//------------------------------//
// First Stop: Mare Tranquillitatis 
// Story: Aether Express 
// by MagnetBolt 
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Rarity had expected the Aether Express to be strange and fantastical, perhaps something like a palace on wheels. Instead, perhaps somewhat depressingly, it was almost exactly the same as the train between Canterlot and Ponyville, and not even the first-class cabins.
The designer had an eye for color, and to her trained gaze, the cabin had the look that ponies gave things like a bank or business when they needed to give off an aura of dignity. The carpet was a subtle two-tone sage green pattern that brought to mind the shapes of creeping vines and flowers without the colors involved. Curtains were soft, fuzzy velvet that half-covered the windows, and the fittings were almost all polished brass that looked nearly like gold to an untrained eye. The wood of the benches and wall panels was stained a dark color and covered in a thick layer of polish that made it shine nearly like a mirror.
Rarity looked at her dark reflection and wondered if she was doing the right thing. It was too late to turn back now, which meant it was safe to actually think about it. If she’d put too much thought into it before, the prospect of leaving everything behind to go off on a mad journey might have been enough to make her think twice and turn back. In the thick of it now, she had the luxury of regret without the burden of doing anything about it.
At least the train was comfortable enough, but as she sat across from the mysterious and quiet Diana on the bench, she couldn’t help but wonder why the wooden bench under her was so mundane.
“Are you feeling alright?” Diana asked. The tall mare sat with her eyes closed, and it was difficult for Rarity to tell if she was awake or in the midst of some dream.
“Oh, yes,” Rarity said, too quickly. She looked away from the ordinary-looking bench made of ordinary-looking wood and covered with comfortable (but still ordinary) upholstery. It wasn’t exactly brand-new, broken in just enough to take away the hard edges but without anything that might speak to some specific history or prior passengers.
“It’s not what you expected,” Diana surmised. She opened her eyes and turned that passive gaze on Rarity. She had the kind of look that could come down in a hammer blow, and was almost as powerful when she used it like this, a soft and velvet touch of understanding.
Rarity could have lied. She was a natural liar. Not a malicious one -- she didn’t lie to hurt ponies. Rarity would never do that. No, she lied for the opposite reason, to smooth over small faults and pretend she’d never seen them, to allow ponies to keep their dignity, to flatter them when they needed to be assured that they had good taste. Her business and livelihood relied on the social lubricant of pretending chartreuse and raspberry were a bold statement when worn together.
Under the soft touch of Diana’s long gaze, the white lies evaporated and she was left only with the naked, unclothed truth.
“It’s exactly the same as every other train I’ve been on,” Rarity admitted. “Why isn’t it more… magical?”
“The Aether Express is what it is,” Diana said. “Perhaps it’s shaped by your experience? It might even look different to every pony who boards it. How would we know, if it only comes once in a lifetime?”
“I suppose you might be right,” Rarity conceded. Before she could think to compare what she was seeing with what Diana saw, one of the doors at the end of the train car opened up, the noise of wind and squeal of wheels on rails pouring in along with a pony in a uniform that included a thick felt coat and peaked hat.
“Tickets, please,” the pony said, trotting over to them. He had a deep voice that echoed through the car, and his coat was the color of hard coal, even darker than his navy blue uniform.
“Ah…” Rarity hesitated. Diana came to her rescue, producing two slips of silver paper. Rarity leaned closer to look at them when Diana held them out. They were ornate and covered in a design that bridged the geometric and the artificial, a little like a too-perfect spiderweb crossed with lace.
“I have them here,” Diana said, giving them to the conductor. He checked them and nodded, giving one back to Diana and holding the other towards Rarity.
“Make sure to keep these safe,” the dark-coated pony said. “As long as you have your ticket, you’re a guest of the Aether Express. If you don’t have it, you’ll be thrown off the train, even if we’re Between.”
“Between?” Rarity asked, confused. She took one of the tickets when it was offered to her. It felt like it was made of thin, flexible metal. Not foil, but woven and pressed like fabric and with a sense of invulnerability. She wasn’t going to try and tear it, but Rarity felt sure that it would have proven impossible if she’d made the attempt.
“Between stations,” Diana said. “The Express travels from Realm to Realm. The stations are safe, but if you exited the train while we were in transit, there’s no knowing where you might end up. It could be nowhere. Drifting forever.”
Rarity looked out the window. It didn’t look particularly sinister outside. They were traveling through a dark forest, with a dense canopy above them. It was almost like being in a tunnel. After spending so much time in the Everfree, even the deepest jungle was only mildly concerning at worst.
