//------------------------------//
// Part 10: Practice makes perfect. 
// Story: True Harmony 
// by Saturni_Rose 
//------------------------------//

Twilight sat numbly in her room, watching Spike scratch his little quill across the page. It felt like it had been weeks since she’d been able to spend any time with him. And here she was orating notes for him to copy so she could review her own compiled thoughts on dream magic. She understood it in theory. It was putting into practice that still eluded her. 
“Okay, page three of direct experience.” he droned as he grabbed another paper, setting the prior one to one side so the ink could dry unscathed. Looking over with tired eyes, he asked: “What happened next, Twi?” 
Twilight didn’t answer at first, instead taking a moment to revisit the memory. She opened her mouth to recall how, again, she’d failed to focus upon accepting dreams worked how they shouldn’t. Part of her regretted trying to practice without either Sunset or Luna. But failing something—especially something to do with magic—sat so poorly with her. Slowly losing out on the chance to help one of the heroes she’d looked up to for so long also ate at her, bit by bit. Even if she wasn’t fully sure why. 
“Hey, hello, back to earth.” Spike snapped his clawed fingers to get her attention. 
“Oh, right.” she said, slowly swiveling her gaze back into focus. “Sorry, buddy.” 
Aside in his chair, he leaned upon the desk at which he’d been dictating, and looked her up and down. “I dunno, girl. Maybe princess Luna was right.” 
“Not a princess.” she corrected, perhaps more pensive and pointedly than she intended. “We had a whole press event, drew up documents, everything.” 
Whatever accidental offense had slipped into her tone seemed to wash over him with an easy shrug. “We’ve talked a loooootta history, Twi. Crowns are an alluring thing.” He pointed, adding: “I still say she’s right, though. You’re seeming pretty out of it. I know you didn’t get a full session outta two now, but they’ve gotta be catching up to you.” 
Almost reflexively, Twilight felt at the spots under her eyes. Unable to feel telltale bags forming yet, she breathed a little easier. “I’m fiiiiiiine,” she said with a dismissive wave, “I’m not even a little bit sleepy. I swear.” 
Spike’s grassy green crest twitched irritably. Reaching back, he placed the stopper into the inkpot and set his pen aside. Then, he turned back and leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “Then what’s eating you?”
“Nothing,” she tried again, “I said I’m fine.” Even as the words left her, she almost wondered if she wasn’t trying to convince herself just as much as him. 
“C’mon.” he squeaked, brows furrowing. “I’ve known you longer than either of those princesses you’ve been obsessing over. You can—”
“Luna isn’t a princess.” she insisted again. 
“Whatever she is, she’s like, one of…” His hands wavered in front of him, thinking on it for a moment. “Well, okay, you talk about way more than three things. But she’s been coming up a lot lately is what I’m trying to get at, here.” 
Twilight bristled uncomfortably. “Perhaps because she’s my colleague, and peer, and we go to book club together?” 
“A book club that was your idea.” He shrugged. “My point here is that we’re friends—I mean sorta—I guess you’re like an older sister maybe?” Shaking his head, he spat out at last: “I’m trying to say you can talk to me, Twi.”
It wasn’t easy to look into those big eyes of his. They were so full of hope and anguish in equal parts. But he was right; he was one of her oldest, best friends. Whether said relationship was like that of siblings, however, remained to be seen. If anything, she’d hatched his egg and taken care of him when he couldn’t do so himself, so perhaps she’d be more like his m—
She let go of the thought, it being very much not the point. “You’re right. You’re my little buddy, and I haven’t been super fair to you lately.” 
Spike might have started to say something about it not even being this recent shadow business she was also being rather secretive about. But the words fell away with the ground as her magic enveloped him, levitating him over. Whatever protest he might still be lingering also faded when she hugged him. 
“This is nice,” he told her, clinging to the hooves that held him, “but I’d still like to know what’s going on.” 
Twilight sighed. “Just a lot of complicated, messy feelings, Spike. It’s hard to explain.” 
“Ah.” said Spike sagely. Prying himself from her embrace, he looked up and simply asked: “So which princess is it?” 
Twilight’s eyebrows shot up at first, surprised at him. Then, more curtly she furrowed them back down to say: “Would you stop calling Luna a princess?” 
“She’ll come back around to royal life.” he said, very assured of it. 
Pursing her lips, she sat him back down in his high sitting desk chair. “You say that. I really think she means to leave it behind.”
