NON-FALSE ALARM
Few mortals can escape my watchful vigil, fewer still for weeks on end. Nary a soul through my lifespan whom have done so have been pegasi without magical aid nor proof against detections. And so here I lie in my mattress of ether, searching the minds and hearts of fair Equestrians for a fortnight without results. To speak not of mine ego would be a lie of omission, and such a failing has left me increasingly frustrated, and questioning of who it is that conspires against me.
The dreamscape expands around me as my consciousness enters a higher plane, branching out and revealing to me the inner machinations of the minds of all ponies within my moon’s reach. The first to appear to my sixth sense are those closest, and then those most powerful. Nary a hundred meters away lies Sister’s wellspring of soul, an overpowering radiance against the veritable sea of comparatively non-existent specs. I tune her out, and it changes the perspective, allowing me to focus on the average ponies whom require help most.
Seven, nightmare. The sky falls. I show the world as it is, and impart unto them that not all things are within their control.
Twenty-five, night terror. The merciful solution to these is to simply sever their connection to the dream realm. They do not dream that night, though it imparts rest upon their body for a time such that I can devote the time the truly deserve to resolve the underlying issue.
One hundred fourty-eight, another nightmare. The mare’s carrot farm is destroyed and she is the subject of a witch hunt. A gentle reassurance that those she cares for do not, in fact, secretly harbor hate and resentment in secret puts her fears to rest.
It is at this point nearly two minutes has passed, and I’m nearly halfway through Canterlot and its’ outlying regions. Swift work, but temperamental. Surface level and temporary for many. For while I search for Goldfish and the conspirators of the Chronomancer’s guild, as they so infuriatingly dub themselves, I cannot afford my subjects my full attention as I normally do. It brings me a great sadness to neglect my subjects so, to only give them a brief respite, though it is an evil most necessary. So I tell myself.
In truth, I am aware of my growing obsession with locating Star Swirl. By extension I wish to locate his subordinates, as probing any one of their minds could lead me to him. And should I be so blessed by father that this may be the first iteration where he has progressed so far in this timeline, he won’t expect it. I haven’t decided what precisely I shall do with him when I confront him again, though it will certainly be most painful.
I must maintain my focus. I skipped over a small foal during my inner dialogue, I cannot afford lapses in judgement nor duty. I split a part of my consciousness away to guide the filly while the rest of me continues to walk the dream realm.
What non-detection could be so powerful it usurps even my all-seeing night eye, and transcends into the realm of dreams? Certainly no incantations of this age, though the furthest magic had ever progressed was just before the Chaos Wars, and no such spell existed to mine knowledge even then. Such leaves three options, or two should I not be so humble.
Firstly: Perhaps an ally conspires against me, pointedly sabotaging my progress for unknowable reasons.
With an effortless and subconscious swing in direction all other connections fade, and sister’s raging flame burns brightly before me, though I do not pervade into it. Such a suspicion is unwarranted, and to betray our mutual trust would obliterate the fragile understanding I’ve only just reached with her. Should I have suspicions, I should speak to her before prying.
Secondly: A powerful unicorn has concocted a powerful anti-divination magic and successfully cast it, with no help from the academies nor the ancient archives. The last two points I can be certain of as I had spies planted within both immediately upon my return.
My mind falters as my consciousness gives pause to that line of thought. A unicorn with savant-like magical prowess and a keen interest as well as capability in spellcasting, that wouldn’t raise any alarms with my spies? Only one comes to mind, ridiculous though the notion is.
I expand my field of influence, many multiple thousands of sleeping souls forming indirect connections with me until I reach Ponyville. Unsurprisingly, Twilight Sparkle’s connection to the dream realm is barely existent. Though, like sister, even such a weak connection from her burns brightly against the backdrop of an average pony. Even awake, ponies are connected here through daydreams and visions of the future. Taking a peek into her psyche, though, I see only runic formulae and anatomy studies appearing in equal measure. A strange combination, though by no means beyond normalcy for a mare so studious.
I shake my non-existent head and scoff at myself with a non-existent breath. Clearly Twilight Sparkle does not conspire against us, she hath saved us on a multitude of occasions… Admittedly, before we all but stole away her assistant and surrogate child. Such a thing could have made her spiteful…
No. The rationale is unjust and hardly believable. There is no reason to suspect Twilight Sparkle. If there truly is a skilled mage involved in keeping them hidden, it is not her. Likely it is Star Swirl himself, though even he could not maintain such powerful magic over all of his operatives and over such long distances for months or years at a time.
