silver contours of the bat pendant dangling from her neck. The black lines of a vertical tunnel blurred past her on all sides. She slowly gazed up and across the large elevator platform, past the shoulders of the unicorn attendant whose horn was operating the complex controls of the humming vehicle.
Beyond the glowing frame of protective manalight, a gigantic corridor loomed into view from below. Choral watched calmly as she descended upon the hauntingly familiar sight. Illuminated by walls teaming with cultured bio-luminescence, the majestic depths of Marefall appeared before her. Ancient roads of lunar concrete and humble pony masonry crisscrossed over a distinctively organic stretch of earth, a grand peninsula of trees, grass, and farmland that rested like an alien strip within the center of the gigantic tomb. For the length of six kilometers, the miniature continent loomed beneath the grand curvature of Marefall's ceiling. In the distance, buildings and suspended platforms housed hundreds if not thousands of the Lunar Empire's shadier populace. Across the strip of earthen land, clusters of ponies could be spotted, working patiently to farm the sparse patches of vegetation left to thrive on the jagged strip.
As the elevator came to a hissing halt, the unicorn attendant relinquished his telekinetic grip of the controls and lowered the manalit forcefield. "We have arrived at Marefall. This is as low as the ride goes, milady."
"It's low enough," Choral murmured in reply. She made to trot off the platform. "Much appreciated—"
"Milady," the attendant repeated with emphasis. He gazed at her with a face full of concern. "This... This is hardly a safe place for the likes of you. Might I suggest you reconsider disembarking, or at least wait until I can summon members of the Imperial Guard to give you an escort?" He gulped and added in a low breath, "This is home to those of discordant blood..."
"I would not bother worrying if I were you," she said, giving him a lethargic gaze. For the first time, the slitted nature of her blue eyes glistened before his surprised vision. "I know a thing or two of 'discordant blood.'" That said, she drew the hood of a blue moonsilk cloak over her curved horn and shuffled off the platform, alone.
The attendant nervously watched her depart. After she had trotted a meager distance, he heard what resembled a series of distant shrieks from the enormous chamber beyond. Trembling, he funneled energy once more into the controls of the platform, and shot his glowing blue way back up the geometrically carved shaft without her.
As Choral trotted alone into the valley of Marefall, she passed by several ponies. A few of them were unicorns, though they were a haggard and destitute bunch. At the sight of her rich, immaculate robe, they stopped to stare and ponder, but proceeded with dragging their hovercarts full of enchanted wares towards the furthest reaches of the cavern.
Choral crossed a bridge of gray masonry that stretched over a silver stream of rippling water. Equine figures were standing along the banks with spears in their grasp. At random intervals, they thrust their barbs into the glittering stream, a few of them victoriously lifting skewered eels that wriggled and flicked with glowing fins. These meaty catches were swiftly euthanized with ivory daggers before being deposited gracefully into crates of compact lunar dust. The fishing ponies wore cloaks in the same style as Choral, though hardly as pristine. The smell and taint of ages hung off their robes, and when a piece of their body graced the silver light of the cavern ceiling, it was fangs and leather that showed instead of fur and feathers.
After several minutes of patient trotting, Choral crossed over and stepped onto the edge of the earthen strip of land. Aquamarine blades of grass bent underneath her, a soft and welcome reprieve from the endless platforms of black glass that defined the upper platforms far above Marefall. The scent of leaves, soil, and sweat met her nostrils. She glanced aside as she crossed a cobblestone road, seeing various robed ponies working in solid lines of hard labor across the harvest fields. A few of them glanced her way, and her heart leaped at the sight of so many pale slits of eyes, and not a single one of them recognizable.
With a sullen breath, Choral knew that she had to travel deeper to find that which she had come for. She took a left and trotted down a steep flight of stone stairs lining the edge of the sundered earth. Flecks of dirt and exposed tree roots reached out to her as she ducked and shuffled her way down the thick breadth of the organic structure.
The world turned even darker. High-pitched bursts of noise wafted up from the deepest depths of Marefall, like angry felines fighting at the bottom of an immeasurably deep well. Pausing briefly, Choral raised the cuff of her silken robe to her lips and spoke to a rune etched into the fabric with lunar dust. "Y'lynwyn." Her horn glowed briefly, but soon the light was spread dimly throughout the body of the robe itself. The hem of her hood and the insides of her sleeves shimmered with a muted silver glow. A soft patch of light followed her as she reached the bottom bedrock of Marefall and took a sharp right, trotting directly beneath the suspended body of the land strip.
