//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 Part 1 // Story: Moonlit Stranding // by DarthBall //------------------------------// There was another gap in my memory. A before, and the immediate now. A raging storm, a roiling sea, a monster with slitted eyes. It didn’t matter that I knew it was a dream and that Luna’s devilry reached through the astral plane—the events were already slipping from my mind like a clump of sand through my fingers. And because of that, I felt my entire recollection of events was suspect. My brain had been starving for oxygen, Luna’s magic burning the skin off my bones, and the whole world shrouded in darkness as I plummeted into the waters below. Then I remembered it. The fall and the rancid taste of pennies and gasoline. And I remembered again the dreadful terror of it filling my lungs, my throat, and the ceaseless, thundering ringing pounding in my ears and heart, the screams and pleas for help smothered in their cradles. There had been no means of escape—my wings could not slice through the thick, syrupy membrane I was trapped within. I was encased entirely in this molasses, unable to do anything to stave off the cold nipping at my limbs while my chest burned. Such a familiar and painful way to die. And there would be no divine intervention from Celestia to save me when I stopped breathing this time. Fear bled into acceptance as my lungs had finally given up. I had wanted to die with my humanity. It was the last wish of a dying man, unburdened by any sense of rationality, and it was the one I had grasped above all others. It was a wish I thought would never be granted, not with prayer or desperate feelings. Until it was. Terrible, terrible, wrong sensations. Faces. Places. Feelings. Faded pictures with washed-away colors and no context. They flooded into me alongside the liquid fire that burned my throat and lungs, and I was certain I’d suffer an aneurysm from the strain. The threaded needle came next. Even within the ceaseless dark, I could remember seeing it—a thick tendril, no different from any of the others I had the misfortune of seeing before. It slithered through the water like an eel, not even waiting for its prey to perish before it had its fill. My wings reflexively twitched as it slowly and deliberately slithered into my forehead, piercing through the skin and causing my already ajar mouth to widen further in painful shock. And then it pushed. I gasped for air with a pained wheeze. Coughing up my lungs in an asthmatic fit was no less uncommon of an event now than it had been before I stepped foot outside my gilded cage. Still, compared to previous events… this all paled in comparison to what I usually suffered. But before I could ponder upon that train of thought, I blinked in a harsh, unexpected light. Time froze. My body was already on autopilot as I leaned to the side, and with all the force it could muster, the firm plastic wheel I white-knuckled was wrenched sharply to the right. My organs jostled at the sudden weight transfer, and I felt as if my eardrums were going to rupture from the sudden horn blaring right toward me. My head spun like a spinning top, the afterimage of the bright light lingering within my vision. This all happened in a microsecond, and it wasn’t until my left foot reflexively slammed onto something metallic that I came to a lurching stop. Time resumed. A full gulp of air trailed down my lungs within the blink of an eye, followed by a confounding sense of disorientation. The foul stench of the ocean was gone, replaced by a plethora of familiar and unfamiliar scents. Dust, dirt, lingering smells from old carpet and upholstery, and even a hint of lemon. Lukewarm air sputtered into my face, taking some of the edge away from the freezing chill that spread up from my extremities. But regardless of the cold and sharp pins and needles driving themselves through my fingertips, I refused to relinquish my iron grip on the steering wheel. I breathed in deeply again. Once. Twice. Despite the sudden rush of adrenaline, I was trapped in a perpetual state of shock, and none of my limbs obeyed me. I couldn’t even curl a single toe or blink as I stared out of the frosted window into a seemingly infinite expanse of white. Where? Where- The wind bellowed on the left side of the vehicle, shifting its path on the ever-expanding road, dusted thrice over with a firm blanket of snow. A quick thought of relief crossed my mind, patting myself on the back for fixing the issue that caused the driver-side window to be perpetually rolled down a quarter of the way before the storm hit. “-shaping up to be one for the history books, folks. We haven’t seen a storm this severe since the Blizzard of ‘77!” Instantly, I felt the need to jump out of my skin at the sound of the unfamiliar baritone voice trying to claw its way through a burst of static. Rather than fall into another bout of anxiety-driven panic, however, determination subsumed all other sensations warring for dominance within my body. My right arm flexed, pulling tightly at a lever off my side, and the sound of dry leaves crunching underneath boots drowned out the drumming beat of my heart. No, not leaves. Snow. Just like- My thoughts returned to the throne room and the piles of endless snow while my body stubbornly remained on autopilot. Conflicting ideas and thoughts floated about in my headspace, all crying for attention like barking dogs. Chief among them, about how far gone I was—trapped in another dream within a nightmare, all while my body was undoubtedly freezing to the bone in Luna’s clutches. There was no telling about what was happening. For all I knew, I was already on death's door, or perhaps even worse… Luna had woken up before I did, no worse for wear than before. For all intents and purposes, I couldn’t rule either of these scenarios out, and this terrified me. And yet, there was no adverse reaction to this knowledge, inward or outward. The same air of collected, dogmatic narrowmindedness remained steadfast within me. It was as if I had taken a backseat in my mind and let something else take control. Not a moment later, a second voice filled the uneasy silence. “That’s right, John. We’re urging everyone to follow the travel ban guidelines and to stay indoors and off the roads. The snow is coming down so hard and fast that it’s impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you.” The muscles in my body suddenly went rigid, and an air of uncertainty washed over it. A dry mouth, a suddenly sensitive stomach, and an annoying onset of heartburn soon followed, and the ghost of someone’s face flashed before my eyes. The distraction was enough to peel my mind away from the current situation. It wasn’t until I was jolted back into my seat that I noticed I was moving again, engine gears grinding and tires scraping at the layer of snow underneath. Wait. Wait- I stared, looking as far as my limited perception allowed. Stitch. Stitch. The image of threads and