The words, though, carried a weight that the mild-looking surroundings didn’t. Rarity clutched her ticket tighter as if she’d go drifting away without it.
“I see,” Rarity said, though she really didn’t. An odd boulder caught her eye, pock-marked and dusty.
“Our next stop is the Moon,” the conductor said. “We’ll be arriving in a few minutes. Please excuse me.” He nodded and left through the opposite door, moving into the next car.
“The Moon?” Rarity gasped. “In just a few minutes? How? We haven’t even left the ground!”
Diana giggled lightly. “Why would we need to do that?”
“Darling, I’m sure you can’t have avoided noticing that the Moon is in the sky.”
“A pegasus can’t get to the Moon just by flying towards it,” Diana said. “The Aether Express goes to places far further and far stranger than our next destination. The tracks weave between worlds, and the train follows. Look outside again.”
Diana turned to the window and nodded with her chin. Rarity followed the mare’s gaze. Outside, the forest was thinning. Boulder fields showed in the clearings, full of sharp-edged rocks and a thin coating of white powder.
“That’s so strange,” Rarity said quietly. “Snow, at this time of year?”
“Dust,” Diana corrected. It quickly became a thick layer of grey, blotting out all color and life from the world around them. The last of the trees swept past, and all that was left around them were rocks and dust. The train shuddered, brakes squealing. The landscape whizzing by slowed from the pace of a speeding locomotive to merely that of a train pulling into a station.
A platform slid into place, solid and real and obviously having always been there yet at the same time with the sense that it might have only just appeared.
The train blew its whistle, coming to a halt.
“Shall we?” Diana asked, standing up.
“You mean, you want to get out?” Rarity asked.
“We have a few hours before the train leaves. Don’t you want to visit the Moon? Only a very few ponies have ever set hoof here.”
Rarity did enjoy the idea of being part of such an exclusive group, and it was part of the Royalty’s domain. If she didn’t at least try to enjoy it, wasn’t that a bit of an insult to Princess Luna? She’d never dream of doing something so crass.
“I suppose I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs,” Rarity agreed, getting up and following Diana, trotting quickly to match the pace of the long-legged mare. Diana stopped and her horn lit with dark magic. She reached into the luggage space above the wide train benches, pulling down a pair of saddlebags.
“Here,” she said, putting them on Rarity’s back.
Rarity was pleased to see the bags were of relatively high quality, humble in design but made of sturdy and soft materials. They were a bit plain, but that simply meant she had room to accessorize!
“Thank you so much,” Rarity said, putting her ticket in the bags to secure it. “Are these yours?”
Diana shook her head. She lifted the edge of her cloak, putting her own ticket into one of the inner pockets in the soft lining. “I don’t need them. They’re just part of the service here. You’ll find a few bits in the other bag.”
Rarity checked, and just as Diana said, there were a few bits, not a fortune but certainly enough to cover the expense of a few meals or a small shopping trip. Given her current lack of fashion, the latter was an extremely attractive prospect, and she was willing to give up a few meals if it meant a hat and perhaps some sort of sundress. Or if that was inappropriate in the current surroundings, a moondress.
“So, where will we go first?” Rarity asked as they stepped off the train and onto a platform that seemed to be made out of concrete with silver railings. “I’ve never been to the Moon before.”
“You’ll find there aren’t many places to go,” Diana said. She motioned to the landscape around them. As far as Rarity could see, there were rocks and dust and very little else aside from the Aether Express itself and its rails.
Rarity’s dream of having fashion from another world vanished as quickly as it appeared. She sighed, disappointed. She hadn’t even known exactly what to expect but she still felt like those unformed expectations hadn’t been met.
“Why not take a walk?” Diana suggested.
“Is there anywhere to walk to?” Rarity asked.
“It’s about the journey, not the destination,” Diana said with obvious amusement. The light around them changed, pastel blue and green spreading across the dust. Rarity looked up.
All of Equestria looked back.
The world hung in the sky, bigger and brighter than the moon hung in the night sky from home. Rarity had seen maps before and recognized the shapes of Equestria’s east coast. Her eye for detail picked out a few of the larger landmarks - Manehattan island had to be right there, Fillydelphia there. A bright tangle of white was Cloudsdale in its slow drift across the continent.
It was beautiful. Every place she’d ever been before was right in front of her. Every pony she’d ever met. Every pony she’d ever heard of. Every fashion critic she’d tried to impress, every friend she’d made. All of it was on that little world hanging in a sea of stars.
Rarity held up a hoof and Equestria vanished behind it.
“It gives a pony a different perspective, doesn’t it?” Diana asked. She seemed almost as transfixed by it as Rarity was. “No borders or boundaries. Equestria and the dragon lands and the changeling kingdoms are all so close together, but you have to be this far away before you can see it clearly.”
