Chapter Twenty One: Spilled Blood
~BlackRoseRaven
Garm, the last remaining Black Wolf, snarled as it paced back and forth: it had torn through one of the walls of Ponyville and smashed down two houses, terrifying the handful of Nibelung workers... but Illyria and Greece had hurriedly distributed weapons and sounded the alarm, and other armed and armored dwarves had joined the fray, fighting the monster back before it could do more than smash another home to pieces even as its rot spread like contagion through the ground and presence alone sent frost spilling along the earth.
Half a dozen Nibelung had died and others were wounded, but they had fought on... and when Luna had joined them, her support had permitted them to drive back the monster further and force it into the fields outside Ponyville. The winged unicorn was exhausted, her mind torn between her duty to protect Looking Glass Equestria and her desire to find Scrivener Blooms after she had felt... an indescribable, hostile strangeness, and the link between them had become riddled with static. It distracted her from the battle, but thankfully, there was little danger: all she had to do was fly around at a taunting level as the Nibelung hauled barrels of oil into the field.
Garm lunged at her as her mind wandered again despite her best efforts to concentrate, and Luna looked up too little, too late before the paw smashed into her, knocking her flying and crashing through a barrel of oil before she howled in pain, rolling rapidly as her body steamed at the contact with it and Nightmare Moon flinched inside her. It was blessed oil, possibly all the way from Valhalla, and Luna cursed under her breath as she shoved herself to her hooves and then leapt backwards when Garm bit down at her, the Black Wolf biting only into the field and the puddle of oil before Luna began to rear back, shouting: “Foul monster!”
Then she winced as Nightmare Moon and her instincts both shouted at her, and instead she shoved herself up into the air, taking quick flight with a curse of frustration. If she blasted the monster with magic, it could set the oil on her own body alight as well... and it burned enough as it was without the addition of purifying flame as she muttered: “Accursed oil. Accursed Valhalla... what are the Nibelung even doing?”
Garm barked at her and lunged, clawing at her, and Luna threw herself backwards out of the way before she looked up and saw Greece gesturing wildly at her... and the winged unicorn grunted as she shot towards the Nibelung in the distance as he yelled something. Immediately, another Nibelung ran forwards and threw a torch as Luna sped towards where Greece was waving at her and Garm turned to give chase... and then Luna winced and hastily twisted herself higher into the air as the torch landed in a puddle of oil from a barrel that had been knocked over.
The Black Wolf, still fixated on her, missed the sight of the torch falling into the pond of holy oil... and it looked down too little, too late, as it staggered right into the wall of fire that burst into life in front of it, shrieking before several barrels to either side of this exploded in blasts that rocked the monster back and forth. It was saturated with holy fire as Luna shot towards the sky, watching from a safe distance with incredulity as Garm howled in misery... then snarled savagely even as it burned, a monster wreathed with an aura of golden flame that dragged itself through the growing inferno towards a now-fleeing group of Nibelung as Greece winced and staggered backwards.
He fell over with a grunt and a curse as Garm loomed forwards, growling even through the golden flames rapidly consuming it, as seemingly-unstoppable as Fenrir... and then Luna shot down with a snarl, picking up an unused barrel of oil with telekinesis and snapping it in a hard throw towards the monstrous wolf, and it collided firmly with the side of the creature's face before exploding in a blast powerful enough to send Greece flying backwards with a strangled yelp, crashing to the ground and rolling painfully several times before he came to a smoldering halt. Garm, meanwhile, was knocked staggering, its jaw shattered and hanging stupidly open as it trembled violently, gasping several times before it attempted to lunge and froze solid halfway, rapidly petrifying and tottering weakly before it collapsed forwards, and the golden flames covering its body went out with one great gasp of smoke and ash.
Luna touched down to the ground beside Greece, and she gave him a flat look as the Nibelung grinned back at her awkwardly before he rubbed slowly at his singed features. Then the winged unicorn sighed and rolled her eyes, wrinkling her muzzle at the stench of burning hair and the bittersweet oil she had been splattered with as it continued to steam faintly against her body, muttering: “Please do not die, dwarf. Thou art perhaps the single entity in this accursed place I actually like.”
“Thank you, Luna. We all owe you tremendously.” Greece said quietly, and Luna sighed, then gently helped him stand up, the Nibelung wheezing in pain as he forced himself to his hooves and then grabbed at his face with a mumble. “My ears are ringing from that last blast, though, and my retinas feel burnt... that... that thing was one of the Black Wolves, wasn't it?”
“Aye, but worry not. I feel with a strange confidence they are all dead... and 'tis not merely because I took down Fenrir myself.” Luna halted, then moodily looked over the petrified remains of the monstrosity in front of them, the statue silently resting forwards on its face and half-extended paws. “It is dead, correct? The fire did not just neutralize it?”
