Dawn of Midnight

by TheApostate

Crossing the Desert

Luna smiled, putting back the letter a child had written to her. One of the foals her personal retinue.

‘Another letter?’ asked Luna.

‘From…’ Eufrimia looked closer at the gibberish the name was written in… ‘Duchess Astra of… Tall-’

‘Duchess Astra of Tall Tale,’ continued Luna. ‘Put it aside. She’s just reporting for me. She is excellent at her task. Whatever she wants, she won’t disappoint.’

‘Maybe it is important?’

‘She is clever. She and the others don’t need me to tell them what to do.’

Eufrimia silently agreed with her, still unable to properly put together the reason for her complete detachment from her earthly duties. She had used to argue with her when she was a foal learning reading and writing; it was futile to try to shift Luna’s stance. She hardly ever listened and was impossibly unmovable from her position. Just the opposite curves she would write “f” in had earned her many salty words.

Insofar as content of letters had gone, Eufrimia gleamed that supply and financial issues had been seemingly resolved, returning western internal trade to its “normal” levels. Maybe, Luna had a point.

The Batpony shrugged it away and then proceeded to again rummage in the bag like a child searching for their present.

‘Ah!’ she exclaimed.

‘What?’

Eufrimia took out the letter with her mouth. ‘From your sister.’

Luna took it and slapped Eufrimia with it. She did not bother to open it.

‘An invitation,’ said Luna in a low voice.

‘For what?’

‘Hearts Warming Eve.’ She paused. ‘I will go.’

‘Ah… We are this time of year already! Fuck me…’ She glanced toward Luna. She did not react to her word, keeping her eyes on the letter. ‘Weird.’

‘Yes. It has been a while. And in case I don’t see you until then: I hope you, Cherry, your father, and the rest have a wonderful time.’ She petted her on the head.

‘Would be nice if you would be there too. Like, actually there.’

‘I promise next year.’

‘I’ll hammer it. All year.’

‘I am not a heartless creature.’

‘Indeed, you’re not.’ You are a confusing one.

Tradition has it that, to announce the start of the two weeks of Hearts Warming Eve, a great feast must be held. A last great gathering of family, friends, close ones and the village rando nobody likes but always comes because cider is always good when it is unpaid. Though the type of food eaten would differ from region to region, the core of the festivity was the reunion around a great fireplace.

Celestia had adopted that seminal tradition to gather prominent members of Equestrian society, making her cooks prepare the meals of all Equestrian regions. She would come to her servants' help by putting a hoof at work, though she kept it a secret. She knows how to make sweets of exquisite taste, but any recipe outside her area of comfort would always end, no matter her attempts over the years, in random failures. Salt is an ingredient, she found, too difficult to accurately proportion.

Nobles, merchants, scholars, and artists had answered Celestia’s invitation. Some were regular guests ever since they had been deemed old enough to attend by their parents, others would join only to discuss business, and others still, wanted to witness the existence of the Princess.

Celestia always stood as the odd ones out from those below her – literally and figuratively. They all clamored for her attention, and she, in turn, developed the manner to ignore most of them and focus on what she deemed worthy.

Fewer had come this year, though. Celestia felt more at ease but was getting bored. Everybody was in their own little conversation about topics she understood but was unable to immerse herself in. She would interject with brief jokes or quips that amused the gallery, nothing she considered satisfying or able to retain her interest for long.

‘She did not come,’ muttered Celestia, looking at the closed door of the gallery; sad for a reason that escaped her attendance.

‘Expected, my Lady. Astra and her flock seldomly venture out of their place.’

‘I cannot blame them,’ said Celestia. ‘The trip is arduous and unpleasant.’

‘Then why bother sending invites?’ asked Phoenix Flash, prominent Canterlotian trader.

‘It is the right thing to do.’

‘The right things, yes,’ agreed Captain of Garrison, Night Sky. ‘They rarely if ever come, but it is important for someone to always be remembered. Imagine being told your friends were away on a trip and you are still at home being told they are having fun without you.’

‘Knowing Astra,’ replied Orange Ember, temporarily-hereditary-governor of the lost Crystal Empire, ‘she would not care being ignored. She is already “happy” doing her own thing.’ She made a low laugh.

‘“The regent” and her friends are a… unique folk,’ said Phoenix Flash. ‘I think they even pride themselves on not partaking in our festivities. They have that annual gala in the summer – ironically enough. Well organized but not that… interesting. Food is… Not you would expect what we get, but it is understandable. Though it is a shame, of course, their presence is lacking.’