“It really is something,” Rarity agreed quietly. “Does the Aether Express always stop here?”
“Who can say? It’s a lonely little world, but perhaps it’s a necessary stop. A place where ponies can be reminded of all the things they’re leaving behind.”
Rarity nodded, and she thought of her friends and family. “I’m going to go for that little walk.”
“I’ll be here when you come back,” Diana said. “The train will leave in a few hours, try to be back before then.”
“You’re not coming with me?” Rarity asked. She wanted to be alone for a few moments but didn’t want to offend the pony who had apparently paid for the trip.
“I’ve seen enough of the Moon already,” Diana assured her. “Don’t worry. Unlike some stops along the line, this place is safe. There’s nothing here to hurt you. Nothing to help, but nothing to hurt either.”





Rarity picked up a small stone, something exactly the right size to put on a desk to keep papers still or to display on a shelf. It was rough-edged and as dark as charcoal and in lieu of actually having a gift shop on the moon, it was probably as good as she was going to get for some sort of souvenir to bring back to her friends.
She’d followed a trail. At least it seemed like a trail. It was a path beaten into the dust and rock over time, worn into regolith by the passage of hooves. Rarity stopped and looked at one print just a bit outside the trail, preserved in the dust. It was twice the size of the tracks she was leaving.
The trail had been worn by one set of hooves, pacing for a thousand years. It would have been an appropriate moment for a sad wind to blow, but the moon was silent. Totally silent. Rarity had grown up in a small town and thought she was used to the quiet. The hours before dawn when a pony with a deadline might work despite every other soul for a mile around being asleep.
The moon was as silent as a cave dug deep into the earth, so quiet that the ringing in Rarity’s ears, the sound of her breath, even the beating of her heart all became audible to her. She tried to ignore them, but in that yawning gape of nothing the sound of her own joints creaking and moving was suddenly a chorus of noise. She started to panic, some primal urge coming over her for a moment.
It passed, and she was still there, still alone, and the panic hadn’t gone away.
“How did Princess Luna manage it for so long?” Rarity asked herself, needing to hear a voice, even if it was only her own. “I think I’d go mad if I had to spend much time here.”
Something caught her eye, a hint of regularity amidst the desolation. Rarity spotted a path leading off to the side, and she followed it to the crest of a small hill. It was a somewhat steep way to the top, perhaps easy for a mare whose legs were as long as Rarity’s whole body, but difficult for a little pony.
Still, she was nothing if not determined to make the best of the situation. It wasn’t something she’d be able to do later, and Rarity didn’t want to regret missing something. As she strode to the very top of the hill, there was a boulder, split in two pieces. One half was flat and free of dust, the other behind it. Together they were a rough seat sized for a giant.
Rarity sat on Luna’s abandoned throne and looked out over her creation.
A maze of paths swirled across the regolith, grey on grey. It took Rarity a few moments to realize what she was seeing.
Back home, in Ponyville, Pinkie Pie had a small rock garden. It was a box with sandy soil unsuited for any actual gardening along with a few smooth stones. She spent time with it, using a small rake to draw abstract designs in the sand, positioning the rocks in pleasing ways. Pinkie Pie had told her it reminded her of home.
The moon was a rock garden on a grand scale. A thousand years of tracing paths, using bare hooves and endless time and patience to arrange everything just so. There was a story in it. A design like the sun. One like the moon. Other shapes and figures, a collection of rocks that almost, if viewed in the right way, looked like a city.
It was art, so striking and raw that it brought tears to Rarity’s eyes. Even with the limits of the medium, just black and white on a blank world, she could feel some fraction of what Luna had felt. Of what Nightmare Moon had felt. There was rage there, hurt simmering for generations.
The images were huge. One image of a rearing alicorn was, by itself, probably large enough to encircle most of Ponyville. They were massive, so epic in scale they could only be seen and understood from high above.
And yet nopony on Equestria knew about them.
Every night, they were on display to the entire world. Shining down over millions of ponies. Luna’s pain and her story and her confession all at once and nopony was aware. So big they could cover a nation and so distant that they could be ignored. Forgotten.
She looked back towards the station, wondering if she should tell Diana about her discovery. It seemed further away than she remembered walking. With the sun blaring overhead Rarity felt as exposed as a model on a stage. Back home, the sun seemed so warm and comforting but now it was a searchlight pointed accusingly at her and casting everything in blinding white and deepest black.
It was suffocating. Rarity needed to find somewhere else, somewhere away from that imagined gaze. Somewhere out of the light.
