"The decision was mutual," Myrk said, his voice echoing hauntingly across the granite bowers of the Temple of Nebula. He paced in the blue candlelight before Choral, murmuring, "Or at least, that's what we told ourselves." He took a deep breath of remorse. "I was still the ringleader; I knew that from the start." He cast the half-blood unicorn a tired glance. "Chaar and Pulsade were my closest companions, and yet they were still my subordinates. Since we first ever flew under Luna's banner together, they had pledged their very lives to me, promising to follow my word to the bitter end." His black eyes narrowed. "Just a few days ago, I discovered how sincere their commitment truly was."
Choral clutched the front of her silken cloak and gazed anxiously at him. "How did they get caught?"
"We had everything planned perfectly," Myrk spoke. "For weeks, we surveyed the inner security of the Imperial Vault. Using my close proximity to the Empress, I determined the best place and time to break into her sacred storage facility. But, after so much work and anticipation, we finally arrived... only to discover an entire battalion of the Lunar Rune Guard lying in wait with their swords and manarifles. It's a miracle that the first salvo didn't incinerate us. We fought briefly, but realized that the battle was futile. So, we took flight. Days later, when I arrived here alone, I heard the grim nature of their fate. I've been lying in hiding ever since."
Choral's face hung. She took a deep breath. "Was it...?"
"Captain Pierce Stellar," Myrk grunted in a deep breath. "It all makes sense now. He's always suspected that I never truly shared the Imperialist mindset. Undoubtedly, he went over my head and made an appeal to the Empress. Nightmare Moon must have given him total control over the ambush. Not only were his soldiers ready to spring the perfect trap on us, but every canister of alicorn mana was gone. Not a single piece of Princess Luna's ethereal spirit was to be found in the entire vault."
"They... They had been relocated," Choral muttered, her hooves shifting nervously on the floor. "My father told me about it days ago. He's head of the Lunar Science Committee, after all. Now that I think about it, it makes sense that the Empress would put him in charge of temporarily housing the canisters to keep them safe from thieving hooves." She winced upon hearing her own words. Gulping, she tilted her face up and gave Myrk a sad look. "As soon as I found out about the relocation of the mana canisters, I knew that something terrible had happened. I knew that... it could only mean you had finally done what I've feared you would do all these years." She bit her lip and trembled, her gaze avoiding his face as she stared into the blue candles around Nebula's statue. "And then all of the wanted posters popped up everywhere, and the Ponymonium broadcasts branded you, Chaar, and Pulsade as traitors..."
"The Imperial Cabinet had always held a deep-seeded distrust of the Night Wraiths," Myrk said. "For years, Captain Stellar had tried to sway Nightmare Moon into agreeing with her advisers. It took this most recent event to finally persuade the Empress into banishing all sarosians from the Lunar Guard for good. I imagine this turn of events has been coming for years, Choral. Even if the three of us had never broken into the Imperial Vault, it would be a matter of months before I was replaced as chief Guard to Her Majesty—"
"Then is that why you broke into the facilities to begin with?!" Choral exclaimed with a rising growl. Her pale features frowned angrily. "Was it just to secure your position as the highest ranking sarosian in the Guard?"
Myrk's fangs showed. "You think I'd risk the lives of myself and my stallions for something so arrogant and trivial?"
"Self-righteousness to some is arrogance to others, Myrk!" Choral nearly shouted. "What did you even hope to achieve?! What could you possibly have done with the Empress' bottled mana once you had stolen it?! That energy is built for powering the subterranean cities of the Empire, not for rattling around in the leather wings of clandestine guards!"
Myrk took a deep breath, his leather wings flexing and unflexing. "The beacon, Choral," he said softly. "We were going to send a message to the Princess' four sisters in the cosmos."
Choral's breath left her. "Oh Myrk..." She hung her face. In a sigh, she sat on her haunches and clutched her cloak to herself. "After all this time, after all we've argued and fought about," she whimpered and gave him a sad glance. "You still believe in summoning the stars?"
"Now more than ever," Myrk said with a grave nod. He marched past Choral and gazed at the candlelit visage of Goddess Nebula. "It's been nearly a thousand years, Choral. A thousand years since Princess Luna became Nightmare Moon and was banished here to the heart of Consus' floating remains. And in all those centuries, did she once change her despotic ways? Did she ever cast off the malevolent shades of the 'Empress' and return to the redeeming embrace of Harmony?"
"She's making a perfect society, Myrk!" Choral exclaimed. "After a millennium of heartless banishment and exile, she's come this close to absolutely perfecting science and industry." She stood up and stomped her front hoof in anger. "The Lunar Empire is nothing less than the pinnacle of equine civilization!"