The third option is that I have simply missed her, or that I do not have the broad reach I believe myself to within the dream realm. It is an intrusive thought I do grapple with on occasion, though it has the telltale signs of self-doubt and loathing etched into its’ very basis. Although a dreamwalker I may be and a Goddess We are, such facts do not innately grant me control over the reality of such things.
I pull away from Ponyville, from the surrounding settlements, from Equestria. I focus my own psyche inwards, observing my own connection with myself in the dream. Much like looking into a mirror, the self-doubt reflects in my connection. Every feeling, every question, every emotion changes how I interact with the ponies here, and should I lose my confidence, I would become an ineffective guardian.
Even only looking inward, I still feel the presence of sister radiating against my own. Her will is vast and burns brightly here, making it impossible to tune her out completely.
‘Not because I suspect you, dearest sister. Only to satiate curiosity.’ I convince myself.
I dive against her mental defenses, slipping past with a practiced ease to look into what’s happening in her mind.
She’s in some kind of meeting with either a noble’s representative or a dignitary. Some pony’s mouth is moving, but she’s hardly registering the output of the dialogue. Noble, then. I can’t see or hear what’s happening exactly as she’s experiencing the real world and is very much awake, but what I can experience is the multi-hued wig and clown nose she is imagining the representative wearing. Tame, slightly juvenile, and so very Celestia.
There’s a blip in my connection. Something I’ve never felt before, but an ever-so-subtle interruption in my observation. In that brief time the daydreaming has stopped, drastically weakening her connection to the dream realm. In the fraction of a second I have before I’m forced to pull away there’s a piercing green light that fills my senses. An all-too-familiar presence of a great evil that riles up the nightmare within, and the feeling of a burning black flame.
Forcefully severing my connection before it can spread into me, I bolt upright in my bedchambers sweating profusely. My mane is just beginning to settle when I light my horn and throw myself from my bed, jumping into a breakneck gallop towards my now-open door and through it into the halls. The two Lunar Guard jump in surprise, and I think one of them exclaims something, but I cut him off before he can start with useless inquiries.
“My sister may be compromised, join me but maintain a safe distance. Should I turn, signal the Thestrals and Captain Crescent Slash.” I spew the words as they come to me, my eyes still dilating from the light of the late morning.
Without a word they fall in line behind me, leaving a respectable distance between both themselves and myself. I begin weaving a low tier magic detection spell, and immediately my vision is overlayed in yellow and orange as the many wards and charms lining every inch of the castle come into view as if painted in colored chalk. What I’m looking for is precisely where I expected it, in the throne room. Sister’s blazing magical signature, uncontainable and incomparable, even by the many M-Vis poured into the throne’s wards. It makes the light pinkish-red of the charms seem a pittance in contrast to the deep crimson wellspring inside her chest.
I round another corner, dropping the spell as we enter the public wings so I might watch where I gallop, lest I crush a poor castle tender underhoof in my stampede. The heavens guide my hoof in this morn, however, as the halls are clear and ponies scarce all the way to the throne room proper. There’s a small line of various walks of like waiting for their turn at five minutes of their ruler’s time, however I pay them no heed as I continue my charge.
“Unseal the chamber!” I command the Royal Guards at attention without slowing down. They seem startled, though being faced with the imminent threat of being trampled by myself and my entourage they swiftly clamber over themselves to comply, one using their magic and the other manually pulling at the handles to allow me to burst past the threshold, interrupting whatever meeting had been taking place. Sister raises her head at the intrusion, mouth still hanging open mid-sentence, and stares back down at me in surprise. A cursory glance reveals that all is well with her, however I know the nature of umbrum corruption.
“All of you, evacuate the premises post-haste! Those under Canterlot’s Royal banner, by oath you are to comply!” I shout at the room. Sister’s look of shock spreads to everypony at that point, but this is the part where I reinforce the order before anypony begins to challenge me. They do that in this age. “This means NOW!”
The effect is immediate. The record keepers and advisors begin packing up what essentials they can hold in their hooves and rise from their places, and her aide looks up at her with a confused and torn expression, unsure if she, too, is bound by such an order. Sister narrows her eyes with that unreadable mask, but without averting her gaze from me nods her permission to the mare, who quickly begins filing out with the rest of the staff.
The noble’s messenger pony looks indecisive, though whether it’s by my entrance or his unwillingness to book another appointment the arrogance of his not being moving already exhausts the non-existent patience of mine he had to begin with, and instead of asking permission I simply light my horn and teleport him just outside of the chambers, by way of the double doors propped open behind me.