Night Sky winced, wanting to put some words forward. He looked up to the Princess. She was just staring down, hearing them talking but not intervening.

‘That’s a deal breaker for me,’ said Countess May Sun. ‘But I always appreciated, even liked my time with them. Better than the northerners.’

‘I am still here,’ taunted Orange Ember.

‘I was talking of him,’ she pointed to a proud standing, tall stallion with a heavily ornate garment, almost rivaling the Princess’s own in its fashion – the Tsar of the loosely vassalized Severyana.

‘Sometimes,’ said Celestia. ‘I ask myself if it is the Sun I am rising or it is that standing candle stick.’

They all laughed.

‘His wife once did it,’ said Night Sky. ‘On her mane…Without magic or anything… I don’t know how.’

‘I am not surprised,’ laughed Celestia. ‘Her mind is a wonder made of gold. She can hammer rock with that head while not threatening the intelligence within. Though I want to excuse myself towards the latter.’

‘Anyways,’ came forth the Seneschal of Marulta, getting interested by the laughter around coming from around the Princess. ‘Those are the fruits of my plantation.’

She showed several wrapped leaves into wands. They all took one; Celestia took one also, looking at it with contempt she

Celestia took a long puff. She felt like vomiting. She fully recalled the crap she had been given.

‘Stop distributing it. Throw them out and never bring them up whilst in my presence,’ ordered Celestia.

The Seneschal readily did so.

‘The procession still feels empty this year, Princess,’ said the ruler of Severyana.

The cicada making its butt music again.

‘Are we waiting for someone or people to arrive?’

Celestia did not answer. She rarely bothered answering him or any of his ancestors.

‘At one point, I wonder if they even exist under any authority of yours.’

She frowned, but did not stop him in his streak. Everyone else retreated a step, fearing an argument.

‘And we rarely ever bothered knowing if she cared for our existence. If she ever did to anyone. And in view of the tribulations you are facing, Princess, you could take some notes from our-’

He could not finish. Celestia’s fiery gaze froze him in place. He should have stayed quiet. He should have not spoken. He shouldn’t. It was foolish to assume Celestia was underperforming, that she could fail in her eternal task.

He began to turn away from the group.

A spark sizzled in the air, drowning attention towards it.

Then a second, and a third. In quick succession, until a sudden burst deflagrated.

The air flickered more with magical energies. The temperature dropped under freezing, and winds picked up speed inside closed doors.

The guards moved to protect the Princess and readied themselves on every potential vector of attack. Some dropped their weapons; others were shaking. The gathered nobles turned to their ruler, gathering behind her for protection. Young and old pleaded silently for Celestia to save them from that unbeknownst attack.

For a minute, the air churned impossibly. Whoever was trying to overturn the magical wards did not bother Celestia. Her horn had been ignited. She stood in the middle of the room, patiently waiting for the intruder to end its trick.

Then a shape not so dissimilar to Celestia’s own, though shorter yet taller than all of them, appeared in the glimmering air.

The temperature rose once more. The air abruptly calmed itself. But the atmosphere was heavy and overwhelming, a mixture of ease of mind and of constant vigilance. There was no threat to their life, yet they felt unnaturally uneasy.

Was this the Luna the Princess desired to come? Was this the sister, as she is in the material world, so wanted by Celestia?

Some were in awe at her sight, enthralled by her presence alone. Others, the majority, thought that story and spirit made real was simply impossible. They thought she was a benevolent entity disconnected from the real world, occasionally and rarely descending to meet with and only her sister. Always in her eternal night, performing her orphean toil to ward off their doubts and anxiety. They heard of her leading troops, and of her interactions with their subjects, but they thought they were more in the realm of the figurative. In her scarce descents, she might have also warded off threats. But the secret in which she works was… unfriendly. They found it hard to truly trust her in that state.

‘Luna!’ exclaimed Celestia loudly, as if no one was around.

Celestia rushed herself towards her sister, letting behind the cowering nobles.

She hugged her. At least, that was Luna’s expectation. Instead, she was only greeted in line with protocol. Traditions she wasn’t sure anymore from whence they came, nor the reason for Celestia’s obstinance toward following them.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Celestia said, her voice low.

‘Me too,’ answered Luna.