needles weaving together in my mind, followed by a burst of clarity. “Old fashioned” was the first thing that came to the forefront of my mind. Everything, from the deep burgundy interior and the millions of plastic buttons adorning the dashboard to the firm yet comfortable plastic of the steering wheel, felt aged. Worn in. A hand-me-down old enough to belong in a museum but reliable enough to go the distance and back. Even the cramp just below the shoulders in my back was a well-known feeling. And despite its annoyance, I felt as if I had been reacquainted with an old friend. Context continued to flood back to me in brief spurts. Places, people, events—blurry photos that had faded from age, but I still remember how they made me feel. And with that knowledge, I knew exactly why I was desperate enough to brave the cold. “We’ve received numerous reports of accidents and pile-ups alongside Transit road and the surrounding areas. Please, if you must travel, take it slow and be extra cautious. The wind is causing whiteout conditions, and it’s easy to lose your way.” I spared a single glance at the rearview mirror and the propped-up body in the backseat covered under a pile of blankets. Mom. My body leaned forward, staring intently at the road. The skies were dark, and even with the car’s headlights, visibility was nearly zero as dense fog and heavy snowfall blanketed the road ahead. True to the warnings of the radio hosts, I could see the silhouettes of abandoned cars along the sides of the road, and I could feel myself swallowing down a lump in my throat. The engine whined in protest at the prospect, but my foot pressed gently on the gas, goading the lumbering beast to continue its slow trek across the frozen tundra. Five. Fifteen. Twenty-five miles per hour. Snow slushed underneath the tires as the muffler huffed and puffed like an asthmatic. “-find yourself stranded, stay in your car and call for help. Don’t try to walk in these conditions; the wind chill alone could be fatal.” Stitch. Stitch. 1989. One year before anti-lock brake systems became standard on the Honda Accord. Having all-season tires did little to help matters—they were designed for precisely what it says on the tin, and that meant compromises. They weren’t rated for anything beyond light snow, and this storm was too busy defying all expectations. For this reason, I maintained my slow and steady pace, keeping my head on a swivel as I passed by the carcass of a silver Corolla. Thankfully, no one was inside, and this became a running theme with each car I swept passed. Paradoxically, I knew I was traveling faster in this blizzard than during regular hours. It was another helpful boon to keep my spirits up, even as I weaved between a silver Mercedes and a sport-red Impala. Another burst. Implicit memory told me that I had just passed the Transit Lanes bowling alley, and I would not argue against that little factoid, especially knowing that this memory was already set in sto- VVVRRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG! My eyes remained glued to the road. Another dozen cars were scattered haphazardly on the road, and I slowed to a crawl to squeeze by. There was too much snow already on the ground to risk stopping, and I knew I’d get a heart attack if I tried to shovel any of it off when I inevitably got stuck. But that didn’t stop the muffled noise and faint buzzing against my leg. It wasn’t until the fourth ring that I was able to drive in a straight line again, and it wasn’t until the fifth that I hastily fished the smartphone out of my pocket and answered. “Sarah?” I switched on the phone’s speakers before slotting it in the flat divot in front of the air vent beside me. I spared a second glance at the rearview mirror, noticing small and subtle movements from underneath the mountain of blankets. They stopped as quickly as they started, and my mother was instantly lulled back into an exhausted sleep. “Danny? How is she? How’s Mom? Where are you?” I exchanged another glance with the pile of covers in my rearview mirror. After hearing her dulcet voice, a lifetime’s worth of emotions gnawed to escape its bottled cage, but there was no outward reaction. No suddenly unfocused gaze from eyes prickling with tears. No slowed, languid movements. No cracking voice, desperately reaching out to make up for lost time. By all accounts, I had seen her just a few hours prior, and within this memory, I had no reason to think otherwise. “Power was cut to the whole street when I found her, but I got her out just before the worst of the storm rolled in.” My lackluster response did little to assuage her fears, and I could hear the floorboards underneath Sarah’s feet creak through the speakers as she paced around. “She’s sleeping it all off right now.” Snow and sleet buffeted the windshield, which the wipers clawed and scraped at tooth and nail to clear from the glass. It was an uphill battle of attrition, one that my windshield was currently losing as General Winter’s forces slowly carved out more territory. Sarah sighed, and an awkward pause filled the air before she found her voice again. “Please tell me you’re almost home.” “I had to take a detour. The 99 is utterly gridlocked with abandoned cars right now,” I said before sputtering into a pained wheeze. It was painful to even exist in this cold, and my asthma was doing little to help matters. “Danny?” “J-Just a bit of a-” I coughed into the steering wheel. “Flare-up. I’m cutting through Transit, and if I can squeeze through to Maple, I might be able to make it back before things get really ugly.” “We both know that it isn’t just a flare-up.” “And we both know that emergency services can’t do a damn thing right now.” My heart sank as I spotted a plow truck, of all things, directly off the side of the road. It was a goddamn punchline—the rescuers needing rescue. The driver's side door was ajar, and snow was already piling into the vacant seat, stuffing it like a thanksgiving turkey. I shook my head. “Don’t you die on me now. Don’t you fucking dare, you goddamn idiot!” There was so much more I wanted to say, so much more I wanted to do. I wanted to be there for her and give something more than an unfulfilled promise. But this was nothing more than a scene in a movie, and the plot was already set in stone. And in this scene, the actors knew there was no time for idle chat. “We’ll see you soon, sis. I promise.” The phone clicked a moment later. No sooner than I uttered my empty assurance, my skin became as pallid as the snow crunching under my tires. White death swirled into bone-chilling plumes of frost, blotting out everything in front of me from sight. Any chance of keeping my eyes on the road, let alone spotting the haphazardly scattered vehicles, was impossible. In retrospect, I could not have foreseen a different outcome to my past self's situation. Prevention was the best cure and, in this instance, the only cure. But I had been forced to play this game. And with no winning