You laid in your bed.
You knew what you had to do.
You did it.
Why are you here?
There’s nothing around you, your memory is fuzzy.
No, wait, there’s something. Many things in fact. It’s all black. Well, it’s an expanse of black, like space, there’s distant stars, kind of, but it doesn’t look like space. If it was space, you’d at least see the Milky Way, or maybe even Andromeda, or something you can recognize. No, all there is is black expanse and a matrix of stars.
You don’t have anything better to do, so you walk. You walk to one of the nearest star-things. You look around more, noticing that actually, the stars aren’t perfectly arrayed. They seem to ebb and flow, freely moving around in this realm, but not chaotic or unpredictable like brownian motion.
It’s comforting.
You finally reach your destination. The ‘star’ you’d walked to isn’t in fact a giant sphere of plasma and nuclear fire. It’s a small, pulsing, ball of light. For whatever reason you can’t discern its features all that well. It feels warm, but cool. It’s bright, but you can stare into it without discomfort. But it doesn’t illuminate much either, you think. It’s as large as a basketball. It’s as large as grapefruit. You can hold it, but you can’t.
Memories begin to return to you as you reach out to the orb. You don’t know what to think at first. You can feel the memories ‘unpacking’ from your mind, it’s like they were wrapped up for safekeeping and now they’re coming back to you.
But it’s not like… Not like…
They feel separate, still. You don’t feel complete, yet. It’s like there’s a divider between you, and your memories.
Getting back up—you hadn’t realized you’d sat down—you notice the star/orb/ball of light thing is gone. But not completely. The warmth is still with you, and now the rhythm of the land is too. There’s another star you feel you can walk to.
That’s not the only thing.
The land has more color, mostly abstract shades of purple and blue and red, blended in with the background. There’s a silver path as well, leading to that star. On closer inspection it twinkles and shines. Tiny glimmers of light giving it its color. You can’t pick it up, but it feels right.
You continue on, taking in more of your environment as you go. You feel more awake than before. Lighter on your feet too. Wait, you’re floating, that explains it.
You pause. How though? You look around more, but there’s only stars.
Resting, feeling, observing, the stars and the landscape steadily, slowly, expand and contract, pulse and still, ebb and flow. You’re doing it too. Looking around more, you can see you’re moving with the landscape but remaining still all the same. More than that, it’s a heartbeat. How did you not notice?
It doesn’t matter, it’s peaceful and you could stay here for ages. But you won’t, there’s something in you that says to keep moving to that next star. So you do, and you reach it. It’s like the last one, but it has a different aura than the last. Deep down, you know you won’t be the same after this, but you know nothing here will hurt you. Nothing here wants to hurt you. Maybe that’s why you’re getting these instincts? A warning of some kind?
You thank the stars for the warning but you have to know what it is that’s being shielded from you. You reach out and the star fades into you.
Nothing happens.
At first, it feels silly, to have your instincts be wrong. Your hovering slows and you’re lowered to the ground. There feels to be a great deal of nothing happening, but you know it’s not nothing.
A sniff. Heavier breathing. Composure slipping. The memories and the emotions that come with them—the ones that brought you here—have come back to you. Worse, you aren’t dulled to them like you were in life. Tears stream down your face and choked wails escape you.
Something lands beside you, but you don’t look until you’re wrapped in a soft embrace. Whoever it is comforts you, “There there.” She rubs your back. You recognize her voice, but it’s almost unbelievable. It can’t be her, can it?
“It is.”
Shocked, you manage to tamp down on your sobbing to look at her.
As impossible as it is, it’s Princess Luna!
“Indeed.”
You lose yourself again as more tears well within you. She doesn’t say anything more, only pulling you in as you sob into her shoulder.
“I’m—” You swallow back your tears, “I’m sorry.”
Luna pets your hair, it doesn’t fix your sadness, but it helps. “What is it that you are sorry for?”
“I was weak, and selfish, and a coward.” She holds you tighter and you continue, “I just couldn’t keep going. I was too weak. I should never have been born, at least then I wouldn’t have made my friends and family upset.” Years upon years of fear, hurt, loathing, apathy, and pain all stumble out of your mouth. “I could have tried more, but I couldn’t. I could’ve— I didn’t— I wasn’t— I, I…”
Luna held you and you cried more. It hurt less now.
“Do you know what I think?” She waited for an answer but when none came she continued, “I think you tried your hardest. You had a weight you could not bear, but you tried. No pony can blame you for that, you continued until you could not.”
You held her tighter, “I’m still a coward though and I hurt my parents and friends and everyone who ever cared about me. I was a waste of time.”
“If what you seek is my judgment, you will not find it.”
Tears come to you once more, “No, that’s not what I want.”
She waits until you finish crying, “Will you look at me?”
You nod into her fur and she carefully pulls you away. Your head is downcast but she gently guides your head with her wing until you’re looking deep into her eyes.
Luna gives you a sad smile which shines like the moon behind her, her eyes, as deep as everything else here, hold an understanding which you recognize all too well.“What is it that you want?”
“I want to go to Equestria.”
She chuckles and your body grows warmer, “Yes, those who find me typically do. What else?”
“I want everything to be ok.”
She nods, you feel so much lighter now, like nothing can weigh you down. “What else?”
Your words come quicker now, as though a fire has been lit within you, “I want to remember everything. I don’t want to forget this.”
Luna tilts her head, “And why is that?”
“So I won’t ever be ungrateful.”
Her expression wavers at that and she tucks your mane behind your ears. “Anything else?”
You’re above her now, “It won’t hurt anymore?”
“No, it won’t.” She cups your cheek, “I understand what it feels like, to have been in your place; I cannot guarantee you will never feel pain, but this grief will not follow you.”
For the first time, you see yourself, fur and all, reflected in her eyes and you smile a hopeful smile.
“We’ll be friends?”
A tear came to her eyes, “Yes.”
You hugged her as you drifted higher. The beat of the land grew vibrant within you, and you were born.
Luna was alone, back in the physical world with none around but the night guards stationed in the throne room. She was grateful this duty was rare. Sparing no time she closed the night court, found her sister, and wept.