She hopped down off the throne, finding the steep, narrow path down the hill.
Rarity’s delicate hooves found a loose stone under the layer of silt and dust, and she tumbled, falling down a steep hill and passing instantly from light to dark. She coughed and sneezed, the lunar soil as fine as ash and at the same time somehow as sharp as freshly ground pepper.
The young mare was in a depression, a small crater carved eons ago by a falling star. The rim of the deep bowl hid her from the panopticon view of the sun, and for a moment she felt odd relief. Rarity knew there wasn’t anything dangerous here. There wasn’t even anypony to see her, but it was still somehow better to be alone after such a humiliating fall. A mare past foalhood wasn’t really supposed to run or jump or do anything athletic at all beyond ballroom dancing.
Rarity was glad for privacy to compose herself. She sneezed again, this time more demurely.
“I suppose it would be too much to ask for a shower,” she said into the silence. Her voice didn’t even echo. The sound was muted in the way things seemed quiet in a snowstorm. “I hope the train has some sort of bath.”
She didn’t know any spells that would clean her coat -- she’d always enjoyed a long, hot shower, a bubble bath, a day at the spa. Getting clean wasn’t just a necessity, it was something to indulge in. Rarity could imagine the kind of pony who would rather use sorcery and get it done with as a bare necessity. They were also the sort of pony who would eat tasteless gruel instead of bothering to cook.
A pony rather like Twilight Sparkle.
“I wish I’d been able to tell her where I was going,” Rarity sighed. Part of her felt like she was abandoning her friend on a bad note. Princess Luna had noticed Rarity’s slightly soured mood at the coronation, and Twilight had still been in Canterlot when…
Rarity still couldn’t remember what had happened in that interval before she’d found herself in Hollow Shades. She’d fallen into darkness, just like the shadows around her now, and then been elsewhere.
The secluded shade around her started to feel less comfortable. A bead of anxious sweat dripped down Rarity’s neck and mixed with the scratchy, ashy dust. It crawled across her coat with the same sensation as a spider. Her entire body started to itch, phantom ants burrowing into her skin.
Rarity shrieked and bolted out of the shadows of the crater’s rim, fleeing into the light. In her panic she could have sworn the shadows moved with her, reaching for her legs and trying to pull her back and away from the sun. Perhaps it was just the dust swirling in the air, clouds of it hanging in the still, stuffy air. Rarity saw it around her, a wave of darkness closing in.
“Hold.” 
The voice was firm. Rarity’s hooves skittered on sharp-edged pebbles. She started to fall again, and magic enveloped her, steadying her. Diana stepped in front of her, looking down at the smaller mare with concern in her deep eyes.
“Are you alright?” she asked. “I heard a scream. I came to make sure you hadn’t hurt yourself.”
“I--” Rarity looked back. She didn’t want to look back, but she was compelled to check. When she saw the empty crater there, she felt supremely silly. She’d been running from nothing except her own fears and imagination gone wild. “I feel rather like a foal,” she said quietly.
“Everypony is allowed to be a foal sometimes,” Diana said. She looked even more uncomfortable than Rarity somehow, stepping so gingerly on the lunar surface that it seemed as if she was afraid it would crack like ice over a lake in early winter.
“Perhaps we should go back to the station?” Rarity suggested, for both of their benefits.
Diana nodded and helped Rarity out of the crater and back to the hoof-beaten path.
“I’m sorry for making you come out to save me from myself,” Rarity said in the quiet. Diana made no sound when she walked, and Rarity felt like she had to say something in the silence if only to remind herself that she wasn’t alone.
“Can you imagine a thousand years here, alone?” Diana asked.
“There’s so much nothing that it becomes overwhelming,” Rarity said. “I couldn't take it.”





“Would you care for a snack?”
Rarity almost jumped out of her seat. She’d been sitting alone a few seats away from Diana, who had closed the curtain next to her and seemed to be asleep. A mare had snuck up on her while she’d been thinking of the designs she’d seen outside. She was pushing a brass cart along the aisle, bottles and cans softly rattling when she came to a halt next to Rarity.
“I’m so sorry, darling, I didn’t see you there,” Rarity said. “I was off in my own little world.”
The mare giggled at that, as if there was a private joke Rarity didn’t understand. When she moved, Rarity saw the light shift through her, reflecting and refracting through her pale blue body. The effect was somewhat diminished by the uniform she wore, a short shirt and tie along with a round cap that covered a smooth, glassy mane.
“Are you a crystal pony?” Rarity asked.
“You know, you’re the first pony to get it right in ages,” she said, holding back a pleased giggle. “They almost always ask if I’m a ghost!”