moves in the cards, I was doomed to watch myself blunder over and over again. Case in point, I was already pumping the brakes as I tried to catch glimpses of any shadows waiting to jump out at me within the whiteout. Twenty, fifteen. My car rumbled in disagreement as I slowly trudged through the thickening blanket of snow, but I had little choice. Staying put was tantamount to suicide. Past me knew this, I knew this, and I wasn’t the only one who would suffer the consequences if I was buried under a few feet of snow. I had to keep moving, no matter what. I spared one last glance at the rearview mirror and, noticing the steady rise and fall of my mother’s chest, pushed onward. This went on for a few agonizingly long minutes. I would jump at every mirage and feel my skin peeling off the plastic of the steering wheel whenever I bypassed a hardened clump of snow or chunk of debris. If I was lucky, I would catch a glimpse of a building on either side of the road and reorient myself accordingly. Through all of this, it became difficult to truly separate myself from my past, even with being imprisoned as a silent voice in this body, screaming into the void. Another quarter mile drove, another inch of snow. The blankets shuffled behind me, but I couldn’t afford a single glance, not even as the car bounced violently from a bellowing gust of wind crashing against the driver's side door. Rugged determination and Honda’s unique brand of witchcraft prevented the door from being torn off its hinges, but I couldn’t help but cringe at the metallic crunching noise that rang loudly in my ears. There was no point in berating my past self for driving such a car in this environment. The car had survived worse, and Sarah’s Nissan Rogue was currently rotting in the auto repair shop—which had suffered the brunt of the storm along with the entirety of the south towns. It was here when the house of cards tumbled. The front tires locked up, and my chest instantly crushed my internal organs like an empty coke bottle from the sudden spike of stress. This brand of anxiety was something I was intimately familiar with. Still, it somehow felt even rawer than anything I had felt in recent memory… even including my close shaves with Luna. The steering wheel slipped, scraping bits of skin off my frost-bitten hands as looming, ghastly apparitions revealed themselves from the frosty mist. Gone were the silhouettes of empty vehicles and restaurants, replaced by gnarled fingers and talons reaching to pluck me out of the car. Jerking the steering wheel sharply to the left, I instantly felt a plummeting sensation in the pit of my stomach, and my car tilted downward into an uncontrollable death spiral. Pure luck allowed me to drift just out of reach of one of these shadows, drinking in any details I could gleam within the microsecond allotted. The unmistakable form of rough, unyielding bark, etched with deep grooves and knots, seared itself into my memory, and I was left with far more questions than answers. Answers that even my future knowledge couldn’t provide. Trees? There were no trees on Transit road! This was a fact. You could drive for nearly forty-five minutes and not spot a single piece of shrubbery on the sides of the road, let alone an entire copse of trees. My opinion on the matter changed nothing, and my car was screeching downhill through them like a spooked soldier in Vietnam. My past self’s skills as a driver did not matter, nor did my car’s robustness and durability. I was no longer in control of my situation and could not protect my precious cargo, which was already starting to slip and slide off the backseat. Snow-covered branches slapped against the windshield, a close call with a tree clipped my driver’s side mirror, and snow flew up from where my tires gouged ruts into the ground. I had no chance to orient myself, and pumping the brakes did little to slow my sudden downhill descent. It only took a few moments before my vehicle collided directly with a tree. The door slammed behind me so violently that my lithe body bolted upright into the air. My heart was already beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings, and it took all my willpower to not turn around as I raced down the hall. This sudden transition in scenery was enough to spook my soul straight out of my body, but the accident still teetering on the forefront of my mind only made things worse. Once more, however, these feelings were kept separate from the terror gnawing at the meat suit I was unceremoniously stuffed into. At least before, I had an intimate knowledge of my biological processes; I knew how my body worked, so there were no surprises. But here? In this new nightmare? Everything felt wrong. Small. My heart felt small, and so did my lungs. It was almost as if I was stuffed into clothes that were three sizes too small. The hallway stretched outward and widened disproportionately while somehow also feeling cramped and stuffy. It was almost as if I had inadvertently stumbled across a hidden floor inside Luna’s madhouse, and she was intentionally screwing with my head again. But context flooded my mind once more, and the drastic differences in proportions made far more sense—the oversized belt clutched into tiny hands, the small distance gained with each stride, the massive doors and fixtures fit for a house full of giants… Childhood memories? My gaze was transfixed on a figure peeking out of a door to my right, and a pair of deep blue eyes stared back. A tiny hand reached out from the darkness and beckoned, but I quickly shook my head. Beyond the inherent uncomfortableness of my childhood body's awkward and restricted movement, I started to remember more about my past. My father had always been an enigma to me, even after I went into adulthood. Perhaps there was a time when he wasn’t the disappointment we always viewed him as, but I wasn’t born to see it. I distinctly remember his cold indifference to our existence and how we were always walking on eggshells around him. Until this point, the only time we ever heard him raise his voice was when we were cowering behind the paper-thin walls in our shared bedroom, our minds unable to comprehend the shouting and pained sobs that ensued like clockwork. To this day, I still don’t understand what drove me to leave the safety of our little sanctuary… or what gave me the courage to snatch the belt right out of his hand mid-strike. But regardless of the reason, I knew this was the birthplace of my more… foolish tendencies. “Where the fuck did you go? As soon as I find my belt, I swear to god-” an angry shout bounced off the walls from a few doors down, which caused my greasy palms to become even sweatier. The entrance to Sarah’s bedroom firmly closed shut and I beelined past it, hoping beyond hope that she would not become the target of his rage. Somehow, my childhood self was able to ignore the shivers crawling up his spine, and he quickly dove past the mirage of white, floral wallpaper and into a door on the left. It was almost enough to make me feel jealous, but I quickly buried that emotion as soon as it arrived. The stench of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor wafted into my nostrils as I dove under the king-sized bed at the room's far end. Bottles of Jack Daniels and other assorted junk clattered next to me, but the panic rising in my chest overpowered any sense of disgust I had. “Where the fuck is it, you little shit!” The carpeted floors did little to muffle the sound of his footfalls, which thundered like a herd of wild elephants. “Stop! Please, don’t hurt him!” I could scarcely hear another shrill voice shout over the cacophony of noise stampeding through the hallway. The words of my mother fell upon deaf ears, and I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that I could disappear as the door was nearly torn off its hinges. “I know you’re in here!” he half-slurred his words in a fit of drunken rage. “There’s no place left for you to hide!’ “STOP!” My stomach churned, and bile sat at the bottom of my throat as I heard him stomp into the room. Within a few powerful strides, I heard him stride towards the closet on my right, turning it inside out like a robber rifling through a victim's pockets. I held my breath, afraid to move a single muscle as clothes, boxes, and other assorted items were casually tossed about the room. I could hear his raspy breathing become even more labored with each passing moment, and like the few times Luna cornered me somewhere, I could feel the temperature in the room rise to match his boiling-over anger. …And then it stopped. I exhaled, noticing that the room had suddenly turned into an icebox, or that someone had fiddled with the thermostat. My eyes darted around, looking through the small crack of light that shined in underneath the bed. … A gnarled, puckered hand wrapped around my left ankle. I dug my fingernails into the grey-carpeted floor and screamed, but it was already too late. His rancid, intoxicating breath overpowered all other aromas in the room, and I could do nothing other than stare at the beast towering above me. He turned me over, making me face him as he towered over me, and then I remembered more. He was the same man in the photo—the black sheep in the otherwise happy family. Unlike the photo, however, there was no last-minute makeup or camera work to make him look remotely close to photogenic. His grey hair and beard were wild and unkempt like a savage beast, and cheap beer oozed out from the pores of his olive skin. His blue eyes were glossed over as if he was entranced under a spell, and I could find nothing in them except for perpetual self-loathing and nihilism. This hatred entranced me, and I was so ensorcelled by his hateful gaze that my past self did not see him wind up his arm, but I did. I was forced to watch grimly as his greasy palm sped toward my face with the force of an oncoming train. And I was forced to watch as he repeatedly struck a defenseless child, again and again. Ring any bells, Daniel? The only solace in this abuse was its honest nature; my father never once proclaimed to be doing any of his heinous actions out of love. He was a blunt instrument through and through. Adrenaline dulled my senses, but I felt every strike connect with my frail body. There was nothing I could do, no defense my past self could raise against the savage beating—I was being mauled by a bear in human clothing. My past self’s face quickly became numb while I was consumed by hateful rage. But then, over the rushing of blood in my ears, I dimly heard a second shout. “-married the sad sack of shit you’ve become!” “You’ll regret this, witch! Just wait until-” The voices were so close, yet so far away at the same time. “Get out! Get the fuck out!” Their shouts continued to spear through the walls as I finally came to. My younger self didn’t understand, couldn’t understand what was happening. He had no frame of reference to know about the earthquake going off just down the hallway and into the kitchen. Rattling, shaking, thumping. The sound of glass shattering amidst the incoherent screaming. It was sensory overload. I crawled, the taste of pennies fresh on my lips as I finally found the strength to push myself onto my feet. The tenseness of my muscles was still there, wound up and ready to spring like a jack in the box, but relief bled this tension out slowly from my pours and caking my skin with sweat. But with my short-lived burst of adrenaline ebbing away, I suddenly felt every strike and blow dealt to my younger self, and they appropriately collapsed to their knees just shy of the doorway. But before my younger self could even cry out, I felt a hand brush against my shoulder. Instantly, I caught sight of a pair of deep blue eyes, and the small foil pouch of juice clutched tightly in her tiny hand. … The taste of fruit punch washing down my throat eased the pain. The curtain closed, leaving me in pitch darkness. I knew I was back here again, submerged beneath the blackened waves, waiting to die. But my body was completely numb. I could not feel the burning of my lungs and chest anymore, nor did I feel the need to breathe. The only sensation I could feel was a migraine in my forehead—a symptom of having terabytes of data stuffed into my head. This utter silence was banished in an instant as something else crashed beneath the waves. I could not see, but I could feel the vibrations even from here. The thrashing, the desperate last gasps for air silenced with a mouthful of water. Just as soon as their struggle began, it ended, and I felt my addled mind drift away again into my subconsciousness- I couldn’t remember the last time I saw the sun or felt the rays of its golden warmth touch my skin. Sure, I had memories and brief snapshots of the sun, but they were so far removed and distant that I couldn’t even begin to form a coherent timeline yet. Having more and more information being dumped into my head with no way to parse through it all only made things worse, and I was waiting for the moment that I would wake up from these feverish dreams and go into a seizure. These worries took a backseat as a cool late summer evening breeze sauntered toward the balcony I was standing on, gently brushing against clumps of matted fur on my body. And I had no mouth to scream my lungs out. Having been trapped within a child's body had taken some adjusting to, but there was enough frame of reference to understand how it worked. It was a human body—my human body, just slimmer and shorter. Nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing. This… everything felt so wrong! Out of place! This meat was utterly outside the context of anything I was able to understand. There was no reason for me to experience a dream or memories from something so utterly alien, and I knew from the deepest pit of my soul that I was and always have been human. But despite all odds, I was in this creature's memories, unwittingly