Lying on her side, weak and helpless, Nightmare Moon shivered against the cold lunar surface. Pieces of her enchanted silver armor she'd taken off were strewn next to her, in varying states of disrepair. As she let out another shuddering breath, her horn glowed faintly, and she slowly pulled her dented helm off of her head before it unceremoniously fell to the ground with a clang. Her mane lay flat and dull, devoid of magic, resembling that of a regular pony's. Feeling rather faint, the tired alicorn lowered her head down to the ground, unable to keep it up any longer.
Is this... Is this how it truly ends? Nightmare thought, her breathing shallow and labored. Initially, she had planned on sustaining herself with pure magic alone in her form as Nightmare Moon. Given enough time, she could burn magic to regain energy, and with it, heal her wounds—no doubt she could recoup her losses and try her escape again. No amount of broken bones would break her conviction, and as long as there was a chance, she would not give up.
The nature of this place, however, had crushed her hopes. She could withstand its extreme weather—cold as the peak of Mount Everhoof and hot as the blazing deserts of Saddle Arabia. But she couldn't overcome being starved of magic—the power that allowed her to fight on. Here, the only thing she could feel around her was the harsh invisible cosmic waves radiating from the aether, which made her horn ache and added a feeling of dread to the bleak planet. This wouldn't just be her prison as she first assumed; it would also become her tomb.
Sprawled on the surface of the moon, Nightmare winced, an agonized gasp escaping her as immeasurable pain flared from the base of her right wing and her hip. The weight of fatigue was immense, and the radiating pain from her limbs immobilized her. She realized that, as much as she tried, she couldn't get herself back up. Her eyes filled with tears, and she stifled her cries as she clenched her jaw. To her right, her large open wing lay limp, the base of the appendage twisted in an unnatural angle. It was the final result of her struggles—her futile attempt at freedom.
Determined and zealous, she had given her all to cross the immeasurable distance between Equus and the moon. With all her magical prowess and physical endurance, she soared across the aether, only to find out that the spell that chained her was not so willing to give her up, and its strength only increased exponentially the more she flew further.
Her every attempt at escaping the curse had only brought her pain and injuries, each one of her tries more desperate than the last. With each fall, her body was bruised. Every time she was pulled, hurtled back, and crashed onto the moon, her body would break. Yet she did not stop; she would haphazardly mend her bones back, ignore the pain, and try again. She had to. Her subjects were counting on her. It was her duty to set things right, to act when no one else could, but this last blow proved to be the final nail in the coffin for the Fallen Princess. Wracked with pain, out of magic, and unable to move, the only thing she could do now was whimper pathetically.
I guess this is it. Nightmare coughed pitifully between her cries, more tears welling as her every breath and movement brought agony to her mangled body. This is how I die.
Nightmare was no stranger to death; she had lived through turbulent periods of unrest and witnessed lives coming to their abrupt end, some violently and unwillingly. Naturally, she had often pondered the manner of her own demise. Would it come from the thrust of a sword in battle? Or perhaps through an assassin's poison slowly consuming her from within? Maybe it would be a magical explosion from a spell gone awry? As it turned out, fate had a cruel twist in store, delivering her a death filled with woe: broken, alone, and suffering. She resembled a withered and pitiful creature in its dying throes, leaving behind a legacy tarnished by failure.
Her intermittent coughs had gotten worse at this point. Although the Mare of the Moon tried her best to hold them back, she could stifle them no longer. She felt her chest tighten and her lungs burning up. Tears streamed down her face as she closed her eyes shut, unable to stop the painful convulsions that shook her body. As Nightmare coughed her lungs out, she didn't notice the wisps of black and violet smoke she continuously expelled out of her mouth. The more she hacked violently, the more of it came out of her, coalescing into a shifting ball of energy, its colors navy blue with a purple outline.
When her coughing fit had finally stopped, the exhausted mare opened her eyes back and was met with the ball of magic floating in front of her. She wasn't surprised, nor was she scared. Instead, the only thing she felt was sorrow.
"Tantabus..."
She spoke weakly, staring at the magical construct she designed, molded, and brought to life with her very own magic. It was her labor of love, its origins hidden from many due to its nature of being crafted from shadow magic. For Luna, it wasn't just a complex bundle of spell matrices. It was her assistant, helping her with various tasks. It was her faithful companion, following her with no hesitation. When it merged with Luna and lent its strength to her, it even became an armor that shared her pain and gave her courage, allowing her to take on the role of Nightmare Moon. But despite their combined strength, they'd come to face their limits. With no more magic left in its host to leech off of, Tantabus's merge became unstable, and Luna's body was forced to violently expel it out of her.