‘You are not wearing proper attire,’ she mocked in a sisterly tone.

‘I sought we would be alone…’

‘I did state it in my letter, yes?’

‘I guess… I guess nothing can be done about it…’

‘I’m sorry…’

Both paused. In quick movement, Celestia took Luna between her arms.

‘I…’ began Luna, slightly hesitating with her words. She gave up, lowering her tone to barely heard mumbling. ‘I should have stayed back there.’

‘Why?’ almost lamented Celestia, the question exiting more like a plea. She pressed more.

‘I am not comfortable here.’

‘If you stay here…’ gently proposed Celestia. ‘Things will get better. I want to visit you… b-’ She stopped herself; Celestia knew whatever explanation she may have, nothing could perfectly explain the neglect. ‘I’ve overheard some… topics.’

‘Nothing that needs your intervention,’ said Luna, her head low. ‘I will not exhaust you with those. Plus, I believe you have your own flurry of issues.’

‘Things are being dealt with, though I will not interfere much in the aristocrats and officials work.’

‘Regardless, I am sure you are doing a wonderful job.’

Oh! Celestia’s beamed intensely at her sister’s words. She almost felt reinvigorated by them. ‘And I am sure you are doing a bad job as I am.’ She nudged Luna.

The sarcasm and humor in the tone were undeniable. Luna’s stoicism did not flinch. Her lips twitched, attempting to form a smile, but never materialized.

‘I am,’ quietly answered Luna.

‘You need to be more assertive in your rule.’

Celestia hated her sister’s silence.

‘I won’t decry your methods. They are effective. But the complaints and other similar missives I’ve received for the needs for funds are-’

‘It is my business. It is what I believe to be true and right. Know that your advices will fall on deaf ears.’

‘I am just trying to help… They can abuse of your absence.’

‘I am no puppet.’

‘I know. But I recommend you take heed of my words.’

Celestia tilted her head.

‘Going to the Realm later?’ she asked.

Unleash.

‘Maybe. I am not sure.’

‘I recommend you don’t this time. You are already tired, you don’t need more. Remember Griffonstone?’

‘Yeah,’ Luna agreed, a clearer smile drawing on her expression.

She hesitated to mention her visit to Anih. She hesitated to even mention Eufrimia’s existence. The Batpony was her friend, after all. Telling Celestia she existed might rob her from a creature she held dear. Celestia would want to see her; Eufrimia would get impressed; she would leave, preferring a more stable life and presence than whatever she, Luna, had been offering her. It could as well not happen either. But it might. She could not risk it.

But… then again… it was her sister. She should trust her not to let it happen… But could she? Luna wasn’t sure.

Celestia coughed loudly. ‘Your part of Equestria had some-’

Unleash!

All senses of compassion towards Celestia evaporated in an instance. ‘I thought we agreed to not intervene in each other’s affairs,’ loudly murmured Luna behind clenched teeth, getting the attention of the crowd.

‘But you were neglecting-’

Her murmur turned into an imprisoned cry. ‘I let the people do what they please! They know better than me how to exploit their land! I know what I am doing!’

‘I know.’ In one word, Luna calmed down. ‘Though, as said before, your issues are not only yours. Things fester. If you weren’t wondering around to who-knows-where, perhaps I would not need to intervene. I know you have to calm your nerves with those trips, but Equestria has to stand as a whole.’

‘I have more direct interventions,’ she nearly cursed. ‘I am not sitting here, idly waiting for something to come and then point to an order.’

‘It is more complicated than tha-’

‘I know,’ mocked Luna.

Something in her voice made Celestia wary. It had sounded too hostile.

‘Than,’ said Celestia, retaining her feelings, ‘you should know how threats and other issues are to be dealt with.’

Luna glared at Celestia, her pupils wide and her stance ready for confrontation. ‘I do not need you to tell me how threats need to be dealt with! You know nothing of that struggle. You keep that great venue that is harmony, I keep the dark, dank catacombs you and the others do not dare venture into. Oh, I know they fright you, sister. But, unlike you, I do not exaggerate my own-’

‘I do not enjoy molding the truth.’

‘Sure you are not. But again and again, you are doing it.’

‘As I said-’

‘Maybe you are molding the truth right at this moment.’ Luna paused to take her breath. ‘The Ursas threatening. Does it need needlessly boastful wording? Nothing that cannot be dealt by resorting to propaganda.’