robbing it blind of them. The one similarity, the single point of context that grounded me in this bizarre fantasy, was the pair of wings nestled at the sides of the creature’s back. They seemed similar enough, just like the ones I had been gifted in my fight with Luna, but that was of little comfort to me. Everything else in this flesh prison was a facsimile of human anatomy. A heavy, wrongly placed heart far too large pumped blood throughout a body far too big and robust. A pair of too-large lungs forced out air through a too-long throat, which escaped the creature’s misshapen mouth. Rather than act as a detriment, I knew these design features were necessary to maintain this form as context flooded through me once again. Efficiency. That was the only word that made sense when describing the litany of differences between my mortal body and this. The human body was also efficient, but I was used to and understood its many flaws through a quarter century of trial and effort. This body seemed to have none of those. It was a sobering realization, one born from half the blink of an eye of forced introspection combined with another cocktail of memetic knowledge crammed into my soul. If I had control, I would have been sick to my stomach. But I wasn’t, and I could not account for what happened next. Power. It was the only word I could use to describe the massive pressure build-up on my forehead, which felt like it had its own personal dam powerful enough to hold back entire oceans. In my human body, this would have been called status epilepticus at best. And yet, this sensation was normal—like it was always supposed to be there. Magic was a core fundamental to ponies, like breathing was to humans. To try and separate one from the other was tantamount to murder, and I was again reminded of just how utterly outclassed I was in this situation. Jealousy. Fear. Hatred. I had all these emotions in spades, and it wasn’t just due to my constant run of bad luck. It was as if this body was on the same wavelength as me, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to believe that I wasn’t completely helpless. “Will we ever rid ourselves of this corruption? Or will our past haunt us with its shadow forevermore?” A very familiar voice tumbled out from the pony’s dried mouth, jolting me away from my deepening bout of psychosis. Wait. Wait, wait- I felt the pony’s lips purse as they stared wistfully out into the distance. They knew that their eyes, which could spot and name every single wildflower that dotted the hills just beyond the reach of the Everfree Forest, were not deceiving them, but that didn’t stop them from remembering what once was. Or stop me from panicking as I became privy to whose body I was trapped in. This terrifying revelation, along with my newfound grasp of pony history, was suddenly swept aside by a sudden, skullfucking migraine. I could only stare as familiar azure sparks arced from the tip of Luna’s horn, feeling the minute twitch of every muscle in the cartilage of the alien limb jutting from her forehead as she did so. The hairs on Luna’s coat stood on end as her veins expanded, allowing for even more efficient blood flow circulation. My eyes followed Luna’s predatory gaze, which fell upon the fiery orb perched gently upon a bed of orange and pink clouds. Not even a microsecond later, tendrils awash in color not visible on the human spectrum shot outward from her horn like missiles, snaking across the sky before wrapping themselves around the sun like a lasso. And then she began to pull. I was no stranger to the freezing bite of her magic and how even the tiniest fraction of it was enough to make my skin raw and numb. With the amount of raw energy being dumped into a single spell, I was under no delusion that this vile beast could snuff out the very flame of the sun itself. Is there no end to your witchcraft and madness, Luna? Luna’s ears twitched. I instantly silenced myself, not knowing if Luna had somehow heard me. Part of me wanted nothing more than to scream as loudly as possible to distract Luna from her heinous actions, but it was just that, a small part. A minority. Every other instinct told me to keep silent, knowing that she could just as quickly torture and violate me, body or not. Memory or not. So I bit my metaphorical tongue and watched as Luna continued to tug and pull against the celestial object as if it was a match of tug-of-war. The outcome was already predetermined in my head, but I was still surprised to notice a presence inside the sun that was fighting back. For all of Luna’s power, her cold fury could not overcome its uncompromising defense, and inch by inch pulled away from her icy grasp. This battle of wills continued for fifteen agonizing seconds, with the dam in Luna’s head widening ever further with each breath she drew. Dozens upon dozens of ethereal tendrils wrapped around the sun until it was utterly entombed in Luna’s magic, and I could feel every ounce of strain mounting on her skull as her head bent lower and lower. But despite all this power at Luna’s disposal, the sun held steadfast. Unconquered. Unbroken. I gazed up from the upper corners of Luna’s half-lidded eyes, watching with grim satisfaction as the laws of physics reasserted themselves and melted her icy chains away one by one. Trails of flame danced across the strings like the short fuses from a stick of dynamite, and it did not take long before searing pain lanced through Luna’s horn and into her skull. I screamed. There were no words to describe this pain, and even the grievous burns I had suffered in my battle with Luna paled in comparison to this. To call this “heat” would be an attempt to apply the human understanding of physics in a place where they truly had no reign. The only rule in this bizarre nightmare was simple to understand: only the strongest called the shots. Stop! Please! It was here when Luna’s destructive stubbornness came into play. Anyone else would have called it quits by now, but admitting defeat was a sign of weakness, a sign that Luna’s word was not gospel. And to her, this was unacceptable. Luna’s strategy did not change. She did not back off to reassess her opponent for weaknesses to exploit or to recharge her reserves. Brute force was the only language she truly understood, and anything that was not malleable enough to fit into whatever molds she created was discarded like alley trash. Strings and flame. The unstoppable force versus the immovable object. Make it stop! Make it STOP! I did not know how long it took for Luna to assert her dominion over the sun, nor was I privy to knowing if Luna had heard my screams or internalized them as her soul wailing in agony. The only thing I knew was that the burden had lessened, and that opening was enough for me to slink back into the darkest recess of Luna’s mind. With my very existence no longer in mortal peril, I felt my metaphorical jaw drop as I stared through Luna’s eyes once more. Beyond