Greece shook his head tiredly, then glanced over his shoulder as Illyria and other Nibelung began to approach, and he smiled awkwardly at them with a raised hand to indicate he was okay before Illyria began furiously: “That oversized rat has set back weeks' worth of work! The damaged houses are bad enough but the ground and terrain has been poisoned and devastated, and-”
Luna rose a hoof and shot him a dark look, and Illyria petered slowly to a halt before the winged unicorn asked quietly: “What of the dead?”
Illyria glanced towards Greece, who looked quietly back... and then a Nibelung rose a hand and said nervously: “Seven die dead. More wounded.”
The winged unicorn nodded, then glanced towards Greece... but the artificer was now hesitantly examining the petrified Black Wolf, apprehensively touching the surface of the statue and looking slowly over it. So instead, Luna returned her eyes towards Illyria, asking quietly: “Thou art supposedly smart, even in the ways of thine kin. Tell me,what funeral preparations shall be made?”
Illyria looked dumbstruck at this, rubbing awkwardly at his head before he finally looked at the dwarves, and they simply glared at the Architect before Luna sighed and shook her head, muttering: “What use is thine intellect if it alienates thee from everyone around thee, dwarf? Very well, Nibelung. Tell me what thou does to honor the dead.”
“Burn the bodies of the warriors.” A Nibelung said quickly, raising a hand. “Send them with hope to better-life, not in Niflheim.”
“Not in Niflheim, aye, that is a better life, is it not?” Luna smiled a bit at this even as tiredness flickered through her body, and then she said softly: “I shall honor thine dead side-by-side with thee, if thou will permit it. Aye, most days I may beat and bludgeon and abuse thee all, but here thou have all fought and died for Equestria. Thou hast earned the right to call it our Equestria. I respect that.”
The Nibelung looked awkwardly at one another, but Luna didn't wait for an answer, instead striding towards Greece as she glanced towards the burning field... but the golden flames were rapidly dying down on their own now, even though more normal-looking fires had ignited here and there throughout the grasses... but they were slow-moving, the flames dark and heavy, the rot and frost that had spread from the destructive influence of the black wolf suppressing the worst of the damage and stopping the fire from becoming dangerous. It was one force of destruction canceling out another... and yet Luna didn't know why she still felt such foreboding as she asked quietly: “Well, what is it?”
“It's... hollow.” the Nibelung said finally, and Luna frowned at this before Greece turned and struck the shell of stone firmly, and cracks spread through the petrified rock before he gritted his teeth and slammed his fist firmly against the side of the statue's body again, and it shattered inwards, Luna staring in shock as she saw that indeed, there was nothing inside anymore. “Obviously these things are dead... but whatever those Black Wolves were, they... well, I don't even want to guess at it.”
“Aye.” Luna murmured, looking silently at the shell and feeling a chill of foreboding... and then she shook her head slowly, muttering: “Very well, we shall save the deadly guessing games for later... but only because I sense that my husband draws near, and with him walks Odin. Our link is...”
She shook her head a bit, and Greece looked at her with concern before she smiled faintly, saying quietly: “I am fine. It is merely... stress and exhaustion. I have defeated two Black Wolves of Hell today, after all, Greece, and am soaking in holy oil. Do a tremendous favor for a Valkyrie in a state of vulnerability: go to the spa building in Ponyville and run the hottest bath in the largest tub you can.”
Greece smiled a bit at this, and then he looked up in surprise as Illyria added quietly: “I shall take over cleanup operations for the moment, artificer. It is under my obligations, anyway, I am the Architect here. Nibelung... fellows... let us return to the village. And fancy-corn... I suppose a thank you is in order.”
“Yes, but do not strain thyself, Illyria, it is not expected.” Luna retorted, and Illyria gave her a sour look, but then the two nodded slowly to one another before the group of Nibelung headed into the village, leaving Luna alone with the hollowed-out statue.
She glanced at it silently, reaching a hoof up to rub over it, remembering how Fenrir too had turned to stone when killed... and she wondered silently if these terrible abominations were creations of some wicked but skillful hand, hands that had shaped the hollow shells, then poured so much evil, so much malice, so much destruction and corruption into them that they had taken on life as the Black Wolves. She shook her head slowly, shuddering a little at what it implied... and then sighed a bit as she walked quietly around the statue, and smiled faintly over the burnt and charred battlefield, damaged Ponyville at her back.
All the same, they had triumphed. They had wreaked a horrible vengeance upon the monsters that had destroyed their entire world... even though by now, Luna was well-aware the beasts had also been significantly weaker. She had not even needed to move the moon... not that she would have dared to bring another eclipse about anyway, with the chance that the monsters would shatter the ivory bauble in the sky... or worse, she would lose herself again to the temptations of power. She shook her head quickly at this thought as memories and emotions and terrible feelings twisted through her, from disgust to enticement... and then she closed her eyes and lowered her head forwards, muttering: “Scrivener has faced more than a battle with a Black Wolf, it seems... the closer he comes, the clearer I taste his thoughts and see his memories...”