Celestia held her words, keeping a stoic composure.

Night Sister, unbridle yourself!

‘Idiot,’ said Luna.

‘We don’t have to resolve to insults.’

‘Than stop insulting me in the first place,’ she rasped. ‘You are pathetically weak. Always has been. You stay here and-’

‘I don’t. I have my own adventures,’ she made the word into an insult.

‘I heard. I saw. And I was drowned with those tales. State sponsored tellings are really neat little tools, are they not?’

‘It is what is required. If your way it is not working, why insist pursuing it, sister? And if you crave for such att-’

‘Attention, my ass. Boasting and plastering every little, insignificant act I do, is simply a waste of time. It is fake; it is more genuine my way. I does not matter. It is, in all honesty, a bread-house for the weak.’

‘It is needed, Luna. I have to do it.’

‘Does it really require my name to have a seal of approval?’

‘An impersonator-’

Luna refused to let her continue. ‘Does it matter when the results speak for themselves!’ Luna cried a question that wasn’t one.

Then, Luna turned away and readied to cast her teleporting spell.

‘You are soon coming back, right?’

For a moment thought she had heard the voice of a little girl.

Eufrimia? No – she was a grown mare. There was no young individuals in that room of high Equestrian society.

‘Luna. Please answer me before leaving,’ shyly repeated Celestia.

‘Yes. I will.’

Unleash!

It could have been a better night. Then again, when were cold nights pleasant for any one? And especially hot nights?

Sleep never comes as you ceaselessly role in your bed in search for that needed rest. In central Equestria, somewhat far from both coastlines on the east and west and surrounded by imposing peaks covered year-round with snow, those undesirable nights were rare – usually. Years before, few would have occurred – if any – but they had become a staple of late summer and early fall. Unwelcomed and widely detested, the populace got begrudgingly used to them. Days were hotter too; the Sun acting as a quasi-inhibiter for all activities. Winters had turned colder and harsher. The populace adapted and rescheduled themselves around those unwanted conditions. But many goods once accustomed to saw their prices greatly inflate or simply stop being delivered.

Jade Hooves, First Captain of the Princely Guard, was in no position to sleep as much as he might have wished to. Just a couple of days prior, he had returned from a travel to the north east of Equestria after had come to Celestia the report of discontent brewing after a failed harvest.

Nothing was there and the rumors had turned false. Few elements had been needed to be put back into place, but nothing major that warrants the Princess’ intervention – thankfully so.

For ten years, Jade Hooves served his position diligently. It was not exactly what he expected it to be. He was First Captain but he wasn’t the leader of the Guard – Celestia was. He had asked for reforms or any manner that could reinstitute the Guard to any sort of more effective force, all the while keeping their heavily decorated plates and playing on the stoicism installed upon them. Before his appointment, he had been the only officer that maintained the ancient ways, with his higher he had hoped to influence them overall. Celestia had none of it. She did not care but not enough to simply let him free. In ranking up, Jade authority and influence was unconditionally hamstrung by Celestia. He – in his opinion – and his companion were squarely, and eternally, glorified messenger.

Many of those he knew had resigned and swiftly replaced. And, for that reason he dreaded, they were simple tools at her disposal; just things she can brandish when not present and expected to answer her very whims without protest or recognition. Never that he had any to begin with.

‘Captain Jade,’ came Strike – a new recruit under the more defined Princely Messengers divisions.

‘Hm?’ He had been reclining on a rampart. He might blare about discipline and all those wonderful things, but he was tired – creeping old age wasn’t helping either.

‘Can I-’

‘What is it about?’

‘Can I say?’

‘I am the First Captain,’ he held behind clenched teeth.

‘But I was told-’

‘By me? If not, don’t hear them.’

Strike hesitated. He shuffled around the letter, hiding the emblem etched on the seal.

‘I know what you’ve been told. I don’t care for it. Just spit the rock.’

Strike looked around, more confused at what he should do. ‘Its… nothing important – I was said to take it as. It is from Duchess Astra of-’

‘Ah! Her. It will be fun. Sure, enter then. Amuse the old, senile mare within.’

Strike jerked at the slur at Celestia’s person; he was told it was Jade’s way of speaking and should be kept a secret between them and not be reported to Celestia. While hiding information from his ruler – particularly concerning her direct protection – did not really please him at first, a certain thrill and bizarre understanding settled in quickly. Everyone was keeping it a secret and the First Captain was prudent – why risk being shunned by others simply to satisfy Celestia?