“Luna, I presume there’s a sound reason you’re interrupting Day Court unannounced and issuing evacuation commands?” She questions, pointedly quietly enough for the ponies outside the throne room to not hear, though some staff are still filing out. I wait a few seconds before responding, giving them time to clear out just in case I am indeed correct.
“You two, at the doors. Outside. My prior order stands.” I command my guards. Immediately they retreat to the tail end of the evacuating ponies, walking backwards to face further into the throne room until they stop beside the doors. I give them a quick nod as the last of the aides file out, and they yank control from the Day Guards out front, sealing the chamber and reinstating the silencing and anti-teleportation wards. Now only sister and myself occupy the vast chamber.
“Luna, what in mother’s name are you doing? If Trottingham isn’t on fire-“
“Remain still and do not resist, sister. I suspect you are under a charm and may be a danger to us all, including yourself.” I counter, interrupting another pointless discussion. I take a few steps forward and light my horn in the beginnings of a Detect Evil spell, followed quickly by a hushed start to the verbal components of a Remove Curse incantation. Celestia chooses to disobey my request, however, and raises herself to a standing position on the dais, shaking her head wildly.
“I can assure you I’m under no such spells. What makes you think I’ve been charmed, or perhaps you suspect some kind of hex?” The mask falls away completely without any of her subjects to save face for, and she looks down at me with an incredulous expression. “Honestly, Luna, you’re going to bring us back to the dark ages again if you keep-“
“An individual under the effects of a charm are unlikely to be privy to such a thing, of which you should be keenly aware. I am afraid I must insist. Please, subject yourself to my spell of your own will, that I might purge it from you.” I summon a bright swirl of azure light to the base of my horn, reaching out through reality to extend my spell into dreamspace, where I can directly search her consciousness. It’s a subtle art, casting through realms, and though slower it has the added benefit of being both uncounterable and undetectable until it has already executed, anchoring itself back amongst the material planes.
Sister however, being no fool, is privy to such methods. As the connection for my spell links into her wellspring and materializes in an instant, it’s dispelled with an almost subconscious wave of her horn, and her gaze grows dour.
“I can’t let you to do that, Lulu.”
I narrow my eyes and shift my hind hooves slightly to the side on instinct, preparing to dodge if the need arises. It’s doubtful whatever effect has hold of her has the capacity to control her actions, though with the many mounting stresses of the last few weeks I can’t be sure she’s grounded enough to resist such magical suggestions. Purely as a precaution, I flutter my wings and let them hang half-extended at my sides.
“So you acknowledge awareness of it, though still refuse aid. Under what duress would you hide such a bane?” I begin circling from the center of the chamber, approaching the throne at an angle with slow, measured hooffalls. She meets my gaze evenly, and there’s a clear air of distrust between the two of us.
“Under none. It is no bane, sister, it is a crutch.” Her reply comes without hesitation, and I pause briefly before continuing around.
“What could the nature of such a crutch be, to have influence over your mind? For you to allow it into your mind!” I stop short just beyond the edge of the dais and regard her with a raised brow. My tone is stern now, but not quite accusatory. My concern is genuine, I have no way of knowing if any of the words she speaks are even her own so long as she is under a spell.
“What reason did you have to even suspect such a thing? We agreed to not pry so deeply as we have before, and I’ve specifically asked you to refrain from-“
“You shall not deflect me like some commonpony, sister!” I slam my forehooves down on the lowest step pointedly, and silence creeps in as she cranes her neck and tilts her head into the air, an air of anger building behind her eyes. I meet the stare with a resolute and determined gaze, but hers does not relent.
“I know of your tantabus.” She quips pointedly. My head jerks back and I open my mouth to retort, but she interrupts me to continue. “I am aware of its’ existence and potential, though I allow you it without judgement despite my own opinion out of respect. I do not judge your laying with our subjects, nor tirades against the orderly and disciplined nature of this new age because I know they help you to cope.”
How could she possibly know about the tantabus? It’s a recursive and contained entity, it cannot be shared nor observed. It isn’t possible to know of it without being a dreamwalker or a mind reader. Despite what many may believe, Celestia is neither.
“Explain how you have come to know such things. Were you dishonest in your claims to have failed in recreating Our dream magic?” I accuse, ascending a few steps towards her throne.