As she entered the shadows, a series of runes hung from rusted chains, spelling out the name of the foreboding habitat she was just now entering: "Tranquility." For having such a peaceful name, the streets and alleyways of Tranquility were anything but charming. Gone were the rigid, sculpted corridors of lunar urban construction. Instead, the tunnels curved and careened, roughly blending with the jagged rock structures of the land strip overhead. Gnarled tree roots and petrified strips of wood dipped into the black spaces, into which several homes, shops, and establishments had been haphazardly carved. Lining the walls and spaces were rusted braziers of blue flame. A soft glow was cast across the blackened walls of the place by these meager excuses for light.
It was too dim for Choral's taste; it was always a little too dim for her. At first, it looked as though the streets and burrows of Tranquility were utterly abandoned. Soon enough—on this journey just like on so many previous visits—Choral found that she was hardly alone.
They were hiding at first, undoubtedly scared off at the mere sight of a unicorn's magical light source. However, once she had pierced the thick of the dwellings, they came out of the shadows like onyx spiders emerging from their holes, and Choral realized that she was utterly surrounded. Undaunted, she bravely pressed on, trotting past their gazes, her vision quivering at the dozens upon dozens of slitted amber eyes piercing out like yellow stars from beyond the blackness.
There were no words, no dialogue—at least not in the official lunar tongue. Occasionally, there would be a brief burst of noise, and she felt the fuzzy tips of her ears twitching in a desperate attempt to hear what was said, and yet—all her life—she never could. It used to make her feel guilty. Now, she felt frightened. She was looking for somepony, and suddenly she felt that they knew volumes more about what happened to him than they would ever let on about.
Pausing briefly, she glanced at a pair of figures. They disappeared as if behind a splashing curtain of ink. She gulped, hearing more noises stirring behind her, then doubling, like a blanket of leather sheets folding over themselves. Glancing behind, she saw several winged sarosians trotting past her—a lot more closely than she would have felt comfortable with. They marched sideways, their eyes glaring like golden lanternlights. Black hooves glided over the hard floor of Tranquility with the grace of nocturnal serpents.
Looking past them, Choral's vision was ensnared by a wanted poster. The black background to the manufactured illustration was too dark to have been properly made for sarosian habitats. She knew instantly that the Lunar Imperial Rune Guard had slapped it there, expecting it to serve the same futile purpose as it did on several of the magically-reinforced platforms closer to the moon's surface. She gazed across the shadows of Tranquility and saw half a dozen more duplicates of the poster, and all of them depicting the same thing: three winged figures with harsh, midnight stares. Two of them had the stereotypical amber eyes of her distant relations, but one—a stallion with a silver-streaked mane—stood in the center of the group, bearing eyes of a ruthless, soulless black.
A squeak escaped Choral's lips. She was standing in the depths of the moon's darkest shadows, and yet she longed for something even darker. She took one step towards the image in the poster, but suddenly a line of leather and muscle stood in her way.
Choral tilted her head up to face the stallion blocking her, but was then shoved back by a midnight blue hoof. "Unnngh!" She fell down, her cloak wilting around her like crushed flower petals. The pale hint of a cutie mark, illustrating a cosmic explosions, appeared on her flank.
"Hmmm... She chirps like an infant," a grizzled sarosian hissed before slapping the hood off her skull. Choral's trembling horn and creamy coat flickered like a bright comet in the bitter depths of that place. "Ah. Her eyes belong to the darkness, but look at the rest of her! The child is her very own nightlight!"
Several other stallions laughed alongside their burly colleague. Shadows, slitted eyes, and sharp fangs surrounded Choral, grinning and leering. She bit her lip and trembled, standing up and inching away from them as she stared into the foggy distance. The image of five sarosian foals were watching from a windowsill far away. They cowered in a manner like Choral did, clinging to the flanks of their silent mothers. The mares saw Choral's plight. Instead of rushing to help, they quietly covered their children in a protective stretch of leather wings, blocking their sight.
"Please..." Choral stammered and looked back up at the intimidating gang. The musk wafting off their gnarled wings was enough to make her wretch. "I don't want to cause a stir. I'm just looking for my—"
With a grunt, the stallion shoved her hard. She fell back onto the floor with a cry, cowering behind her robe as he hovered above her with a heated flap of brown wings. "You shall find nothing but shadows here! For that is all you have left us with, Imperialist!" His nostrils flared, and his eyeslits became golden knifepoints. "You have the scent of Ponymonium on you, unicorn." A pair of fangs glistened like serrated barbs in the blue torchlight. "Have you come to give us the Empress' blessing?!"