the mess of strings still clinging to the sun, one stood out. A rope woven from golden starlight gently tugged the burning ball of plasma across the sky. Sinking lower and lower, the clouds became a deep, inky purpled, and the skyscape was awash with shades of pink and orange as it started its dip below the horizon. As the last light of the day faded, the world around Luna suddenly became bathed in the familiar glow of shimmering moonlight. “Good evening, sister,” Luna sighed, staring at the horizon. The sound of hooves clacking against the polished marble floors was hurried, and if Luna’s sudden grimace was any suggestion, it was out of the average norm for Celestia’s behavior. This idea cemented itself in both of our minds as Celestia nuzzled the side of her cheek, allowing Luna to catch a glimpse of her sister. Her ornate, bejeweled necklace and golden slippers were nowhere to be found, alongside the otherworldly glow accompanying her multicolored mane. “Luna,” Celestia’s pale magenta eyes were plastered with concern as she turned Luna’s head to face her with a forehoof. The irony was not lost upon me when she spoke out again with a concerned tone befitting a mother rather than a sibling. “We’ve discussed this already, haven’t we?” “We know, Tia. It’s just…” Luna fell back on her haunches and stared holes into the floor, and I mentally prepared myself for the plunge that would inevitably ensue. A few seconds of awkward silence followed, and Luna subconsciously curled into herself, much like a child caught red-handed stealing from the cookie jar. “It has only been three weeks, Luna,” An alabaster wing draped itself over Luna, which caused her to sigh, but left me with a sense of relief. “You know that it will take time to heal.” Luna said nothing, her eyes trailing off into the horizon as something hollowed out the inside of her chest. I was far too familiar with the fatigue that plagued her, and I hated that. I hated that there was something that I could relate to with this monster, no matter how insignificant it was. It was a longing for the past, things that would not and could never exist again. This is the feeling Luna felt as she stared out at the many towns and villages that had seemingly sprouted up from the muck rather than built up over centuries. It was a feeling reflected upon the dimly lit stars glimmering overhead. “But when will that time come, sister? For too long have we felt weak and weary. Our strength is not what it once was, and we fear it may never return.” “You know that’s not true,” Celestia wrapped her forehoof around Luna and dragged us closer until Luna’s head was nestled beneath her neck. Her hot breath brushed against the hair between her ears, but she could not drag out the fit of giggles that always ensued from her teasing. “The Elements did not seal away your magic permanently before-” “We had over a thousand years to recover, sister. And yet, even after our escape, we have been sapped of our strength. ‘Tis one thing to recover from the trauma of the ordeal, but it seems as if the second time the Elements were used upon us opened a wound that did not have time to close.” Celestia hummed quietly, following Luna’s eyes as the breeze lapping at their fur coats chilled. “...Are you sure that the nightmare was purged so quickly because you were weakened? Or was it perhaps the bond of Twilight’s friendship more powerful than we anticipated?” “We are not sure,” Luna sighed. “Thy student has much potential, and the prowess she has shown thus far mayhaps be merely the surface.” “Lulu, they haven’t crippled you. The Elements of Harmony’s justice is blind, not heartless.” Luna’s eyes grew distant and wistful as they began to sting. “How can thou say that in good faith, sister? Thou hast tended to my tapestry in my absence for a thousand years, have thee not? Surely, thou hast noticed the stars fading?” They both looked upward. Being cramped within the castle's halls for so long had ruined my perspective on many things, including the night sky. The stars above still glittered like polished gems, and I honestly did not see the issue that had Luna all wound up. To a starving man, however, any meal would look like a feast. “They have grown distant from us, sister. Our moon and stars refuse our call.” Good. It was a reflex, but I couldn’t deny saying it aloud didn’t give me some schadenfreude as Luna’s ears pasted themselves to the sides of her head. The aching of her heart only made things all the sweeter. “Luna, the sun-” Celestia squeezed tightly as she tried to reassure her. “-Is a star,” Luna wriggled like a worm until she escaped Celestia’s grasp.“‘Tis only distance and thy bond to it that makes it unique among its kin. But even they are slipping beyond our reach if they have not faded from existence entirely.” Celestia remained silent, her squinted gaze leveled at Luna as she leaned forward. “Tia, what has happened during our absence? What has happened to our night? Why hast thou not…” “I’m sorry,” Celestia apologized morosely, and I wanted nothing more than to hug the poor woman. “The fault lies with me and me alone,” Luna turned away, surprising me. “Thou could not have possibly maintained our tapestry and performed thy duties of statehood alone. And we cannot fault our subjects for improving their lot in life either… but we wish somepony would have noticed our plight.” Admitting fault for your mistakes, Luna? That’s a first. Luna lethargically ambled towards the railing and peered over. Seeing any signs of life was just as much of a treat as seeing the sun and the stars before it. Even if this was all just a momentary glimpse into the past, I was captivated. I wanted, no, needed to know everything about this culture and its history. Everything, from the mix of towns with thatched cottages to sprawling cities that dotted the horizon, scratched an itch I didn’t know I had until I suddenly remembered that I was a city dweller. The endless seas of lights stretching as far as the eye could see were commonplace in New York City, and I wanted nothing more than to gawk and traipse around these lookalikes like a clueless tourist. What was the story of Canterlot? Why was it built upon the side of this mountaintop? What of the other sprawling cities out in the distance? Or the massive forest that seemed to slice the entire country in half? So many questions and so little time. Luna was in a completely different headspace, however. “We had always wished for our little ponies to appreciate our night. But this? We never thought about the consequences of such, and yet we should not be surprised that they would pollute the delicate serenity of our night with these flameless lanterns.” Luna’s inner Luddite clawed for freedom from her maw, tarnishing the awe-inspiring image I witnessed with her unwanted opinions. Celestia was already at her side again. Draping her forelegs over the railing, she gazed upon her kingdom with sullenness instead of deserved pride. “I will begin