The Princess of the Moon glanced at her body. Despite her teary, blurry vision, she could see that her coat was no longer pitch black; it was midnight blue. Not only that, she could feel that she was a tad smaller, and the proportions of her limbs had shifted as well. She was back to being Luna. Pathetic. Weak. Helpless.
Sensing its creator's distress, the shifting ball of shadow quickly came to her side. Like a scared foal concerned for its mother's safety, it did not know what to do. It pushed her sides and shook her, urging her to stand back up. It even tried to lift her limp body back up with all its might, but all its efforts were for naught. It was just too much for the starved ball of shadow magic. Luna felt pity for the thing and called it forth, and when it floated back in front of her, she raised her head and connected the tip of her horn with the shadowy blob. Forming a magical connection that bridged them, the two began conversing in her mind.
"That's enough, Tantabus. It's no use."
"No."
"It's not your fault, you've done your best. I want you to rest now."
"No. Fight."
Nightmare sighed at the apparent stubbornness coming from her creation. Did it even know that it didn't matter anymore? That she'd lost? That her mistakes had spelled doom for the both of them?
"Home. Fly."
"No, Tantabus. You know I can't."
"Fight."
"Enough. You're not making any sense."
"No. Fight."
"Would you stop that?! There's nothing we can do! Nothing!" Amid her profound exhaustion and pain, Luna's patience wore thin. Irritated by Tantabus' repeated nonsense, her anger suddenly flared up, and she voiced her frustrations out loud. "You think you're giving me hope, but it only adds to my pain. We both know this is the end. We've given our best shot, you and I. But I don't have any strength left in me. I don't even have enough magic to fix my wing anymore." Tears pooled at the edge of her chin before they dropped onto the dry, powdery soil of the moon. "So if you want to do any more favors, stop annoying me and go away. Let me die in peace."
The ball of shadow shrunk and recoiled at her outburst; its distress was made apparent. Seeing its reaction, Luna quickly realized her mistake, knowing she shouldn't have said that. Tantabus just wanted to help; how ungrateful she was to berate her loyal companion who only wished her well. But it was too late. Tantabus had withdrawn from her horn, severed their connection, and glided away from her.
Desperately, Luna tried to stop it. She cried out, pleading for it to come back, yet it still made no difference. She could only watch her magical construct fly away as fast as it could until it disappeared completely out of her sight. As much as her heart sank and regret flooded her, she couldn't take back her mistake. There wasn't much the distraught mare could do now other than drop her head down and feel the depressive silence consume her.
"I'm a failure, aren't I?" Luna muttered in a near whisper. "Even till the very end."
Now truly alone, lying on the ground, Luna faced her impending doom. Judging from the scant amount of magic left in her, she guessed she didn't have much time left; her breathing spell would only last half an hour at best. And for those last few minutes, she reminisced about her past. Her friends. Her sister. Her mounting regrets, and her hopes of what could have been. As her labored breaths turned more sluggish and clarity slipped away from her, Luna's eyelids slowly closed. Waiting for the inevitable, she stopped resisting and let the last of her meager strength leave her body. She felt the ember inside her fade, the moon's chilling embrace was overwhelming her body. Would she suffocate? Or would the Pale mare appear before her in her rattling skeletal body and claim her due? Whatever painful demise was in store for her, Luna thought it was only a matter of time before she met it.
She couldn't have been more wrong.
Luna found it odd that, for some reason, her body was getting warmer. It felt rather peculiar that trace amounts of magic were flowing into her from none other than her horn. She wasn't so sure this was supposed to happen; she didn't expect her death would feel this comforting, after all. Opening her eyes, a familiar sight of her shimmering dark blue and purple companion greeted her, hovering and connected to her horn.
...Tantabus?
Normally, she'd regularly feed Tantabus with her magic, not just to provide sustenance but also for Tantabus to modify its own spell matrices, to learn, grow, and improve upon itself. The little ball of shadow would like it so much that it would beg her multiple times a day, even right after she fed it. Knowing that, for a moment, she found it hard to believe what was happening. She didn't know when it had managed to learn how to do it, but it was unmistakable. Tantabus came back and was now feeding her magic.
Dumbfounded and touched at the same time, Luna simply stared at her creation, feeling more of its magic slowly trickling into her. When Luna tried to stop it, Tantabus pulled itself off of her. She still didn't quite understand. Even if it knew how to feed her magic, how was it even capable of doing it? The thing must have been drained to the limit as much as she was if not more! A slight pang of guilt crept up on her conscience, worried that Tantabus was breaking down its own magical body to help her.
"Tantabus, I'm not mad at you. You don't have to do this."