She sat in silence for ten minutes, head bowed, half-brooding despite the tremendous victory they had accomplished... and then she finally looked up as Odin and Scrivy approached, the winged unicorn smiling faintly, eyes locked on her husband. She stepped forwards, and they nuzzled each other slowly before embracing tightly, pressing their bodies close together as ivy necklace and glinting metal collar rubbed together... and then they slowly drew apart as Odin said quietly: “I saw most of the battle, Scrivener Blooms. And I do not merely mean the fact that you showed remarkable strategy under pressure that I do not recall witnessing in you before... I mean also the shouting match with the invisible entity.”
Scrivener twitched awkwardly, and Luna grimaced a bit as she looked up at Odin, asking in a voice more imploring than frustrated: “Can we not put this aside until later, old lecher? Please. My husband is tired and beaten. In honesty, I am tired and beaten. And thou does not look very well thyself, although I express it less out of concern for thee and more because I do not wish to have this conversation now. Can thou not let the subject rest, permit sleeping dragons to lie, and us to revive ourselves before we speak of this?”
Odin began to open his beak... and then he glanced towards the hollow statue of Garm, grimaced a bit, and instead reached into his jacket for his ambrosia. He took a deep sip of it, swirling it back and forth, then swallowed with a grimace before looking down at the flask... and offering it towards the ponies. “Don't be shy. I've shared my canteen with a horse before in times long passed now. I imagine this is no less hygienic.”
“Please do not compare us to riding horses ever again.” Luna said moodily, and then she hesitated before shaking her head quickly, adding finally: “Nay, Scrivy and I will relax in Ponyville and that will be enough to revive us. We need not thy drugs and magical concoctions, cyclops. Go peddle thy miracles to fools who cannot make their own fortune.”
Odin chuckled dryly at this, then he glanced towards Scrivener Blooms, but the earth pony bit his lower lip and shook his head as he forcibly drew his eyes away... and for a few moments, the one-eyed once-god looked at him measuringly before he nodded slowly and corked the flask, saying quietly: “There is more strength in someone who feels and resists temptation than a pure-of-heart oaf who will never understand what it's like to face down longing and desire. Very well, Brynhild, I will... let this topic pass for the moment. But we will speak of it.”
“Aye, but in due time. There is no rush, Odin, the Bifrost has shattered... 'twill be more than a week this time before it repairs itself in the ether for us to use.” Luna replied quietly, and Odin nodded gravely at this, the winged unicorn looking up at him with an awkward smile. “But... thou hast my thanks, at least for this.”
Odin nodded... then he sighed a bit and turned, sitting awkwardly down beside the statue with a grimace and looking moodily up at the sky overhead as he leaned back against the petrified shell of Garm. “It's fine, Brynhild. When I think for a moment, it becomes clear that for now, I may be better off not knowing anyway. We will talk in time then... for now, let us instead focus on the good.”
“Aye. There is much good, no matter how much bad also exists.” Luna said quietly, trading a soft look with Scrivener... and then the two ponies bowed their heads politely to the once-god, and he gave a small smile, raising a hand to them as they turned and headed towards Ponyville.
A group of Nibelung were already hard at work cleaning up some of the wreckage, Illyria supervising and looking over one of the destroyed homes, and the ponies carefully and quietly made their way through the damaged zone and deeper into Ponyville. They walked in silence, Scrivy's eyes on the ground and Luna looking at him with soft concern, walking closely enough that their sides almost touched.
They halted outside the spa, standing awkwardly for a moment before Scrivener finally gave her an awkward smile, and Luna gazed back as her mane and tail sizzled softly and settled back behind her, leaning down as she said quietly: “Thou art such a mess, Scrivener Blooms. A horrid, awful mess.”
“I know, I know. I'm sorry, I am.” Scrivener replied softly, and then he winced when Luna headbutted him gently, then pushed their skulls together, the male closing his eyes as their foreheads pressed tightly against one-another's before their muzzles slowly, quietly rubbed together side-by-side.
Thoughts and emotions traded back and forth, and then Luna smiled faintly and leaned back, nodding once and saying quietly: “Alright, Scrivy. Come, to the bubble bath. We shall relax, discuss ill thoughts if we must... but only if we must. 'Tis difficult to be frustrated in a bubble bath, is it not?”
“I dunno. We're both very good at being frustrated, aren't we?” Scrivener replied with a bit of a smile, and Luna laughed a little as she nodded slowly. Then the two turned towards the spa doors, walking side-by-side as their thoughts and memories and emotions swirled slowly together, both of them feeling such a wild mix of emotions that it left them all but numb to what had happened and with only concern for one-another bubbling through their mixed soul.
Luna and Scrivener spent the day resting in Ponyville, most of which was spent hiding in the hot tubs together in the spa, resting their aching bodies. Scrivener had soaped Luna down heavily to get the holy oil off of her, remarking on the fact that it didn't surprise him all that much blessed oil apparently burned her... and Luna had replied to this by dunking him under the water and then grouchily making him wash her mane.