“Divination. You tell me of it yourself, not too long from now. When your current lover passes away, it’s going to be just as difficult. You’ll be hurt and vulnerable, and-“
“Stop.” I request loudly, closing my eyes tightly as the word echoes off the chamber walls for a scant second as I pause my ascent halfway up the dais. I can tell she has that look of motherly sympathy, as if she’s the one responsible for making it all alright. It’s just how she is, and the pity does me no favors. Nor does the very real reminder of my subjects’ mortality.
“It’s not-“
“I do not require your console, sister.” I cut her short. “You are deflecting once more. I cannot trust your promises nor judgement if your thoughts may be clouded by spellcraft. If you do not trust me enough to allow me into your mind I shall designate a magician you do trust- Perhaps even Twilight Sparkle, to whom I am certain you have the utmost faith in- but I cannot allow this to go unchecked.” I look back up at her once more, and the expression is indiscernible. Not quite pained, but not upset either. There’s no sorrow, but the space behind her eyes is struggling to show something.
“This is my Tantabus, Luna. I need it. Truly, need it. It holds influence over me, you’re right to be critical of it, but it’s a spell of my own execution that aides me in ways I can’t begin to explain.” Her face changes again, and there’s a spark that finally takes root in her demeanor; Desperation. It takes me by surprise to see such a look on her.
“Luna, please, I need you to trust me. I know I haven’t shown you the faith I’m asking for since your return, and our relationship may be tested by this among other things, but I swear to you that I’m perfectly fine and sane.”
“Celestia…” I hesitate, grappling with the weight of her words. “I do trust you. Well and truly I do, though I care and worry in equal measure. What if one of our subjects were to discover such a thing?” I question.
“My own student ran a diagnostic spell on me during our instruction session, for reasons unrelated. Even she was none the wiser.”
“How is that possible? Twilight Sparkle of all ponies could not overlook-“
“Because she isn’t versed in this kind of magic. No wizard in our kingdom is capable of detecting it, and only a scant few from our allied regions might harbor such specialists.”
My mind races to piece together how in Tartarus Twilight of all ponies could have missed a curse. A charm strong enough to anchor within an Alicorn, willing or not, would have to leave a massive magical signature. If it was magic Celestia knew but Twilight didn’t, in a style undetectable to modern runic scrying…
“An umbrum curse.” I mutter. She nods, slowly. “What kind of boon could justify-“
“I will not elaborate, sister. I ask that you don't pry into my mind nor my dreams again, I can’t be certain of the effects it could have if you do.”
Silence again. And just like that, the conversation’s roadblocked. The only courses of action are to attempt to restrain and detain her in order to dispel the effect in expectation that it truly is harmful in nature, or to relent and believe her words are true. If I am correct and she is being controlled, am I betraying her by not doing my best to deliver her from it? Or is it my obligation as her sister to believe she has the strength and will to be telling the truth, that this is truly something she needs and simply can’t elaborate on? It’s an impossible choice.
“I do not know what course of action is justified.” I sigh, the tension leaving my previously battle-ready form. “I trust you, sister. Truly and wholly. What I do not trust is whatever force has a hold over your mind. And I cannot know to which I speak.”
It’s the best I have. I’ve spoken the truth, no more and no less. It holds no weight nor finality, and it absolutely begs guidance.
“This spell has been with me since your banishment, it’s as much a part of me as you are.” She replies softly, lifting herself from the throne and descending the steps to meet me halfway. I feel her mane brushing up against me as she leans down to rest her forehead to mine, and the familiar ritual placates my anxiety.
“Will you at least explain the reason for its’ necessity? As you have spoken I- We… Are no stranger to vices, if judgement is your fear you needn’t worry. We only fear for you, Sol.” I press my head and the base of my horn forward and interlock with her own, gazing blankly down at our hooves through lazy, distant eyes.
“You never did answer me before, you know.” She diverts. I perk my ears a bit, but keep my mouth shut. “About why you keep using my old name. Is the old language truly so dear to you?”
I give a small nod, as far as our interlocked horns allow me.
“Very much so, though it is you which is most dear to Us. It is a name in which lies our bond, our lineage. I do not understand why you ever adopted a new one.” I reply, accepting the shift in topic, but not forgetting the original question.