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Wait.’ Jade Hooves put himself fully in front of Strike, showing off all the ornate design of his armor. ‘How are you finding your job?’

‘I am pleased with it,’ he answered truthfully, though something made him doubt that.

‘Hm.’ Jade returned to his rampart. ‘Hope you remain bright like that. No one annoying you? I know Steel Hooves can be quite demanding.’

‘He is very supportive.’

‘Ohh! He likes you? Interesting. Well, carry on.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ He bowed, happy to hear his superior taking interest in him.

Celestia was sitting on the bare ground, her head bowed slightly. In front of her, reposing on a stone thing, a silver pendent she fixated. Nothing was next to it; it occupied a whole shelve for itself and no more, high above everything else in her chamber. Someone would have expected great extravagance within, but it was mostly empty. Of course, the accommodation for the standard expected of her standing where present, but it lacked the greatness and over-taking awe presumed. There was a table next to a three arched window leading to a humble balcony, with flowers dangling down the marble railing. In its center, an expertly made basket was sitting, filled with apples she rarely touched. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she still liked them, yet she was picky in their choosing. Even before, she never liked surrounding herself with too much apparels.

There was no noise – a rarity for her. She was comfortable with it – not anxious. For a brief moment, she felt at ease.

Celestia closed her eyes and slumped her head backward. She sighed and smiled. It was peaceful when she was alone. She opened her eyes, and took in every breath, releasing each in long exhalations.

She heard a knock on the door

Her head suddenly gained invisible weight. She closed her eyes and found it difficult to open them again. She lowered her head in resignation, letting the crown slip off, not bothering to catch it in its fall in a loud chime.

‘What is a little wait? I am used to it, after all,’ she bitterly murmured. She took a quick breath. ‘Enter!’ It exited too aggressive for her liking – she did not care.

No one entered. She must have murmured aloud. She did not care. She just wanted to be left alone.

In those moments, Celestia searched for a memory to recall, something – anything – to keep herself tethered. She had perhaps exhausted everything her mind had preserved – she wasn’t sure. She continued searching for the modicum of an experience past to be felt anew.

There was that-

‘Princess,’ entered the guard. ‘I-’

‘Get out,’ her voice filled with grovel.

He stayed silent. A semblance of a phrase drew itself upon his lips, carving itself precisely, but did not dare to be materialized. Steel Hooves had told him things like these were reported of having had happened before. He was simply not prepared for it. It should have not been him to come to the guard. He was chosen on heritage, the son of one of Canterlot’s elite. He was told and educated to always respect the Sisters; to not doubt their abilities and implicitly trust in their power. They are to be eternally respected and followed, that their wisdom will only enlightened Equestria. Less than one year in the Guard, and that education felt more and more foreign. His aunt and uncle had their entire estates confiscated by orders of Celestia and given to rivals with little prior notice. They were never of the high elite, but their rights were to be respected. Ink on paper, it seems. A contract broken with no one able to judge the criminal. But a criminal he could not make himself to go against.

‘Excuse me, I haven’t understood,’ he said, not sure if it was stress that was making him speak.

‘Get out,’ she bellowed out, stiffening a roar with clenched teeth.

He backed off until he found himself next to the door once more. ‘But the-’

‘Does it involve my sister?’ she asked, cognizant of its silly truth.

‘I…’ the guard’s arms started to tremble. ‘I… no-’

‘Then I don’t care,’ she succinctly stated. ‘Get out.’

‘I…’ He resigned. ‘Yes, Princess.’

He exited lackluster in respect of protocol; she closed the door without deigning looking back at him.

Jade Hooves took Strike aside, reassuring the new recruit it was nothing. His position was in secure hooves. Though for Strike it did not matter much, the Princess, the being he was told of her wise, patient, angelic ways, had wanted him out. Still in shock, Strike bided the Captain goodbye, taking the way back to Steel Hooves’ place.

Jade cursed a thousand curses in a second before mustering the discipline to suppress his nascent anger.

‘Idiot,’ she whispered in exasperation. Things did not used to be like that before.

Celestia sat back and closed her eyes once again; it did not take her long to know what to recall.

She remembered a river.

She remembered trees tightly lining a river she forgot the name of.

She remembered it was spring, a long time ago.

She remembered a rose tainted in blood.