Eventually, Zecora had found them, concerned for them and what had happened, and Luna had tried to splash her a few times before grumpily telling the story and complaining that she was interrupting their relaxation. Zecora had sighed at this, then left... and when she'd returned with a tray of cookies, Luna had become far more agreeable, cheerfully sitting back and munching away even as Scrivener Blooms glared at her as she dripped crumbs everywhere.
After a few more questions, Zecora left them alone, satisfied that they were alright and her curiosities sated. It was a gesture Scrivener knew that even Luna appreciated, even if the winged unicorn didn't show it and was still somewhat grouchy over the zebra's shadow-trick. After a few more hours of lounging around and using the various spa facilities, Luna had finally decided it was time to go, and they had cleaned up, cleaned off, and made their way outside.
The Nibelung were setting up a funeral stage in the village square, and Luna and Scrivener had sat quietly, watching respectfully as the sun had slowly set, and other forces that helped govern the passage of the day rose the moon. Odin was there as well, sitting beside the library now, nodding every now and then as Illyria spoke with him. Greece, meanwhile, was with the other Nibelung as they began to lay their dead out over the extended stage as they packed straw beneath it and spilled oil over it, and Luna murmured softly: “I have never seen a dwarf funeral before. I always assumed the Nibelung just left their dead where they laid. 'Tis strange... to see them with culture and etiquette all their own. It lessens them in my mind as beasts. I think that the next time I find myself embattled with their kind... I will be more hesitant to kill them.”
Scrivener smiled a bit, nodding slowly as Luna dropped her head on his shoulder, and he rested his own skull against hers, closing his eyes as her mane swept gently to the side, half-encircling him as a front hoof of each slid towards one-another's, then quietly locked together. They both watched quietly as the Nibelung gave little ceremony, but there was ceremony all the same: the dwarves shouted their hopes more than prayed to any god or divine presence as they all raised pitchers of ale and alcohol, then drank deeply as one Nibelung tossed a torch onto the pyre and it burst into flames. It seemed strangely like a celebration more than it did a funeral, even as Pales flickered into being here and there, to watch quietly as the corpses were burned... and when Luna glanced to the side, she was unsurprised to see both Celestia and Twilight sitting beside her, Scrivener looking up himself as the two Pales regarded them softly.
They both smiled faintly, and then Luna looked ahead towards the flames as she said quietly: “Aye, sister. Finally, the Black Wolves have been destroyed. Whatever they were, they will never plague us again... but I worry. It seemed like they were things that were made, and things made once can be made anew... and perhaps made better. For whatever else, they were weaker in this world, perhaps because it had been infused with Helheim's corruption, perhaps because it is a different layer, perhaps because instead of passing through that energy-soaked place-between-places upon the Bifrost... they must have swam, or bitten, or ripped their way through, shattering the bridge in the process. And they must have been waiting on the other side for who knows how long... or perhaps 'twas only some immense stroke of misfortune, the gates opening right as the awful creatures began to pass.
“All I know is that I do not savor this victory as I thought I would. Aye, I am proud, and I am glad that I have defeated these monsters... oh, fine, Scrivener Blooms, we defeated them, with a little aid from Odin.” Luna smiled a bit, glancing quietly towards him, and the earth pony laughed despite himself before the living ponies looked towards the Pales of Celestia and Twilight as they both looked at them with tenderness radiating from their spectral shapes. “And I know that their death removes many obstacles from the path. Their death symbolizes new hopes... but I wonder, again, what made these creatures, and whereupon they first came hence. 'Tis a mystery better left unsolved, I fear, however... I would rather their creator never find our Looking Glass Equestria, and I never have to gaze upon the sallow facade that would engineer such calamity.”
Celestia nodded slowly, and Twilight smiled encouragingly as Luna looked over the two... then Scrivener Blooms added softly: “And it's not as if... we don't feel a sense of accomplishment or anything. It's not as if... you know. But I think to be honest, Luna's feeding off my emotions a lot. Luna's feeling my concerns, because... Valthrudnir saved me, guided me through taking down Skoll. And I'm pretty sure I don't have to explain to two ponies like yourselves why that's worrisome.”
Celestia nodded again, looking unsurprised as Twilight reared back silently, the two flickering quietly in Scrivy's vision, becoming almost real as he winced a bit before they were once more only Pales in his eyes... and then Celestia quietly reached up and gently touched Luna's shoulder before she looked towards where Odin was seated, then back to her little sister, and the sapphire winged unicorn smiled faintly. “Oh, as if thou truly has to ask, Celestia, thou knows I was bad enough for keeping secrets from thee. Nay, we have not told Odin... but this of course is not to say he does not suspect something. He knows that Scrivener Blooms... something lurks in the recesses of his mind. I do not believe he knows it is an echo of Valthrudnir, however, for I suspect he would not be nearly so calm upon the subject.”