“Hmph.” he scoffed, amused. 
“No, really. The way she talks about that part of her life, it’s always so bitter and remorseful.” Twilight shook her head at the thought. “She really does seem to want a calmer, more normal life. Free of all the responsibility.” 
“She tell you about her personal life a lot, does she?” Spike’s grin was churlish, and brow quirked high. He chuckled when her ears folded back and her cheeks went pink. “You didn’t think I’d let go that easy, did you?” 
“It’s not like that.” she insisted, turning the other way to pout, hooves crossing. A moment passed them by. “At least. I mean. I don’t think it is.” 
Spike gaped at her, eyes narrowing. “Huh?” 
Peering back over her shoulder, Twilight’s wing fidgeted. “Okay, look, I was maybe a little smitten with her that night we went to see her together.” 
“That was a little obvious.” When she whirled around, he held his hands and chin up high disarmingly. “Hey, it’s not my fault you laid down on her bed next to her making googoo eyes, okay?” 
“And it isn’t my fault I received an all too easily misinterpreted cheek kiss.” Twilight realized how high up she was standing at the end of that. Sitting back down, she cleared her throat. “Point being, yes, I may have been a little head over heels at first—all too easily really—but I don’t really know that I feel that way about her. At least, not anymore. I mean.” Quivering in place, her eyes stared off. She sank in her chair. “Ugh. I don’t know how I feel. About anypony.” 
Spike reached out to comfort her, but her leg slipped away to drag her hooves down across her eyes. 
“These dumb feelings are all so hard to understand. Why can’t love and admiration be like mathematics or science or arcana?” One hoof cut downward upon the other with a click. “Those are concrete. Easy to parse with logic and reason.”
Quietly, Spike scratched under his chubby little chin as she stewed, slumped in her chair. His crest bristled when a thought occurred to him. One finger raised, he suggested: “What if there is a logic to it, just, like, a fuzzy one you’re less good at?”
“Fuzzy.” she repeated, dryly. The idea sat between them for a moment, like a heavy stone in need of moving. 
“Think about those antique clocks you like to tinker with as a hobby.” He shrugged casually, adding: “Even if I still don’t get it.” 
“Having something moving in front of me—parts or a puzzle, it helps me work through my thoughts.” she said rather solemnly. Almost as if she were ashamed. 
“Right, sorry, not the point.” Holding his hands out in front of him, he locked the fingers in the closest approximation he could manage. “Sometimes you have to go through your box of gear thingies because the teeth are different shapes and don’t line up right. And, well…” He pointed. “Maybe that’s you.” 
She kept her eyes on him, ponderous but quiet. So he went on. 
“Okay, okay, I know I joke around, but I don’t think there’s anything actually wrong with you. Like, maybe you just have different shaped teeth in you that catch and connect… differently.” Going sheepish, he scratched at the back of his neck, crest smoothing back. “I dunno. This is probably dumb and I’m explaining it bad.” 
“What? No way.” Twilight shook her head. “I think you put it quite eloquently.” More eased in her demeanor and posture, she drew his chair over and wrapped her wing around him gently. Then, with a smirk, said: “Also it should be: ‘explaining it poorly.’”
In an instant, his chuffed expression gave way to humdrum, drole, nonplussed displeasure. “You really know how to ruin a moment, huh?” 
Stifling a snicker, she told him: “Well, if I do, it’s not my fault. It’s my different shaped teeth.” 
A knock on the door spoiled the moment further. When given permission to enter, Sunset Shimmer poked her head through. “Hey, Twi, you ready? It’s almost time for book club.” 
Twilight knew the part she was leaving out was more dream walking practice with Luna after. Tired eyes gawked at her a moment. Then, she kissed Spike’s forehead, telling him: “We’ll catch up later, okay?” 
He gripped at her hoof, keeping her just a little longer. “Better keep that promise, Sparkle.” 





Luna’s mind went lost into a fog when she heard it. She blinked, eyes tensing, fraught with apprehension. “I’m sorry?” she asked. “What did you say the holiday was called?” 
Fluttershy lowered the book in her hooves to meet Luna’s confused stare, her own eyes going wide, mouth slightly agape. She glanced around at the other participants; it had been a lackluster book club session thus far, but now they failed her all the more. “Um,” she stammered, “well, you see, the uh, the holiday, well it’s called—” 
“Wait,” said Luna, halting her, “you needn’t be nervous.” Sorrow crept into her own voice, her hooves slowly coming together. “I apologize if I seem upset. Rather, I’m… taken aback is all.” 