drafting a law in the morning and take whatever measures necessary to undo the damage we have already caused.” “It will not matter. Even after a thousand years, nopony loves the night, and everypony fears us. This truth has remained constant throughout the annals of history, and thy decrees and proclamations will not change this.” Celestia pursed her lips. “I could have,” Celestia finally said, unable to look Luna in the eye. “My word is law to our little ponies, and within a few decades, I’m certain I could have eventually swayed them—make them think of you as something other than a monster.” “Sister, thou do not-” Luna’s limbs were anchors, and she was rooted to her spot, unable to move a muscle. “But I do! I allowed this hatred to fester for too long because I was too weak to stop it. Please,” Celestia pleaded. “You do not need to suffer this burden alone, Luna. Don’t push me away.” Luna bowed her head and closed her eyes. She was beginning to turn inward, withdrawing from the conversation and all outside stimuli in general. Were it not for the wings glued to her back, I could have seen how this outcome would play out. And while I wasn’t deluded into believing that Luna wouldn’t survive a few hundred feet drop, I was tired of her morose bullshit and how it dragged down everyone with her. I didn’t need to remind myself about what kind of person she truly was, and I wasn’t about to give her any sympathy just because of a tragic backstory. But I didn’t want her to do something that would fill Celestia with regret. Not when she was the only person in recent memory to show me any true form of kindness. Let her help. Luna remained silent, her wings twitching with agitation as they rubbed against her back. Let. Her. Help. “Luna.” Luna opened her eyes. Celestia’s face was plastered with fear, and the white fur on her cheeks somehow looked pale as she stared intently through Luna. And for a brief moment, I could swear that I saw the most subtle of eye movements… as if she was not staring at her sister but at me. But just as quickly as it happened, it stopped. Celestia’s magenta eyes were already locked onto Luna’s again, glittering from a sudden spark of realization. “You think I’m trying to replace you, Luna?” “Trying?” Luna shook her head. “Thou already hast. Equestria has prospered for a thousand years without our presence, and it can live on for thousands more with or without. And we cannot help but resent thee for this, even if the nightmare no longer flows through our veins.” Celestia flinched as if she was struck across the cheek. “Do not say such dreadful things! I never tried to replace you! I could never replace you!” “But thou already have, and we cannot blame thee for this, either. Our jealousy and arrogance fed the nightmare, and our just punishment ripped us away from everything we cherished,” Luna gestured toward the horizon with a hoof. “Our first home has been abandoned, left to rot deep within the Everfree. The ponies we’ve cherished are no more, lost in the pages of history as hoofnotes at best. Our-” Luna’s empty chest began to ache. This distraction was enough to prevent her from noticing the subtle shift in Celestia’s attitude. I could see it in her body language—how she shifted backward to widen the gap with Luna, how her tail, wings, and ears twitched with longing and regret, and how there was a spark of conflict in her pained grimace. “Our relationships are gone. There is nopony here that we share a connection with apart from thee, sister, and even this bond hath weakened. Formalities are all we have left, with not even the shallowest of bonds to fill the void in our soul,” Luna continued. Her longing gaze became fixed on Celestia, but she could not unmoor herself; her anchors weighed too heavy. Celestia breathed in silently and squeezed her eyes shut. “Do you remember, Luna, back before we burdened ourselves with these crowns?” Moonlight spilled upon Celestia as she tilted her head toward the stars. A warm smile graced her lips, accompanied by the prickle of tears hanging at the corners of her eyes. “We do,” Luna reaffirmed, her heart squeezing itself like someone would wring the water out of a towel. “We remember our childish games back when we had not a care in the world. We were inseparable then, two young sisters playing pretend in the ruins of an old kingdom.” “Every day always felt like some grand adventure, no matter how insignificant! Abandoned shops and houses used to be fortified castles filled with treasure!” “And how thou always jumped at thy shadow, sister!” Luna softly chuckled, momentarily forgetting her sorrow as she wiped her tears with a hoof. “Even when thou were insisting on braving these ‘castles’ for plunder!” Celestia playfully held out her tongue, undercutting the congested sound of her nasal breaths. Luna allowed herself to reminisce, and I allowed myself to understand. Flashes of memory. Old tableware, dusty tomes, grimy and aged golden coins. Nothing had been left to waste, and I understood enough that these were more than just childish antics—money made the world go round. And for them, money had always been tight. Hunger had always been just a single missed meal away. Peace and happiness had been in even shorter supply, but they always made it work. Childhood’s spark had kept their bonds stronger than the whims of the eldritch god of disharmony that plagued their lands. “Do you remember that book, Luna?” They had found many books: diaries of shopowners with torn pages, dated history books with faded text, and colorful storybooks of brave knights and greedy pirates. They all had a place in her heart, no matter how small. But Luna instantly knew she wasn’t referring to any of those. There was only one tome that fit that description, despite its vagueness, and her eidetic memory wouldn’t allow her to forget the first gift Celestia had ever given her. “The Celestial Realms,” Luna gently whispered, a phantom smell of earth and mustiness entering Luna’s nasal cavity. The ravages of time had reduced it to tatters, but that didn’t stop her from remembering the heavy, azure cloth-bound book or how she eagerly undid the brass clamps holding it shut like a child tearing open a Christmas present. Its vivid hoof-drawn illustrations and diagrams enthralled her young mind, and its beautiful and flowing calligraphy became the basis from which her own reading and writing skills developed. Despite not seeing it for centuries, she could still recite every single passage in order without missing a single syllable. “Thou helped us understand,” Luna’s wings twitched as she shivered. “And nurtured our love for the stars. We…” You never deserved it. It was petty. Cruel, even. But I didn’t care. I already knew how this story ended, and my opinion of Luna was already set in stone. Luna gulped, the smile vanishing from her lips. “We are sorry, sister, for forsaking our bond over jealousy and wounding thee and everypony who cherished us so deeply. Our punishment