The two Pales both nodded and glanced towards Odin, then Twilight looked at Celestia as the shade of the enormous equine looked silently up at the radiant moon high above. Luna glanced up after her, and then she laughed a little, adding softly: “Look, Celestia, the silly fools have again placed the moon upon the wrong side of the sky... I should fix it, but I do not feel like being responsible. I have already killed two apocalypse-bringing beasts of Hell, after all. I believe that means I have been responsible enough for one day as it is, does it not? I would far rather just sit back and not mind the details for now.”
Celestia shook her head a bit at this, but the ghost seemed to be smiling all the same as Twilight gazed up towards the ivory orb overhead in silence for a few moments... then, finally, Celestia looked down at Luna, the sisters gazing quietly at one-another before the winged unicorn gave the smallest of nods. Then she flickered out of existence, and Twilight smiled faintly at them, stepping forwards and embracing Luna gently around the neck, and Luna laughed a bit as she bowed her head towards her and whispered: “I wish I was worthy of this kindness, Twilight Sparkle. Worthy of thee.”
Twilight, however, only laughed silently, shaking her head slowly as she drew her eyes over Luna before slipping past her to embrace Scrivener quietly. He reached up, resting his hooves against the Pale's shoulders, and the ghost of the winged unicorn pulled back and studied him silently as he gazed over her, her form flickering between translucent and solid in his vision before she patted his cheek gently with one hoof and then faded slowly from sight, and the earth pony shook his head slowly as Luna gazed at him quietly before he murmured: “Sometimes I feel like I've failed you both, you know. You and Twilight Sparkle are very different in some ways... but in plenty, I think I see how you're the same, too. Makes me wonder what you must have been like when you were actually young.”
Luna reached up and punched his shoulder gently, saying kindly: “I know not whether thou art attempting to call me a narcissist, compliment me, or merely frustrate me anew with the knowledge that for all the arguing that went on between thou and her, the two of thee were always such good friends.”
“Yes, Luna, but you're the one who brought us all together, don't forget. Without you in my life, I'd have... well.” Scrivener rested back moodily, rubbing at his cheek thoughtfully before he grimaced a bit as he realized he'd lost his glasses again. Luna only gave him an amused look at this thought, and he mumbled: “Well it happens so often now it's hard to keep track of anymore. But I was just thinking that without you, I'd probably be dead... or even worse, alive, now older and grouchier, still working in the Royal Courts assuming I didn't get myself thrown out or killed at some point.”
“Aye, and the chances of the last are higher than most would have given thee credit for.” Luna remarked pointedly, and Scrivener shrugged agreeably before the winged unicorn closed her eyes and dropped her head against his shoulder, the stallion looking towards the still-burning pyre surrounded by the crowd of singing dwarves, and Scrivener smiled a bit as she murmured quietly: “But I am glad for the way things worked out, all the same. Aye, I can be greedy, and we both are not without flaw, and sometimes it seems that the path not taken may be brighter... but all the same... I know in my heart, my soul... all that matters is that we are together.”
Scrivener nodded slowly, closing his eyes as he bowed his head forwards and slipped his foreleg around her, pulling her a little closer, and Luna smiled a bit as she slipped herself tighter against his side as the two watched the Nibelung honor their dead in a world that awaited the rebirth of the living.
Luna and Scrivener returned to their cottage that night, surprising Pollen. The Velite fretted awkwardly for a little while, but the two ponies had only wanted to head to bed and get some sleep after the ordeals of the day, promising to explain everything afterward. Pollen had offered to go back outside to the wagon, but Luna had looked almost insulted at this and all-but-ordered the Velite to stay where she'd set up in the den.
The two living ponies had finally headed into their room: it still needed another coat of paint, and Luna wanted to detail the stars and moon and other celestial symbols over the ceiling as well. But other than those details, it was mostly a matter of arranging their furniture properly and getting rid of the extra boxes piled everywhere to get it into a finished state.
But the large, circular bed was more than comfortable, and it didn't take long for the two to fall asleep once they were curled up together under the blankets. As always these days, however, Scrivener soon found himself slowly climbing to his hooves in darkness, alone, not even needing to look at himself to know his form had warped and distorted as his claw dug slowly against the warm, bog-like earth.
Reality filtered in bit-by-bit around him, and the half-pony, half-wyrm shook his head slowly before he sighed quietly, lowering his head and murmuring: “Why does it always come back to this? Why the nightmare, every time I try to sleep... but I know. I know... what I... what I am. I know it's due to the infection of corruption, and the way I've been warped and changed over the years. And I know you have something to do with it, too, don't you?”
“Yes, I do.” Nightmare Moon's voice said softly, sounding unsurprised as she strode slowly out of the darkness, and Scrivener gazed up at her silently as she walked towards him. She was smiling softly, however, even as blue and black armor gleamed over her body, the thick plates and tight dragonhide leather tight against her supple frame. And no longer did she wear the ivy necklace: instead, she wore an intricate collar that looked as if it was made of obsidian roses turned to metal, laced and held together with steel ivy, with the black pearl inset tightly into the front.