“I would have thought someone would have told you about it by now.” chimed in Twilight, mortified, ears folded back. She rested this week’s book across her lap. 
Sunset Shimmer blankly stared at nothing in particular. Though, it might have partially been how tired she still felt, even a couple days later. She’d never even finished the book Twilight had given her in hopes she’d come. All she could manage was: “Yeah. Yeesh.” 
Luna’s mouth was tight as she glanced around their circle of chairs, all thoughts on the book seemingly left behind. It was just as well, since she hadn’t finished it. Closing her copy, she said: “Look, girls, we’ve all been preoccupied since the start of fall.” She pointed. “Rarity, you’ve got your commissions from the gala. And AJ, you’ve had your hooves full with cider season.” 
“I mean, I guess.” said Applejack, twiddling with her hair tie. The grimace she wore still spoke of some small shame she refused to let go of. 
“I suppose.” added Rarity, looking the other way when she noticed at last she’d come here still wearing her little pincushion. 
Rainbow glanced around at the dour faces, somewhat glad to seemingly be done talking about this week’s book. It just was not her speed at all. Far too morose. “On the bright side,” she said, attempting to alleviate the mood, “it is a pretty fun holiday. Definitely one of my favorites.” Weak smirk growing, she leaned back in her chair, adding: “So, thanks for that, Luna. I think?” 
“Don’t be so nonchalant about this, Dashie.” pleaded Fluttershy, concern washing over her. 
“I wouldn’t really call myself being nonchalant, Flutters.” Dash nodded her head to one side to fwip the bangs of her namesake from her eyes. 
Applejack let a chuckle through. “Why? ‘Cause you don’t know what it means?” 
“Oh, it usually refers to one being aloof or sometimes unconcerned.” piped up Twilight in a friendly enough tone. Once the glares Dash and AJ had given each other worked their way over to her, she realized with a start: “Ah, that was rhetorical, wasn’t it?” She smiled nervously. “Sorry.” 
“More of a friendly barb, hon.” Sunset reached over and pat her on the shoulder. 
“At any rate,” spoke Luna, retaking control, “you said it’s called ‘Nightmare Night?’ And this holiday, it’s… fun?” 
“Super fun.” assured Rainbow. Her hooves gestured with excitement. “Everypony dresses up in costumes like monsters, all running around trying to scare the tails off each other.” 
“And that’s fun?” Luna shrugged. She didn’t get it. There had been other holidays partially at her expense the modern Equestrian seemed to enjoy. She’d gotten to return just in time to experience one, after all. Perhaps she ought not get so caught up in the part she played, however passive. 
Humdrum, Fluttershy slowly shook her head at Luna. “I never found it much fun.” 
“I mean, you’ve grown a lot.” offered Dash. She leaned over to playfully nudge her. “Especially over summer. Spending time with Luna rubbed off on ya. Maybe this will finally be the year.” 
Fluttershy couldn’t help but waver at the thought. Gripping at her elbow, she said: “I might have thought the same. But I don’t know if I can give it a chance. It’s just… without Pinkie…” 
Dash’s liveliness faltered in an instant. “Yeah. It really won’t be the same.” 
One by one, the circle of mares grew despondent. Timidly, AJ asked Luna: “Still no word from the guard?” She bristled with thought when Luna slowly shook her head. Her hoof went to stroke her fuzzy chin, but she ended up nervously chewing on it instead. “I just can’t figure it.” 
Luna felt a wave of pin-pricks rush up her neck. Relief found her when Rarity interrupted to say: “She would have loved to hear they’re hosting a play in the square for Nightmare Night.” 
“A play?” asked Luna. 
“Mayor Mare was being really hush-hush about it the other day. Oh, didn’t I mention?” Looking around, Rarity gauged she, in fact, had not yet brought this up as she’d thought. “Well, she came to see about borrowing some of my wares for their costuming budget, you see. I agreed, of course, but well, she wouldn’t give me a single tip for the life of me. Seems to be the work of a mysterious new playwright, but I’m sure it’s plenty fitting for the season in some form or other.” 