"Spoken like a true Imperialist," Myrk murmured. He turned and gazed unemotionally over his stone-gray shoulder at her. "This 'scientific and societal perfection' you so zealously defend is the means by which she's been constructing a gigantic war machine for centuries." He turned and trotted icily towards her. "In barely a few decades, Nightmare Moon will have crafted the means to transcend the imprisoning power of the Elements of Harmony. And when she does, she won't return to Equestria in peace to embrace her sister, Celestia. She will invade the land with the unbridled wrath of the very demoness that she has become."
"How do you know that?!" Choral frowned at him, struggling to calm her fuming breaths. "Just because you've been her top guard for ten years straight doesn't give you divine insight, Myrk! Wraith or not, you are a mortal like everypony else! How dare you think that you can pierce the mind of a goddess older than time?!"
"'On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape,'" Myrk quoted.
Choral closed her eyes and sighed. "Yes, Myrk," she said with a limp nod. "I am quite familiar with the scriptures you hold dear. I can't count how many times you've read the Book of Saros out loud to me."
"If that's the case," he murmured as he paced past her in the dark hollow of the temple, "Then you must remember: 'The phantom Daughter of our beloved Father hath given us the night. To darkness we were born, a mere tool of the Deceiver. But Her solemn grace and mercy hath made purpose out of our horror.'" His hooves scraped to a stop as he turned to face her. "You are not all unicorn, Choral. The same blood that runs through me is also inside you. No matter how much you ascend to the upper levels of Ponymonium to deny it, and no matter how much your father protectively tries to hide it, you are still a creature of the night..."
She sighed and dragged a hoof over her face. "Myrk..."
"Your ancestors and mine were living weapons, tools of Discord," Myrk said firmly. "The Deceiver took the flesh of dead pegasi and blended them with bones forged in the depths of Tartarus. We came into this universe as fiends, and it was Princess Luna—the spirit of mercy, the lonely gravekeeper of her father Consus—who saved us from eternal madness in the dark. It's taken me a long time to realize it, but it is her spirit—and not the façade of Nightmare Moon—that my blood, and yours, has been sworn to serve since the beginning of our existence—"
"You see, Myrk, this is why I couldn't stay in Tranquility anymore!" Choral cried through gnashing teeth. The edges of her eyes watered as she hoarsely shouted, "I had to run away from the shadows, the blue flames, and the leering glares of this dark, dark place—not because of my father, not because of my career with the Lunar Energy Commission, but because of your damned insatiable obsession with... with..." She spat, "Prophecy! Myrk, I fell in love with you because I chose to, not because some... some Book of Saros or ancient scrolls on the Elements of Harmony told me that I was supposed to! I want to be in control of my life, Myrk. I want to make this moon a better place to live in! I want our civilization to someday return to earth with honor and pride! But every time I listened to you, you always had the same dream—and it was never your dream, Myrk! It was the unfulfilled dream of countless sarosians who died ahead of you! And now look at what this obsession has finally done!" She shuddered and teetered back, choking on a sob. "It's... It's d-destroyed you, Myrk." She sniffled. "It's destroyed you and your comrades and your career and... and... for what?"
The temple fell silent, undisturbed save for the sporadic breaths that shot out of Choral's heaving lungs.
Finally, Myrk looked at her coolly and said, "If I sit back and do nothing, if I let Nightmare Moon continue on the path she has set for herself, then the one Goddess that I and my forbears before me have sworn our lives to protect will end up destroying herself, Choral. She will assemble an army, launch an invasion of Earth, and eradicate everything left in ponydom, all because of a horrible possession that has steered her soul for ages on end." He stepped towards Choral and placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. "Yes, I believe in prophecy. But to me it is merely a guidebook for what has to be done. If the four sisters are to be summoned from the heavens, if Luna is to be cleansed of her curse, then I must do that which is in my power to see that the prophecy comes true, and that Princess Luna never fully turns into an Empress of pure evil, like that which her father Consus almost became."
Choral's head was tilted down. Tears ran slowly down her cheeks.
"Don't you see?" Myrk pressed a hoof under her chin and tilted her gaze up to meet his black eyes. "I want to save our future, Choral."
Choral blinked mistily at him. There was a tiny glint of blue reflection. She looked down at the owl pendant hanging from his neck. With a bitter smile, she stroked the figurine of nickel with her pale hoof. "You always dreamed of the future, but what hope is there now, Myrk?"
Myrk squinted at her curiously.
She gazed up at him and dried her face. "You broke into the Vault. You tried to make off with a piece of Nightmare Moon's untapped power. And for what?" She sniffled and stammered, "You're a wanted fugitive, Myrk. They're coming for you. Stellar and angry unicorns like him are going to find you, and then they're going to take you away from me forever. And then... then what future will we have, Myrk?"
Myrk stood dead still, his black eyes glazed in thought.
She asked, "What will you do to save it...?"