She wore no helm, letting her starry mane sway and flow freely back, the ethereal locks seeming to hum softly as she stepped forwards and gazed down into his eyes with her own dark, intelligent, and yet somehow animal irises, studying him calmly before she said softly: “You are not angry. You want to be; you know that you should be; you know that Luna will be... but all the same, you are not angry. You understand, do you not?”
“A little. Enough that... I don't...” Scrivener Blooms closed his eyes, looking down silently, and Nightmare Moon reached up and gently touched his chest. The half-wyrm, half-pony didn't even have to look down as he felt reality twist around him and a comforting weight settle around his neck, before he reached his claw quietly up and drew his claws gently over the engraved collar now resting there. He halted... then opened his eyes, looking up at her with his mismatched features as he said quietly: “This wasn't the right way to go about it, though.”
“Yes, but do not forget what I am or who I am. I am Nightmare Moon: I am Luna's passion, strength, and her darker side. I am both the shadow beneath her, and the whisper inside her... I am evolution, and the primal: I am the reflection, the sinister conscience, and epitome of what lays within her very soul. Our very soul.” Nightmare Moon said softly, and Scrivener knew she wasn't just talking about herself and Luna, but him as well. “I do not care about good or evil, right or wrong. What I care about is you, and Luna, and our blessed, beautiful night. I care about those within our domicile, and those whom we call friend and family and ally.
“I desire to be understood better by you, Scrivener Blooms. Perhaps I even aim to try and make myself more-loved than little Luna, but I can say with honesty that was never my first goal.” Nightmare Moon tilted her head back moodily, looking towards the dark ceiling above, and then she flicked her horn absently as it gave a soft pulse, and the night sky filtered in bit-by-bit above them. Scrivener gazed up at this as stars twinkled to life through the darkness, as the moon shimmered into being and clouds formed, rolling slowly through the air amidst the glowing constellations. “It is funny, to be in competition with yourself. Even lucid as I am... some days I feel almost as separate and hostile an entity as what gave me life, as what once drove Luna into her dark dreams...”
She quieted, then looked slowly back at the male as he looked back at her, leaning forwards and explaining softly: “It was Pinkamena that gave me this idea, you see. At first, the half-demon's elation at your state of being struck as strange. Perhaps even disloyal... I almost wished to punish her for it. But then I came to understand why she felt such gladness... why she said that only now, and only you, could truly understand her, even if Luna and I could come close. It was because of the homogeneity between you two: the sameness, if I may borrow your artistic use of simpler words for such complex things, handsome scribe.”
Their eyes met, and Nightmare Moon smiled softly, leaning forwards and murmuring quietly: “And it worked, did it not? Furthermore, I have never influenced you directly... I have only helped shaped the world you stepped into each and every night. Perhaps I have not even stepped outside my bounds: after all, are dreams not meant to be shaped and designed by the deeper, darker self?”
“You rationalize things worse than me and justify yourself more than Celestia does.” Scrivener said quietly, but Nightmare Moon only gave him an entertained look, rearing her head back slightly. “But I understand. Like I was seeing the same things Pinkamena was... you wanted me to see the same way you did. You wanted me to experience things from you perspective... you used this world to shape me into something more like you.”
“Yes, and no. What I have truly done here is merely... added a slant.” Nightmare Moon said softly, gazing into his eyes from her only-slight height advantage over the half-pony, half-wyrm. “I merely ensured that when you slept, you stepped into this world... your enjoyments were your own, however, just as together, you and Luna designed the dark city and the black castle of desires within. Not even the Moon Blessed were my creation... they came into being as a result of a mixing of the desires of yourself and little Luna.”
“And where is Luna?” Scrivener asked curiously, but Nightmare Moon only smiled at him softly, shaking her head slowly before she gestured gently with a hoof to the side, and Scrivener followed the motion to gaze past her, towards the outline of some dark, majestic shape near the horizon; a castle, a temple, a catacombs of shadows and desire. “She's distracted there, looking for me, isn't she?”
Nightmare Moon nodded, replying quietly: “You know how things work with Luna, beloved. She is always... hesitant... to take my advice. It is better to give her something else to distract her with when I want a moment to speak to you alone, even if later on I am sure I will suffer the consequences... but at the same time, I do not mind. I am satisfied with what I have accomplished and will pay whatever price is necessary for my actions if I must.”
Scrivener lowered his head, and then he shook it slowly and murmured softly: “But your plan was flawed from the start, Nightmare Moon. Maybe you've made us more similar, but you... you lack empathy, and understanding. I've never lost that, no matter what I... what I've come to enjoy, or this desire for power and strength. And our motives are still different, tinging the world different colors... you seek pleasure and benefit for yourself first of all. Yes, I might seek both of those things, but Luna is always first. Luna has always come first... always will come first.”