Luna’s shoulders tensed, like a weight had suddenly dropped upon them. She hadn’t known Pinkie was fond of theater. There were still so many things she wanted to talk to her about. Such as finally learning what a cheerleader is; they’d never gotten the chance to clear that one up for her. Chimes drew her back to the moment, though, and she noted the library’s main clock. It was closing time. She blinked slowly and drew a long breath. 
“It would seem our allotted time for book club has come to an end.” announced Luna. She stood up, letting her copy rest on the chair she left behind. Watching the others shuffle to their hooves around her, still solemn, she told them: “I’m… sure some good news is right around the corner, girls.” 
“I s’pose you’re right.” Applejack drew their attention, adding: “Why, I bet Pinkie’d want us to keep our spirits high ‘till she got back.” 
“Yeah.” reluctantly agreed Rainbow. She nodded. “You’re right, AJ.” 
“Maybe she had to return to the Pie family farm.” offered Fluttershy tepidly, hoof tapping her chin. 
“Lots of things are possible,” said Rarity, “but nevertheless, let us not lose hope. Not yet.” 
Luna felt their moods lift, and thought to try her luck. “I certainly don’t want that. She has a shift tomorrow morning, heheh?” 
Stiff chuckles burbled up. Loudest among them was Rainbow, drawing their smiles, if only for a moment. Her own turned wry. “Oh, Luna, she would have loved that one, it was… so awful!”
Covering her mouth, Luna asked: “Are you alright, Rainbow?” 
“Yeah, yeah.” She shied away from their concerned faces. Dash didn’t want them to see her like this. “It’s just… it’s hard, I guess, ya know? She’s one of my best friends, and I guess I… I feel like I let her down.” 
Every urge spurred Luna to go to her. But Fluttershy was already there, wing over her shoulders, saying: “There, there, Dashie. We’ll all get through this together.” 
The others moved to embrace her, but Rainbow slipped beyond their cloying hugs with a stubborn chin held high. “Alright, alright, I’m good.” she told them. Quick as she could, she brushed away at the corner of her eye. “I’m fine.” 
Out she went, and Fluttershy hesitated in the dim light of sunset. Before leaving, she turned to the others, saying: “Goodnight, everypony, we love you and we’ll see you around.” 
Rarity and Applejack watched them briskly depart and shared a knowing look. “That’s our Rainbow,” sighed AJ with a little shake of her head, “proud as ever.” 
“It’s no wonder then you two get along so swimmingly.” teased Rarity, punctuating the thought by gently giving Applejack’s snout a playful poke when she turned to object. “Although, she’s not the only mare wearing a brave face for our sake.” 
Luna stiffened when the two of them peeked back at her rather than continue out the door after the others. Their eyes practically gleamed with intent. “What,” feigned Luna, “me?” 
“Don’t play ignorant. Ain’t no way a fib’s getting past me.” assured Applejack confidently. Alongside Rarity, the two stood as bulwarks against the fading orange light outside, defiant. 
“Really, I can’t imagine what’s going through your head.” added Rarity. “A summer love turned sour, and then she vanishes?” Her hoof went across her forehead. “It’s like something right out of one of my favorite melodramatic romance novels.” 
Feeling the princesses at her sides, Luna bristled ever so slightly. “I appreciate the concern, girls. I most certainly do.” She nodded her head to one member of sitting royalty, subtly as she could, then the other. “But might we discuss my personal life another time?” 
Harsh, scrutinizing eyes of azure washed over Luna. Then, Rarity relinquished. “I understand completely.” she had to admit, closing her eyes to shake her head. “Just know that your friends are here for you, whenever you need us.” 
Applejack lingered, even as her partner turned to go. She stared at Luna a moment longer, seeing the lie, but not the intent. For the moment, she let it go with a sigh. “Alrighty. We’ll be around when you feel ready to talk.” 
Hesitancy held Luna in place longer than she liked. But in the end, she did close the door after them, settling the matter for now when the lock clicked into place. Turning, she found another set of eyes fixed upon her in wonderment and judgment both. 
“What?” she asked them plainly. 
Sunset shifted uncomfortably. “Hrm, maybe it’s not my place to say.” 
“We just didn’t know you hadn’t told the others.” added Twilight, perhaps not catching onto the fact that Sunset didn’t want to say it aloud. Just as likely, she didn’t care. 
“They have their own lives to worry about.” asserted Luna, leaving the doorway behind. “I don’t want them to have to drop it to fret over my monster.” Pensive, she looked from one unimpressed princess to the other. Powder blue locks tumbled over her shoulder when she shook her head. “Not again.” 