was just, but we have not yet paid the toll for our heinous crimes.” “Luna!” “W-We will take o-our leave,“ Luna’s voice began to crack as she turned to sulk away, which still garnered no sympathy from me. “He was happy.” Luna stopped in her tracks. “...What?” “I made sure of it,” Celestia stood resolute, and the gleam in her sparkling mane returned. “No angry mobs or upstart nobles ever darkened his doorstep, and he lived a fulfilling and fruitful live without worries or regrets.” “Sister?” Luna faltered. I could feel the suddenly damp fur on her cheeks clumping together from unbidden tears. “Are you surprised? Or did you truly think I would take my frustrations and anger at your betrayal out on a defenseless foal?” “No, Tia,” Luna protested with a strained voice. “We never thought-” “It was my own failing for not telling you sooner. And truthfully, I was afraid of ever bringing up old wounds like this. I feared you would resent me for it, and I acted upon my cowardice instead of being there for you again. All just to spare my emotions.” Celestia strode with renewed vigor past Luna and into her sister’s chambers. No candlelight illuminated the room, but the patterns of stars and constellations painted on the ceiling glistened and twinkled as the moonlight from outside spilled into it. “This was his work, not mine,” Celestia continued. “A labor of love for the mother he never knew and would never meet. But he shared your passion for the night, and that love passed down his lineage for generations.” Luna remembered again. Her isolated prison. Her chains. Of how the stars twinkled in the forever night sky just out of reach. She couldn’t breathe. She was always numb. Always cold. But within all of this, she could never tear her eyes away from the orb of green and blue floating millions of miles away. And for the first 86 years of her sentence, she couldn’t help but stare unblinkingly at a small patch of that green. Watching, waiting, until she felt a piece of herself shrivel up and die with a whimper. Anguish flooded her, gnawing at her chest and tearing at her heartstrings. “After a millennium of bitterness, we had let go of our delusions of having our child returned to us, and we wish to start anew, to begin a new chapter of our life again… but we are afraid, sister.” Luna stared at the starry fresco above, and I couldn’t deny the beauty that was beheld within each painstakingly painted star. Serpents, rams, owls, each constellation was utterly unique in its own right, but I longed to catch glimpses of familiar ones—Orion, The Big Dipper, Gemini. This yearning brought forth another question I was uncomfortable answering: Had I arrived in this world during its prime, would I have allowed myself the chance to start anew? Or would I still be as embittered as I am now? I thankfully never gave myself an answer, as Luna continued. “We are afraid that we have buried the bright and cheerful soul of our past on the moon, and what is left is nothing more than a hollow shell. How could we possibly thrive in this new world when our very foundation is crumbling?” “Then let me help you, sister!” Celestia cried out. “We will make the moon and stars shine again!” Luna turned her solemn gaze back to Celestia, whose serene mask had shattered into bite-sized pieces. “We will not deny thy help, but this is a battle we must win with our own power, if for no one’s sake but ours. Our faded and dulled tapestry is a mirror of our soul, even as twisted and barren as it is.” A spike of adrenaline accompanied the image that came bundled with it—snow-white fur as pale as the moon and tiny azure eyes that gleamed with innocence. Luna clenched her jaw, her muscles turning rigid and stiff. “And for his sake and for those we have lost, we will not rest until our work is done.” I was already freezing when my eyes blinked open. Confusion rapidly mixed with fear as the pungent smell of gasoline wafted into my nostrils, and I began to thrash awkwardly in place. My seatbelt tugged, forcing me painfully back into the seat and crushing my chest, which was already feeling tight from the sudden spike of adrenaline and stress. It was a struggle to breathe in the cold, let alone regain any semblance of sanity. It took an agonizingly long amount of time to thumb over the seatbelt release and even longer to catch my breath, which escaped my mouth in clouds of white, wispy vapor. The heat vents had long since sputtered their last breaths, and my only source of warmth was the heavy black jacket and grey pants clinging to my rapidly freezing skin. The first saving grace was that I knew I was in my own body again, with sensations and feelings that I could instinctively relate to upon a deeper and, most importantly, human level. Hands, feet, it didn’t matter how numb they felt or how it seemed like the winter chill was stinging them with the force of ten-thousand needles—I would choose this torture over being stuck within Luna’s body every time without fail. Pure luck was the second. Cars didn’t reliably have airbags until 1990, and my Honda was just a year shy. It took me a moment to even process that I had witnessed my life flash before my eyes just a few minutes ago, only to be interrupted by other memories. Still foggy in the head, I relinquished my left hand's grip on the steering wheel and gazed forward. Snow and sleet slithered through the cracks in the windshield, which dusted the dashboard and steering wheel in white. Still bleary from my drowsiness, my eyes tried to glean the source of the smoke and fire that clawed at my throat. My right hand reluctantly brushed against the glass, and I immediately felt my eyes sting. The front bumper and hood had been completely crushed; both headlights were shattered, the front tires had exploded, and black plumes of smoke billowed from the exposed and broken engine block. Despite being only a memory, it was still a sucker punch to the gut. My past self agonized over the price tag of such an accident—the insurance company would have a field day raking him over the coals for this. Knowing future events, I knew that greedy insurance agents were the lesser of two evils and that even a chop shop would have been a more noble end for the old girl than rotting in this godforsaken forest. Goodbye, old friend. I drew in a long breath, catching a puff of freezing chill from the broken windscreen that pierced my lungs. It was a similar pain to the one I experienced under the waves—searing pain in my chest, yet stinging and biting cold followed by a freezing, unrelenting gnawing. And just like drowning in that ocean, a sense of drowsiness and lethargy began to rear its ugly head again. It wasn’t until I glanced over at my cracked rearview mirror that my eyes widened with realization. The world spun instantly; shades of mahogany and dark white clouded my vision as I forced the stiff muscles in my neck to twist. The taste of copper stained my lips as I bit down on my tongue. The backseat was empty.