Choral bit her lip and flinched away from him.
Just then, a female voice chirped into existence behind the stallion. "How's this for a blessin', ya tyke?!" A vicious hoof was bucked straight between his legs.
The heavy brute let loose an indiscernible shriek. Part of a glass storefront shattered in its wooden frame across the street. He fell to the rocky floor, twitching and crossing his legs as his companions huddled over him. Following a scrape of hooves, a wingless sarosian with a stone gray coat marched triumphantly into the torchlight. The image of blooming violets appeared on her flank as she produced a fanged smile and offered Choral a helping hoof.
"Always takin' a fall for handsome leather-wings, are ye?"
"N-Noktyrn!" Choral gasped. Once she was pulled up onto all fours, she collapsed forward and clung to the mare. "Oh, I'm so, so very glad to see you..."
"Always a blessin', lass," Noktyrn held her close, gently stroking a hoof over Choral's shoulder. She leaned back and raised the hood of moonsilk back over the unicorn's curved horn in a sisterly gesture. "Though I'm sorry to say that ye've picked the wrong time to have visited hereabouts." Her dark, furry face hung sadly. "What, with all the drama up above. The shadows are hardly safe for ye."
"I know, Noktyrn," Choral said. Gulping, she watched as the group of sarosian stallions dragged their aching buddy off while casting the two mares an angry glare. "But I had to come, especially after what I heard."
"Ye are welcome as always to me family's burrow," Noktyrn said, leading the unicorn safely through the shadowed corridors. "The place has gotten a wee bit crowded since the days when we were foals..." She chuckled. "But many folks are still around that ye should know and love—"
"Noktyrn, please..." Choral tugged back at her. She stood, clutching her glowing robe in the crossroads of Tranquility's earthen alleyways. "I only came for one reason. I have to know if he's here."
Noktyrn sighed and caressed Choral's shoulder. "Please, lass—"
Choral frowned. "I have to find him! Or else, I may never see him again!"
Noktyrn was silent. She took a deep breath and leaned forward. "There be more eyes upon us than even I can see," she said in a low tone. "Not all unicorns respect the blood of shadows like ye do. It is only a matter of time before the Guard arrives. Ye could suffer great penalties for so much as bein' here."
"Let me be concerned with what I suffer or don't suffer," Choral said firmly. "I know that there is nowhere else for him to go. Noktyrn, please, take me to him. I beg you, as the sister you always considered me to be."
Something rattled under Choral's neck. Noktyrn's amber eyes fell towards it. She saw the glitter of a bat figure carved out of the finest nickle. She took a deep breath, then gave a weathered smile.
"Alright, lass," she said quietly. "But pray Elektra hides us beneath her soil long enough for anythin' to come from it."
Choral nodded fervently. "I've said more prayers than I can count."
"So has he," Noktyrn said, then tugged on Choral's forelimb. "Shhh. Stay close, stay silent." She led her down a winding corridor, past torches of blue flame, beyond the droves of amber eyes peering in from the shadows. After a few minutes of shadowed galloping, the earth sarosian ushered Choral down a wide avenue and towards the front of a majestic building carved out of midnight granite. The onyx structure protruded into the belly of the earthen strip overhead as if it was built to be the peninsula's very foundation..
"Here?" Choral blinked at the familiar temple. She shuddered. "Noktyrn, I told you that I've said all my prayers—"
"The House of Nebula gives more than blessings, lass." Noktyrn trotted up to the gates and tugged at a threadbare rope. A high-pitched chime echoed from deep within the stone foundation. "I would think ye would know this, though it's been an awful long time since ye last visited." She smiled gently while adding, "Though I know she is hard to pray to in the glass corridors of the Empire."
"I've not turned my back entirely on Nebula, Noktyrn," Choral said as her face hung towards the hollowed ground. "I've simply chosen her sister as my intercessor."
"Ah, Entropa, the perfect Goddess for an Imperialist to worship," Noktyrn said with a fanged grin. "At least me beloved Elektra knows what it means to feel both joy and regret."
Choral frowned. "Is this what you brought me here for? A lecture on my beliefs?! Noktyrn, I told you that I need to find—"
"And ye shall find him," Noktyrn said. There was a loud clicking from beyond the stone gates, and the doorway opened with an ancient groan. She grabbed Choral gently and ushered her into the black depths of the cathedral. "But when ye do, ye'd best pray to both Entropa and Nebula that there is somethin' in him left to save."