Twilight steepled her hooves under her chin. “I do hear what you’re saying. However, they’re not just ordinary, mundane everyday ponies anymore.They’re bound to the Elements of Harmony. Have they gotten any practice at all with their respective elements since the Summer Sun incident?” 
Luna’s head bobbed with a start, and her stride across the room stopped short. She realized they hadn’t so much as discussed it once. But that could hardly be fair, expecting them to become guardians of their kingdom simply by virtue of having been at her side when the task fell to her. “Such a burden.” she said bleakly. It was always bound to catch up to her. “Should it truly be forced upon anyone?” 
“I suppose it’s not fair the stones chose them for it without asking.” said Sunset. She went over and laid a hoof upon her stiff shoulder. “But they did choose to be there for you before when it happened. Don’t you think they’d want to be there for you again?” 
“I just…” Luna huffed, lowering her gaze to meet hers. Each of them seemed tired, their eyes glazed over. Perhaps the two of them weren’t so different. Not that she’d be saying that out loud any time soon. “I loathe being a burden to others. Despise it.” 
Sunset shrugged. “Then don’t be. A good relationship involves give and take. So give them back everything you take. One step at a time.” 
Behind them, unnoticed, Twilight’s eyes lit up. There was something she felt she finally understood. 
Luna, meanwhile, felt her ear flicker. She thought back to what Marble had told her. “When did you get so wise?” 
Leaning back, she flashed a confident grin. “I’ve been this wise. I just lost sight of that for a while when you came into my life.” 
Confounded, Luna watched her prance off toward the staircase. When Twilight sidled up next to her, an expectant look got no answer beyond an amused, if shy shrug. One princess followed the other, leaving the former princess on the landing alone. 
“I suppose we can worry about that over the weekend.” Sunset shimmer nodded up towards her room where extra bedrolls were waiting. “For now, let’s focus on dream walking.” 





Another day of rest arrived, capstone to the week. With the skies above Canterlot slowly fading to sky blue, queen Celestia took a moment to break her fast. Autumn winds climbed high up to the balcony she chose. Nothing the evening wear she still had on couldn’t combat, so she tugged the collar tighter as she looked over the streets beyond the castle walls. They were already filling in with ponies going to and fro, ready to seize the day, even if traditionally, it was meant to be taken off. 
Petra and Nimbus stood on guard nearby. Albeit, somewhat slack. Their posture was far too relaxed for proper guard etiquette, but Celestia didn’t mind. She knew they were capable. They were also the closest thing she had to friends these days, as unprofessional as that was of her. Either way, she said nothing on the matter while adding a couple lumps of sugar to her morning tea. With the first sip, she drank in the sounds of the city waking up, and the two of them chatting. It was fairly serene. 
A crackling pop of energy exploded in the sky nearby. Celestia stood from the end table, trying to find the space where she’d caught, just out of the corner of her eye, some flash of blue. It seemed a familiar shade, but she couldn’t be sure. Tensely, her guards hopped into the open air and began searching for danger. 
The danger saw them first, and politely as she could manage, said: “Hello. Sorry to bother you.” 
“Luna.” gaped Celestia, shoulders going slack. She fell back into her chair as one guard zipped over to hug her, then the other. 
“It’s so good to see ya, girl!” Petra exclaimed. 
“How’ve you been?!” shouted Nimbus. 
Luna laughed, patting them each on the shoulder as they struggled to stay in flight with how they entangled. She gingerly eased their way over towards the balcony, answering: “Fine, I’m fine. I-it’s nice to see you as well.” 
“To what do we owe the pleasure, sister?” Celestia eased back in her chair, blowing steam from her cup before having another sip, awaiting an answer. 
Luna’s own mouth went dry, though she wasn’t sure if it was because she felt lingering offense in her tone, or because she envied the heavenly aroma of that tea. Licking her lips, she said: “I know we mentioned chatting more once things calmed down a little more. I hope it’s okay if I’m a touch early to that offer.” 
The queen stared, nonplussed. A wind climbed the castle wall, tossing her pastel hair about behind her. She herself remained unmoved, thoughts still quietly dancing across her unyielding face. When her mane settled back, a little smirk grew and she kicked the other chair out from under the table. “But of course, dear sister.” 
As she sat down, Luna felt the guard pair gather round. They looked on, excited to have time to hang out with the two of them. It pained her to disappoint them. “May I… speak with her alone for a bit?” 