When Luna's words were ignored, she set aside whatever pain she was enduring in concern for her companion and raised her head back up. Attentively, her eyes tracked Tantabus's every movement. She watched the two-toned ball of shadow float some distance away from her and flatten itself against the ground. At a distance, it almost looked like someone had spilled some dark, shimmering liquid on the moon's gray surface, which brought more confusion out of its creator. She knew Tantabus's habits, and she knew what it liked. It liked to hide inside her billowing mane and under her wings, where it was warm and soft. The icy lunar landscape was neither of those things. So why was it doing that? Was it hurt? Sad? Both?
After several minutes had passed, Luna felt a bit of solace when she saw Tantabus rise back up from the ground. Regaining its spherical form, it quickly drifted back to her. Seeing that whatever signs of anger or irritation were gone from Luna's face, Tantabus slowly stretched its ethereal tendrils to her horn, and a connection was made once more.
"Fight."
"Tantabus, you've been nothing but loyal to me all this time. For that, I couldn't be more grateful. I truly am." As Luna "spoke" to her companion, she felt more magic flowing into her. Despite it being meager for her standards, she immediately felt relief; she could think straight again, and she wasn't shivering as much as she used to. "Yet I can't let you do this. The last thing I want is for you to suffer more than you already have."
"No. Fight."
"I won't take that as an answer. It's noble of you to do this, but I won't let you cannibalize yourself just to help me! I know you're as drained as I am; where else is your magic coming from?"
"Moon."
Luna paused, a hint of bewilderment crossing her face.
"Tantabus, there's nothing here. You're not making sense. Again."
"No. Moon."
"Maybe I should have worked on giving you more than just rudimentary responses."
Even as Tantabus finished feeding her magic and withdrew its tendrils, Luna still processed its short yet perplexing statement. What was it even trying to say? Shaking her head, she watched her shadowy companion float a short distance away, then flatten itself on the ground like a pancake.
There it is doing it again.
Tantabus's actions further confounded her. Was it broken? If it was breaking itself down, she considered whether that might be causing Tantaubs to act erratically. Who knows which part of its spell matrix was damaged? However, she found herself hesitant to give weight to such a possibility. If it were truly dismantling itself, she would be able to notice it. So far, the two-toned ball of shadow glimmered as usual with no noticeable damage, and aside from when she yelled at it, it wasn't even showing any signs of distress.
What if... The gears in the princess's head continued to turn. What if Tantabus was right?
What if Tantabus wasn't malfunctioning at all? What if there was some truth to its words? Tantabus hadn't malfunctioned before, let alone acted outside reason to this degree, right? Luna furrowed her brows, trying to recall her memories of handling her creation. The conclusion she reached was: well, mostly. Tantabus followed her requests with little complaint, happy to help her in any way it could. Sometimes, though, it liked to do its own thing. When she let it be on its own, it would occasionally wander away for whatever reason, missing from minutes to a day and a half. There were also times when it chose to deviate from her requests. When Tantabus was feeling particularly mischievous, it liked to snack on magical sources when it thought Luna wasn't looking, despite her scoldings.
Still, she loved her creation to bits and thought giving more freedom and leeway wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She didn't want it to follow every single request of hers to the death like some slave, that was for sure. Luna still remembered the time when Tantabus sapped all the magic from Starswirl's door and ruined its enchantment inlay. Oh, Starswirl was so mad. Even with her bodily discomfort, a faint grin crept up the mare's face as she recalled one of her fond memories. She still remembered how funny it looked. Tantabus stuck to the door like some giant shimmering slug, gnawing on its magic as if it were a big piece of lettuce.
Sighing, Luna looked back at her magical companion, still lying flat on the moon's surface.
Kind of like that.
...
For several seconds, the Mare of the Moon failed to see the connection. When she did, however, the air seemed to be charged with tension as she processed the true implications of her companion's behavior.
No, it can't be like that.
Luna lowered her gaze and looked down at the lifeless, gray soil she lay upon.
...Could it?
It seemed almost absurd. She didn't want to give herself any false hopes, hesitant to believe what she had pieced together in her head. If there was any magic on the moon's soil, surely her sensitive hooves would have noticed it already. But her hesitation was brief. The implication brought a mixture of hope and trepidation, and her heart began to race. In her mind, she'd already made up the course of action she would take.
Wounded and lying on her side, it was tricky to angle her horn correctly in her position, especially when the muscles in her neck felt as stiff as rocks. After several failed attempts, Luna finally managed to position her horn and stab it sideways into the moon's soil as deeply as she could. Channeling what little magic Tantabus had given her through her horn, she then concentrated, desperately trying to scan the ground for any sign of energy.