Rarity smiled. “I trust they at least think you’re a beautiful ghost?”
“You’re just trying to butter me up,” she accused, teasing Rarity. “You’re lucky I enjoy being buttered.” She leaned on the cart full of drinks.
“Rarity,” she offered, holding out her hoof. The crystal pony shook it gingerly. Rarity barely felt the touch.
“Kyanite,” the crystal pony said.
“I didn’t know the train had stewardesses, but I suppose it makes sense,” Rarity said. “I don’t suppose there’s anywhere I can wash up? I took a small fall and I’m a touch dusty.” She’d tracked dust in with her despite her best intentions. She didn’t even have so much as a drop cloth to keep it off the seats and felt terribly guilty.
“Sorry,” Kyanite said with a small wince. “You’ll have to wait until we’re at a longer stop. Then you’ll be able to go to a hotel.”
“Just knowing there are hotels is more than enough,” Rarity sighed, her anxiety fading a bit. Hotels meant civilization, which meant not every stop along the way was going to be a haunted tundra of ash and rock like this. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Kyanite said. “I bet you could use a little pick-me-up. How about something special?”
“Something special?” Rarity asked.
The crystal pony knelt down, reaching into one of the lower trays on the cart, and produced a small plate. Rarity took it and looked at it. On the delicate plate was a hoof-sized chocolate-covered dessert.
“It’s called a moon cake,” Kyanite said. “A marshmallow sandwich smothered in dark chocolate.”
“Thank you, I could use something with chocolate,” Rarity said. “It always does wonders for my mood.”
“It’s one of the only things that works just as well on adults as on foals,” Kyanite agreed. “I’m a big fan of sundaes myself, but I have to make sure I still fit into my uniform.” She gave Rarity a conspiratorial wink.
Rarity smiled and adjusted the way she was sitting so she could be more comfortable eating. Her hooves were still a bit dirty, not that she intended to eat with them, but it still seemed rude even though she was merely having a snack on a train.
“Could I have a few extra napkins?” Rarity asked. The crystal pony gave her a few extras, and Rarity quickly wiped her front hooves clean, the dust clinging with a static charge to her coat. She needed a proper bath, but at least this showed she was trying.
“I know it’s dry out there. I hope this helps.” She gave Rarity a small bottle of mineral water, of a brand the pony didn’t recognize. It was easy enough to tell what it was, even with the unusual script and branding that Rarity couldn’t read. She supposed she’d have to get used to that -- the further they got from home, the more things there would be that Rarity would have to learn.
“Thank you again,” Rarity said quietly.
Kyanite bowed and moved on towards Diana, speaking quietly with the tall unicorn. Rarity turned back to her own snack, not wanting to stare. The moon cake was all sugar, but that’s exactly what Rarity wanted. It helped her mood immensely and helped her forget some of the shapeless terror she’d found in the silent darkness.
It seemed impossible, distant, and foalish now, like a filly being afraid of shadows cast through her window at night. The kind of thing that Sweetie Belle might fear, not Rarity. Rarity was an adult and had been for as long as she could remember. It had taken some time to learn the nuance, naturally, how to conduct oneself in any social situation, how to wear makeup properly, how to walk and talk. Those were just the trappings other adults expected, work she had to put in to be accepted.
She wiped her hooves again, and the dark marks the dust made on the paper napkin caught her attention. She carefully laid one of the remaining napkins out on the seat across from her and started drawing, using a splash of the mineral water and the clinging dust to form a kind of crude ink. It was a bit like sketching in charcoal.
“What’s this?” Diana asked. Rarity didn’t jump or even react, this time. She was too busy thinking and trying to create to allow her body to do such a thing.
“I don’t have a drawing pad or pencils, but I want to try and capture what I saw before I forget too many details,” Rarity explained. It was impossible to capture all of it. The detail would have been microscopic and she was working with crude tools. It was all she could do to fill in the outlines of the grand shape Luna’s pain had carved into the moon.
“It’s beautiful,” Diana said.
“It’s only a poor copy,” Rarity said when she was as finished as she could be. She stepped back to look. It was something like a landscape combined with a painting of a painting, a shadow of something real.
“If you think that’s a poor copy I look forward to seeing work you’re proud of,” Diana said, putting a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “I know a spell that should protect it, if you’ll allow me?”
“Please do,” Rarity agreed.
Diana’s horn lit up, and the napkin flashed. “It’s a preservation spell that will keep water and wear away. I’m told it lasts a century or so.”
“That gives me quite a while to learn it myself,” Rarity noted. She held it up to look at it for a little longer.
What could she create, with endless lifetimes and nothing to fill them?