“Mm, yes,” agreed Celestia, turning her oh so warm smile toward her guards, “why don’t you two send for another cup for our surprise guest?” 
The pair thought to protest. They did miss Luna, after all. But they acquiesced just the same. Luna and Celestia watched them disappointedly march through the exit back into the corridor, disappearing round the wall. They waited until the hoofsteps were more faded. 
“So?” said Celestia, a smile creeping anew across her face. Her shrewd, narrowed eyes said she knew a pony who needed something from her when she saw one. After all, a good monarch is always considering the needs of their people. “What did you need to discuss, sister dear?” 
At first, Luna shrank into her seat. She was only a few feat across from her. They hadn’t been this close together since the press conference. Not in the real world, anyway. Clicking her hooves together, she drew a long breath and admitted: “I have a problem I think only you could relate to.” 
“Is that right?” Her magic moved a cucumber sandwich off a tray and she took a bite before nodding an offering to Luna. When refused, she nodded, asking: “And what that might be?” 
Meeting her eyes grew hard. Luna shifted in her seat. “Look. I apologize for coming to you not out of love, but in need.” 
Celestia’s mouth paused, second bite ready, but not following through. Setting the sandwich down, she said: “What? Oh, dear, no. I’m actually quite glad you came to me.” 
“Really?” Luna remained unconvinced. “You seem so… stiff.” 
Her laugh was deep and full of mirth. “Luna, it’s cold up here. I’m trying not to shiver.” 
The laughter was contagious. “I should have thought of that myself. I’ll try to be brief, for both our sakes.” 
“Is it to do with what I think it is?” she asked her sister, concern coming back into her expression. “I do hope Twilight and Sunset are of help to you in this.” 
“It is.” Luna said quietly, leaning forth. “Oh, but, they are. They are. I think we’re almost ready to try and trace it. It’s just, well…” 
Celestia watched her sister’s faltering gaze veer out over the city. She snuck a few bites and another sip, trying to give her room to arrive upon the point herself. When that didn’t happen, she cleared her throat. “If either of the princesses said something to you they shouldn’t have, I could always have a word with th—”
“Oh, no, nothing like that.” spat Luna lurching back toward her, hooves waving away such a thought. “Sorry, this has been rather difficult for me. And I’m afraid I’m a touch exhausted, being so out of practice in dream walking.” 
Leaning forward, Celestia pat her hoof. “It’s okay. I, meanwhile, I’m…” She withdrew her hoof. It had been so long since it touched her sister’s. A wavering smile grew. “I’m very happy you had some faith in me left.” 
“A good deal of love too.” Luna calmly admitted as her sister choked up. “Despite everything. It’s why I came to you instead of talking this over with the princesses.” 
“Right, right.” said Celestia collecting herself with a deep breath. “Catch up and make up later, issues at hoof, et cetera.” She fanned her face a touch and blinked away to stop any tears from forming. Gesturing for her to continue at last, she said: “And this issue is?” 
Luna took a long breath herself, and let it go very slowly. “I haven’t told my friends about the shadow. Much less my theory that it’s behind Pinkie’s disappearance.” 
The queen blinked at her a moment before taking a thoughtful sip of tea. “So, I won’t tell you what to do here right away. But walk me through why you haven’t.” 
Dark blue wings shifted, allowing Luna to lean back and look up headlong into the sky. The stars above were fading fast as morning encroached upon them. “I’ve spent so long thinking of this as my burden to bear. They walked into having to deal with it alongside me once. I… wanted to save them a second encounter.” 
When Celestia smiled again, it was bordering on smarmy. “Then you still think like a royal.” She held up her hooves in a disarming manner to stave off the glare she got. Gesturing out over the city, she added: “Seriously. You think those citizens waking up to the day out there know even half of what we do? Sometimes, we tuck away that darkness for their own good. Think of how many less monsters they have to deal with than we did. Now, so many of them are the stuff of legend that fill books. Just like the ones you now keep.” 
Tense azure eyes peered over the city. The memories her sister poked at—all of them—they stirred in her mind. She could feel her brows tightening down like the clasps on platemail armor pieces. “As I recall, many of those monsters were themselves equine. Or the creation thereof.” 
“True.” said a queen whose coat was shockingly clean and pristine. “Equestria’s enemies have been numerous and various. But we’ve done all we can to protect it, every painful step of the way.” Again, she pointed. “Whether they know the full story or not.” 