“Do not judge me so harshly, Scrivener Blooms, for do I not put you above myself?” Nightmare Moon sounded almost hurt, dropping her head to him humbly even as her eyes flashed with what seemed more like cunning than compassion. “Surely if I do lack sympathy, among other things, the fact that I treat you with such affection must prove my love and loyalty to you far more effectively than it would a gentler pony's.”
“You love me because I'm want you want, Nightmare Moon. At least, that's what I feel sometimes.” Scrivener replied softly, glancing down at his claw hand as he rose and flexed it... and then he glanced up in surprise as the armored, black-coated equine slid forwards and tenderly nuzzled him, smiling as she half-lidded her eyes, her mane swaying slowly backwards with a pulse of starlight that reverberated through both ephemeral locks and the constellations high above.
“No, I love you because you are what I need.” Nightmare Moon responded gently, and the half-wyrm, half-pony shifted awkwardly at this, a hard-to-describe feeling twisting its way through his soul as she smiled at him lovingly. “Good. You like that. And you know it is true... that is why I seek to empower you. Why I have pushed you so hard to understand me and that even my deepest darkness can represent great happiness. Why I have purified you in these nightmares, helping you work your true desires and innermost self to the surface, even though so many ponies fearfully keep themselves beneath so many different masks for the endless, pointless masquerade they all partake in, knowing that to show themselves is to risk rejection and exile. But maybe our new world will be different.”
Scrivener smiled a bit at this, glancing down and saying quietly: “Ponies wear those so-called masks for a reason, Nightmare Moon... obey those social norms and try to fit the status quo out of more than just cowardice-”
“But even that is an admission that at least part of it is indeed cowardice.” Nightmare Moon interrupted pointedly, looking almost excited as she began to pace in a slow, predatory circle around Scrivener as the male followed her with his eyes, wincing a bit despite himself. “I do not believe anypony should have to feel they must hide who they are, or anything else about themselves. Order through conformity makes a mockery of freedom: it's just another system of constraint and subtle enslavement. It is a cruel manipulation, as well... thinking you are free to do as you choose so long as you do what is considered normal, and that any strangeness must be met with hostility and crushed out.”
The earth pony made a bit of a face, then he cocked his head and asked mildly: “So bad ponies like us should be allowed to be bad even in public? What about Pinkamena, you really want her running her mouth off all the time?”
“Now darling, you know I enjoy Pinkamena greatly! She seeks to fit in, but does so without mutilating herself to fit the standards of others. In fact, she could be used to represent the ultimate end I would like to see all ponies reach... not madness, of course, but able to differentiate which rules are pointless and which rules must be followed.” Nightmare Moon responded easily, continuing to pace in a slow circle around him as she studied him intently. “I do not believe in or promote complete anarchy... for freedom to have meaning, it must be structured, it must be monitored, and it must be policed. What I am saying is that there are much better reasons to persecute and punish ponies than for what they like, do not like, and what they enjoy in the privacy and sanctity of their homes.”
“So what you're saying is that every pony should be free to do anything they want, as long as it doesn't interfere with what you think is best for them.” the earth pony said flatly, and Nightmare Moon halted in front of him but smiled in an almost sultry way as she leaned forwards until their noses almost touched.
“The only difference between myself and anyone else is that I admit it freely.” she answered coyly, then laughed as she drew back and gazed off towards the distance, looking almost longing as she said softly: “But I have taken up enough time, and had my fun for now, Scrivener Blooms. You understand my aim, and I understand a little more about you, and relish the fact that in our glorious night we remain together. Yes... you compliment me wonderfully. You seek to understand before you seek to destroy; you extend empathy, and relish pain... both as the giver and the receiver. And given the power you long for, you would strive to protect little Luna, not because she needs it, but to try and return to her everything she does for you, to find value and self-worth in being worthy to her...”
She paused meditatively, saying softly: “In this, I must confess, I find a flaw, a vulnerability, a weakness in you, my beloved, and I say this not for my benefit, but for yours. I speak out of love, not hatred or envy; you fail to understand how you may not protect from monsters outside of us, but you are the solid pillar that defends us against internal mayhem, and unites myself and my sweet and treacherous little Luna. Physical might is like a pretty thing, ornamental and good for the occasional show, but it is not as great and glorious as so many assume. Ponies never feared me because I was a titan, with dark magic that not even my sister could imitate: they feared me because I was ruthless, and merciless, and did anything that was required to achieve my ends. Likewise, Luna is not a good leader simply because of her horn and hooves, howsoever she exaggerates these qualities... it is because she analyzes the battle and pours both passion and experience into the fray.”
The half-pony, half-wyrm studied her silently as she looked over him slowly, then said quietly: “But of course it is alluring for us, and perhaps we influence your lust for strength in its most vulgar form as well... both myself and Luna. We wish for you to be happy... we would do anything to see you smile, and you already have learned to mix the mental and the physical together well on even the roughest battlefield. And pretty things, of course, are always nice to have in surplus. But go now, husband. Luna awaits.”