At first, she felt nothing but the icy temperature threatening to freeze her horn off. Everything about this place seemed as lifeless as she had first presumed, and her doubt was already making short work of the little hope she had. What if it really was just false hope, and her weakened mind was trying to rationalize what wasn't true and see what wasn't there?
When she extended her magic's reach even further down, however, Luna's heart skipped. Deeper beneath the moon's cold surface, she felt something rather familiar to her—something that felt wildly out of place on this barren planet. It was Equestrian magic, its warm energy unmistakable to the starving alicorn. Luna's eyes widened in disbelief. How in Equestria was this possible? Why was there magic flowing beneath the moon's soil, seemingly hidden right under her nose? Luna's head was filled with questions that needed answers, but they were set aside, knowing she had more immediate concerns that needed tending.
Urgently, the weary princess began to tug and pull at the subterranean magic with her magical grasp. She had some difficulty at first; she had never experienced draining magic like this before. Nevertheless, her hunger for magic proved to be an ample motivator, and the mare eventually figured it out with trial and error by modifying the spells she knew. Pulling on as much magic as she could through her horn, she greedily drank in to replenish her reserves. Luna was impatient, and rightfully so given her situation. Still, the moon's wellspring of magic was faint yet stable—a slowly flowing stream of magic that was weak but continuous. As much as she was eager to drain as fast as she could, it forced her to gradually take small amounts, letting the exhausted pony slowly yet safely nourish itself.
It took a long time for her to get her fill, but when she was done taking in as much magic as she could, Luna began to feel better despite her injuries. With ample magic coursing through her body, Luna renewed her breathing spell, closed her eyes, and began to take long, deep breaths. She knew that with composure came control, and with it, came strength. With each slow inhale and exhale through her nose, she felt her mind clear. The lingering tightness in her chest melted away, and her pain became more manageable. Her body felt much lighter as her muscles relaxed, and her mane had been restored to its glimmering, flowing state. Soon, the dying ember within her reignited, and her inner flame was fueled back into a blazing bonfire.
Satisfied and rejuvenated, Luna's meditation had come to an end. When her eyes opened back up, she was again met with her magical construct floating in front of her, which had been watching her all this time out of concern. The edges of Luna's lips curled up slightly.
"Well, don't I feel like a fool?"
Tantabus, happy to see her recovery, replied by wiggling its round ethereal body. Seeing its playful response, a smile blossomed across Luna's face.
"Come here, you."
Luna beckoned for her ball of shadow to come closer, and gently wrapped her foreleg around it, pulling it closer to her chest. She squeezed its cool, gaseous form tight, which Tantabus was more than happy to oblige.
"I almost lost hope back there. I'm just glad that you were there to stop me." Luna murmured to her magical companion, nestled in her embrace. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you. Not to mention that I... shouldn't have dismissed your words like that. You've put so much faith in me to help me with my struggles. It's only right that I trust you back."
Despite the warmth of Luna's hug, Tantabus shivered.
"No?" Knowing her creation's mannerisms, Luna knew that Tantabus meant to tell her something else. "You... don't want me to have faith in you?"
Tantabus shivered again.
"Playing guessing games, are we?" Staring at the dark blue and purple blob she was hugging, Luna pondered for a bit. If she wanted the answer right away, she could connect to Tantabus and get a more straightforward answer. For now, though, she wasn't bothered by it. After a momentary contemplation, she grinned as she figured out the answer.
"I get it. You also want me not to lose faith in myself, right?"
Tantabus wiggled happily.
"Even for a quiet creature, you always know just what to say."
With a happy sigh, she scooped up her ball of shadow magic with her hoof, brought it to her face, and nuzzled it affectionately. Playful as ever, Tantabus responded by tickling her snout back with its ethereal body before gently hopping on top of Luna's head.
"Luna."
"What is it, Tantabus?"
"Fight."
A chuckle escaped between Luna's lips after she heard that persistent request repeated. This time, however, she knew that her companion made perfect sense. She just couldn't see it before.
"Yes, Tantabus. Fight." Luna looked up above her, countless stars marking the dark vastness of the aether. Her eyes, however, sparkled brighter than any of them. Resolute and steadfast did she and her creation gazed upon their home, the distant green and blue planet floating so far away.
"Till my hooves break and my wings are maimed,"
"Till my horn cracks and I breathe my last breath,"
"I pray that my resolve will hold, and with it, I will fight."
Luna spoke solemnly, her voice echoing with a determination that resonated through the starlit expanse.
"Now I ask of you again, Tantabus. Would you help me with my struggles, and fight alongside in my battles?"
"Always."
At her stalwart companion's prompt response, a rush of warmth and appreciation washed over her.
"Then fight we shall, Tantabus." Luna declared with an unwavering resolve.
"We'll fight on as long as we are needed."