Something about what her sister was getting at didn’t sit right with her. A lump sat in Luna’s stomach. It could be she was still quite thirsty. “They’re not my subjects, though,” she said, uneasy, “they’re my friends. Some of the best I’ve ever had.” 
Celestia shrugged. “Royalty has still kept secrets from friends in the past.” She nodded to the corridor Petra and Nimbus had disappeared into minutes prior. “I love those two girls. They still don’t know everything about me. What I’ve seen, what I’ve done.” 
What her sister was saying, it sickened Luna. Partly because she was right. Much as she loved the girls, she’d spared them so many details of her long life. “They’re…” Her eyes wavered. She tried to sit upright again. “They’re also bound to the Elements of Harmony. Don’t you think they should know? Don’t you think they should practice?” 
“Did they practice before eradicating Nightmare’s primary form?” Closing her eyes, the queen enjoyed the last couple bites of her sandwich. Daintily, she dabbed a napkin at the corner of her mouth. “Besides, without Pinkie, we won’t have the Elements’ full power regardless.” 
Tensed hooves ran over Luna’s troubled head as she slumped in her seat. This didn’t help her decide at all. One eye broke through the part in her frayed locks, piercing gaze upon her sister—her queen as she picked another, clearly still peckish. The sight was unbelievable. She and her were cut from the same cloth; they always would be. And though she no longer lived in the same world as her sister, she’d never be fully free from it, either, so it seemed. 
Celestia considered the dark blue shape wringing itself up across from her. Her eyes softened. Setting aside breakfast, she moved her chair closer. Luna didn’t resist when she put her hooves around her. “I’m sorry, dear. I know it’s difficult and unfair, how your past seems to never leave you behind. They are… your friends, though, you’re right. If you feel you can trust them with this…” 
She was right again. They were her friends. And right now, only the stars and moon above knew where one of them was, and how she was hurting. “I just want to do whatsoever it shall take to make sure none of them ever need suffer again.” She shivered, gripping at her sister’s foreleg. “On my name and reputation, I swear this.” 
Celestia went cold, eyes darting far off and away. She held her little sister just the same, convincing herself it was another breeze, and not an all too familiar fury, icy as the northron ponies’ idea of the underworlds that awaited sinners such as she. They stayed there, just like that, quiet until Petra and Nimbus returned. 





Elsewhere, a pink mare in a white jacket shook in her own seat. Her gilded mask wore a smile, beneath which shone another. The shiver down her spine told her somepony was talking about her. And she had a great idea of who. Deep down, she couldn’t wait to see her again. 
For now, she pushed herself up and out of her unfolded chair. Striding across the floor, she clicked her hooves together in approval. “Really nice job, everyone. I’m so pleased this is coming together. Let’s not lose sight of the fact that opening night is this week, though.” 
Actors pensively shuffled around in the auditorium. She pointed out the griffin, who froze in place, a few feathers faltering, falling faintly astray. 
“I especially need a little more from you.” Hopping over, she spread out her wings, jostling her feathers lightly. Then, she drew one of them down in front of her beak, like a cloak pulled against a brisk wind. “Your aggression is perfect for your monster scenes. But I want darker, broodier when you’re with our leading lady. Really show me how much you regret this monstrous form coming between you two.” 
“Sure thing, hoss.” said Gilda, trying to stay cool. When the director took a step back and gestured for her, she picked a position out of a scene she liked. She made sure to enunciate loudly, since her back was turned, wings slightly unfolded to seem bigger, claws poised manically as though ready to tear at her own beak. “‘Do you not see, Philomena? Nary can I escape my past. It shall always be there, a haunting specter on the rest of my life forevermore!’” 
The director watched her coil inward, shaking with pretend anguish. She nodded. “Good, good. Why don’t we run the final scene once more, but try it with you in full costume? We need to make sure it won’t restrict or overheat you.” 
Gilda nodded. She couldn’t remember what made her agree to any of this in the first place, but playing this character was pretty fun. She especially enjoyed over enunciating in that archaic speech pattern. “You got it, boss.” 
Loudly as she could, the director smacked her hooves for attention. “Okay, take a break, folks. But be at places and ready to run the final scene in about thirty while we get our star all dressed up.” 
She took Gilda along with her, giddy as she went. This was going to be an excellent show. The ending, especially, promised to be a real heart stopper.