"Wh-what?!" Choral stammered as she stumbled into the dark foyer. "Noktyrn, why are—?!"
She didn't follow. The stone doors slammed shut, bathing Choral in echoes and darkness. The eye-slitted unicorn trembled, clutching to the silks of her robe. The glow to her article had long faded, and she was left alone to attempt eking whatever semblance of sight could be had through her hybrid, blue eyes.
She shuffled forward, every punctuating hoofstep like a lone gunshot screaming softly through the pitch black place of worship. She became faintly aware of dim spots in the distance, like the violet specks of faraway stars. Trotting closer, Choral made out soft blue candles lit around the circumference of a grimy old statue, a miraculous artifact that still smelled of the ancient stains of earth. The prancing figure of a majestic alicorn goddess stood on its hind legs, its elemental wings spread to embrace the forgone winds. A mane of frozen granite flame graced Nebula's neck, and a pair of stone eyes stared, unfeeling, into the glow of candles as Choral's shadow joined the depths of the temple.
Alone before the forsaken altar, Choral shuddered. She slumped down to her haunches and stifled a sob from deep within. Running a hoof over her face, her forelimb bumped into the necklace, issuing a tiny chime from the metal bat pendant. She tried squeaking forth a name, but it sounded just as muted and helpless.
"Chaar and Pulsade are dead."
Choral gasped, lifting her tear-stained face in a jolt. Her blue-slitted eyes panned left and right for the source of his voice.
"I came here to ask penance for their lives..."
She stood up and turned around. Still, there was nothing but darkness. Then, on a hunch, Choral tilted her gaze upwards. The first thing she saw was his leafy ears hanging, and her heart skipped a beat. Then, like a leather canopy unfolding, his face peered from behind his wings. Two orbs of black—darker than the shadows surrounding him—devoured her sight, and she knew that she was staring her lover in the eyes.
"For a moment, I thought it was all a veiled sin," he said softly, gravely. A crescent cutie mark flickered dimly in the blue candlelight. "I thought I had come here out of cowardice, to hide from my actions. But then, you showed up, and I wonder if this is Nebula's way of showing grace." He released his grip of the ceiling, flipped with a flash of leather, and landed on all four hooves. A cloud of dust rose and fell around him like lunar mist, and he trotted darkly towards her. "Or if this her way of punishing me..."
"Myrk..." She whimpered.
"Choral, you are in danger here," he said, standing above her. "You should be with your father, with your family, with the Commission—anywhere but in Tranquility."
"I had to find you, Myrk—"
"Then you have invited death," he said with a frown. The whites of his eyes were the only indication that he was glaring, or that he was even there at all. "It has been ages since we've seen each other last, Choral. I thought now was the right time for me to do what needed to be done. The last thing I wanted was for a pony like you to get involved."
"Myrk, how could you say that?!" Choral said, close to hyperventilating. "Every member of the Rune Guard is scouring the platforms from Ponymonium to New Whinniepeg, looking for you! Of course I'm involved! You think I could just sit in the bright halls of the Lunar Energy Commission Tower and pretend that our moon wasn't collapsing all around us?!"
"Choral, I know I've said many mean things about the system you work for but at least I was comfortable with the knowledge that you were safe there—"
"Myrk, I love you!" Choral shrieked. She heaved once, twice, then flung forward, clinging to his chest. She nuzzled him dearly, her face scrunched up and grimacing as she murmured forth, "I don't know what's gotten into you, or why you've tried so hard over the last few years to scare me away—but I love you! I always have, and I always will!"
Myrk stood silent, breathing heavily. He remained still as her sobs wracked his body. However, a perfect statue the stallion was not. Soon, his trembling hoof made its way under her hood to caress her long, blonde mane.
Choral hiccuped the last of her heavy sobs. She leaned back, drying her face, only to see the glitter of a tear-stained owl pendant in the blue candlelight. The sight of it gave her a bittersweet breath of relief. Slowly, her eyes traveled up the necklace to his handsome face. "Myrk," she stammered, sniffling. "What happened? What did you do?"
Myrk's nostrils flared. He gulped and stared at the statue of Goddess Nebula past her. In the presence of two holy spirits, he eventually gave in. "The three of us—Chaar, Pulsade, and myself—we broke into the Imperial Vault," he said.
Choral gasped, her blue eyes brimming with moisture. "You... You went after the beacon, didn't you?" She gulped. "After all these years, you finally did it. You tried to steal the Spirit of Luna..."
Myrk said nothing. He merely nodded...