“Sol is the Goddess of the Sun, empress of the blazing skies. In a similar manner to Nightmare Moon, whom alone is the Night incarnate.” I feel myself tense up slightly despite myself as Celestia brings mention to my lesser half, but when I pull my head away I feel a gentle gold-clad hoof on my withers guiding my gaze back to her. She’s smiling again, with that motherly undertone she’s so famous for. It’s patronizing, and it’s condescending given the circumstance, but I let those unimportant bits sweep themselves beneath a rug as I allow myself to find relief in it. Though I may have my pride, on this one occasion I will allow my elder sister to comfort me.
“We may be those things, but we’re not just those things. Celestia and Luna are the rulers of Equestria. Even if our old names and identities are part of us, they don’t define us. It took me centuries to truly embrace that, something you’ve come to terms with in less than a decade.”
I feel a few tears begin to well up in my eyes, and I turn my head away from her.
“I… Your pupil and her friends have taught us both much. Were it not for them, we would likely be warring still. And so, I want to make good on those teachings.” I force myself to recenter and I clear my throat quickly, trying my best to keep a level but sincere tone. “I am pained that you do not trust me enough to reveal your crutch. I cannot fathom if it is distrust, magical compulsion, or ego. Being deflected and toyed with conversationally only inflates such feelings.” I admit openly, pursing my lips and looking down at the ground.
Celestia's ears perk up at that last statement, but she does not look away from me.
"I’m sorry Luna, it’s instinctual for me. I trust you as well, it’s a matter of-“
“If you trust me then for once will you share in your secrets!?” I cry out with a frustrated stomp. “You know of my dealings, of my vices, by your own word you’ve admitted that I spoke them to you of my own accord, though you act as if your flaws are somehow above sharing-!”
“I siphoned a shard of Sombra’s soul!” She suddenly yells out, turning away from me and flaring her wings. “I couldn’t bear to have him gone, so I stole a piece of his soul away into my own so I wouldn’t be without him. That’s why I couldn’t be the one to save the Crystal Empire, that’s why I had to leave everything up to Twilight and her friends! Because if I had to see him, to fight him again-“
“You would not be able to bring yourself to obliterate him.” I breathe incredulously, my voice a low rumble. Suddenly her stubborn insistence years prior on only her student going to save an entire empire began to click.
“No, because then I would lose the only piece of him I have. My Sombra is gone, I know and fully accept it. But this piece of him, the good part I can believe still exists… It helps me rise each morning, fooling myself into believing he’s really there beside me. Whispering to me while I listen to the noble houses ramble, helping theorize spellcraft as if it’s his quill writing in my compendium.”
“That sounds terrible, to meet such disappointments each day.” I murmur sadly.
“It is.” She admits, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “But it helps me stay sane. Before you came back to me, for centuries, he was all I had.” She confesses, her hind legs lowering as she sits down facing directly away from me. I let the quiet play its’ course for a few seconds, then I climb a step and sit down beside her, leaning my upper body against hers to offer some support. She doesn’t look up or say anything, but after a moment’s hesitation I feel her return the pressure.
We sat there for a minute, then two, then ten. A wordless exchange in an empty throne room, coming to terms with the reality that neither of us are perfect.
The sound of the doors to the main hall opening and closing as Crescent Slash steps inside break us out of our reverie. Sister and I both look up to address the intruder, and the old stallion wears his head high, but doffs his helm and briefly bows in a gesture of respect and apology for his intrusion. Good, I would have him hanged for any less.
“I take it I’m not required?” He asks with a merciful brevity. “I was made aware of a possible usurping.”
“Begone, captain. And do my sister the favor of informing the staff and citizens that Day Court shall be canceled for the evening.“
I feel Celestia begin to peel away from me to retort, but I’m louder.
“Should any if their issues be pressing, Night Court shall gladly hear their pleas at dusk.”
He offers a brief salute before donning his helm once more, turning and trotting out the double doors to address the masses. They mercifully close behind him before the sounds beyond can make their way in, though I do see both a set of Royal and my Night guard peering in before they shut, a look of relief on all parties.
“Luna, I can’t just cancel Day Court, some of these ponies have waited weeks to-“
“And as such they shall be first to receive an audience at Night Court in recompense for my inconveniencing them.” I reply with a smug grin. We both know that none of the cowardly nobility would dare try their double-talk high-born politics in my court, and so they would be forced to reschedule lest the need was truly dire.
“You truly can be wicked.” She eventually chuckles, resting her head against my shoulder again. I lay my cheek against the top of her head and sigh contentedly.
“Only a dishonest pony need fear me, sister. And given this is a society of polite thieves, many do.” We both suppress a giggle and enjoy each other’s company for a fair while, before I drag her from her work to enjoy our garden for the first time in months.