And with that, Nightmare Moon gestured gently again towards the distance as she gave one last, cryptic smile, bursting apart into blue mist that wafted backwards through the dark night air, and Scrivener watched the azure fog fade quickly out of sight before he shook his head slowly and muttered: “I can't tell if I'm more or less confused now than before... but I guess part of me is glad that it's not just me that's responsible for all this... everything.”
He paused, glancing down, and then he closed his eyes and added quietly: “Not that I can pretend it's all her fault either, though... not with what she implied and said. I wish that I could... I wish that none of this was me, but I made so many choices here, I walked this path myself so willingly, I... I know it's like a drug but...”
Scrivener glanced up quietly, then he shook his head slowly as he began to stride towards the distance, a shiver tearing through him as he lowered his head and stared at the dark ground beneath his feet: mire-like, and yet so different from the rotten putridity that Fenrir had brought with it: this dark soil was fertile and suppliant, just waiting to be seeded for new and exotic life to blossom, only needing a little push in the right direction to perhaps become some wonderland forest of living trees and prehistoric ferns... or perhaps tapers and ivy and nettles and giant mushrooms and toadstools the size of houses.
He smiled wryly at this thought despite himself, shaking his head slowly as he gazed upwards, unsurprised to see that the shape in the distance was much closer than it should have been, distinct and almost glowing against the night sky. It was their ebony castle, towers and battlements standing almost in salute and the doors at the top of the twisting flight of steps gaping invitingly, as if it awaited his return as eagerly as a loyal pet.
The obsidian stairs were warm beneath his hooves and claw as he began to climb them, gazing over the fortress, feeling both enticed and hollow, desirous and fearful. It was a dark lure, and an aphotic treasure-trove: it was his nicotine, his needle, his siren and her song. But inside the Stygian disease awaited his compassionate cure... the one thing that gave meaning to his life, and soothed his savaged soul.
He passed through the gates above, and strode through the darkened courtyard, barely aware of what was around him; it was all just a blur, mixed with the strangest feeling of coming home. Doors opened before him, and he walked through them, until he found himself in the innermost sanctum, the heart of the dark citadel... and at the back of this, Luna awaited him with a smile and a gleam in her eyes.
She lay on the plush bedding, the engraved black pearl swaying slowly around her neck, mane glowing in faint pulses. Around her, the four Moon Blessed rested in their jewelry and golden adornments with heads respectfully bowed, eyes closed and wings furled against their ivory bodies, and Scrivener couldn't help but smile faintly himself as he approached, asking quietly: “You know, huh?”
“I am not an idiot, Scrivener Blooms, and Nightmare Moon underestimates my own guile. Mazes are less difficult when one knocks down walls.” Luna replied quietly, and she stood up as the male approached before the two nuzzled one-another quietly as Scrivener stepped onto the bedding, then shared a tight embrace.
Luna buried her face against the side of his neck, breathing softly, and then she murmured quietly: “I am sorry, Scrivener Blooms. That part of me... that Nightmare Moon part of me... I know what it has done. The darkness inside me grows and grows, given endless sustenance from the carnage of our waking and sleeping hours... and it fuels my desires, my selfishness, my wanting. I was upset at Nightmare Moon for what she did... but I was more upset with myself, Scrivy, because part of me was glad for it. Because I think sometimes that between that manifestation of passion and ego and mine own conscious self, I am the one who comes out the worse.”
Scrivener Blooms squeezed her quietly, tilting his head back and gazing up towards the ceiling as he laughed a bit, murmuring: “Internal struggles and warring with ourselves... the negative side-effect of this soul link. But maybe it's a hidden blessing, Luna... our darkness is mixed together but it only makes that light you shine with so much purer, my Valkyrie princess...”
Luna laughed at this, blushing a bit as she buried her face deeper against his neck, her muzzle brushing against his collar as she stayed tight and close against him... then she smiled a bit as she brought a hoof up to rest against his shoulder, asking quietly: “Then tell me, Scrivener Blooms. Do you fear the nightmares, or wish for dreams of sunlit day or tranquil dusk?”
“I am afraid of them. Of what we do here...” Scrivener glanced up quietly, gazing slowly over the four Moon Blessed as they rose their heads with calm smiles towards him. “Of what it looks like when you dig inside two ponies and force all their secreted and locked-down desires to the surface. I guess life in Hell, living without rules, has just amplified these things too... but yeah. I might be afraid, but I don't... I don't want them to end, either. Not anymore.”
Luna looked up at him, studying him quietly, and then she kissed the side of his neck before gently pulling him backwards, guiding him to lay down before she slid overtop, lightly pinning him by the shoulders as she said softly: “They never have to, my beloved...”
And Scrivener smiled faintly despite himself, reaching up his gnarled claw to gently stroke over her face and bury into her locks as she leaned down and kissed him softly, both ponies loving and regretting, hating and delighting in the decision they silently made as they embraced the shadows in themselves and one-another.