Looking down at Equestria from the Celestial Garden far above, I saw a young unicorn colt lost amongst the dimly lit depths of Liberty Woods. He walked carefully through the undergrowth, but often found himself stumbling against wayward roots and weeds. His horn could barely light the ground around his hooves. I sensed his fear, so deep and so fierce. What kind of a being would I have been to leave the poor colt in the dark? I smiled and willed my light to shine upon his path. It would show him the way home.
The little one was quick to notice, and even quicker to look up at me. “Thanks, Moon!” his smile sang. Reassured by my glow, he took off at a trot which soon became a bouncy frolic. After hastening through the brightened forest for a few minutes, he was soon safe and sound in his mother’s caring embrace. I dimmed the sliver of my glow destined to brighten his bedroom, leaving just enough to banish the colt’s fears and lull him to sleep.
Secure in the knowledge that my light was now properly cast all over Equestria, I elected to see how my little siblings were doing. I closed my eyes to the world of the Little Ponies, turning my sights back to the Celestial Garden. Unlike the Little Ponies’ Equestria, the Garden had very little in the way of green. Rather, leaves and grass alike painted a landscape of deep blues, while white flowers sparkled life into the horizon. Smooth, rolling hills stretched into the distance, sprinkled with trees and flower patches. The gentle breeze blew ripples in the grass, and rang each tree like a quiet, rustling chime.
A stream of clear water burbled peacefully as it flowed through the heart of our land. It was the center of the world for us ponies of the Garden, a perfect place to drink, groom oneself, or play. All night long, stars would congregate near it as they played or applied themselves to their duties.
Above the Garden, there was magic. Where the Little Ponies had us, Moon, Sun, and the stars, we had the waves of endless essence that bathed the Garden with majestic light. Every now and then, a sparkle would fly down from it and vanish, called forth by a unicorn casting a particularly potent spell. The wild, untamed magic flowed slowly and unpredictably, decorating the infinite horizons above with auroras drawing from every point of the spectrum.
Tearing my eyes away from the scenery, I began my inspection. To my great pride, the stars were diligent in their tasks as they were every night. Mother would be happy to find out when she returned at the end of the night.
I was startled when, on my way to the hill of the Artisans, a sparkling new wish burst into existence at my hooves. The tiny sphere of light drifted, tracing a groove through the lush grass as it wandered about. Intrigued, I lowered my ear to the wisp and listened to the soft whispers emanating from its heart.
I wish daddy would come home soon... I miss him.
It was the colt I had guided home just a moment ago, the poor darling. To miss one’s parent must have been a terrible burden to bear. I dreaded the very idea of it as I recalled Mother’s kind smiles and soothing voice. I would make sure his wish was treated with the same minutious care every last one of its brethren received.
However, as with any other wish, there was little even we could do to make the colt’s desire come to fruition. Instead, the stars would offer him the garden’s greatest gift: hope.
Pollux, one of my youngest siblings, came trotting by, no doubt in search of one such wisp of desire. I smiled and nudged the wish in his direction with the tip of my muzzle. His black eyes, glittering with the innate magic of the stars, lit up at the sight. He pounced upon the wisp immediately. Stomping his hoof next to the orb of white light, Pollux caused it to leap up into the air and follow his guidance.
As one of the Sentinels, Pollux did not have the gift of flight of the Messengers nor the magical horns of the Artisans. In compensation, he and his brethren possessed talents of their own: strong legs to run about the Garden all night long and sharp eyes to find even the best-hidden wishes.
“Thank you, Sister!” Pollux gave me a wide grin. I brought my head down to his height and nudged a wayward strand of his white mane out of his eyes before planting an affectionate little peck upon his equally white forehead. To my amusement, he pulled away, wiping my kiss off of his face. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Stepping aside, I set Pollux on his way with a playful swat to his side. “Now then, you’d best get going. We wouldn’t want to keep this Little Pony waiting, would we?”
“Right on it, Sister!” He took off at a gallop, throwing the garden’s deep blue grass and white flowers about with every stride. The wish followed him obediently, flittering through the air. He soon stopped in the shade of a nearby tree, where a pair of Messengers had been waiting. The two, Vega and Altair, were cheerfully chattering about wishes they had carried earlier that night.
I watched as Pollux caught the fluttering wisp between his hooves with great care and presented it to the duo. They both stood up and spread out their wings. They stared at the increasingly hesitant Pollux, each taking a tentative step towards him in turn, all but ordering him to give them the wish. Seeing Pollux slowly edge away, I judged it best to take the issue into my own hooves.
In a burst of magic, I teleported to the small group of stars. “Now, now, there’s no need for a standoff,” I admonished. “Altair, I believe you were flying a wish around just an instant ago, is that right? Don’t you think it would be fair for Vega to get a turn?”
Altair hesitated for a moment, then nodded in disappointed approval.
“Oh, Altair, don’t worry your little hooves off,” I teased, ruffling his mane. “There will be plenty more wishes for you to guide tonight.”
As Altair hesitantly cracked a smile, Vega took the wish from Pollux and took off into the Garden’s sky with a flutter of her wings. The wish trailed behind her as she sped across the sky and led it to the Artisans. Her white coat and mane, much like every other star’s, glittered under the sky’s light as she sped towards a distant hill.
I turned my attention back to Pollux and Altair, offering them a smile. “You two be good now. Remember, I’m never too far if there’s a problem. I’m going to go check on the Artisans, if that’s okay with you.”
“Okay! See you later, Moon,” the two answered as one, waving as I unfurled my own wings and set off for the Artisans’ hill. I could pick up a few snippets of their conversation as I departed: Altair was listening quite attentively as Pollux spoke of the young colt awaiting his father’s return.
I followed Vega’s trajectory as she swooped by Rigel and Procyon, who were distracted with trying to coax a particularly timid wish out of a bush’s deep leaves. Giggling, she swatted the two Sentinels on their shining star cutie marks. Under the sting of the impact, a trace of pink appeared on their periwinkle-spotted flanks. They glared, first at each other, then up at Vega. Comprehension slowly drew itself on their faces, and they chuckled as she flew away. Hearing the two plotting their own mischievous revenge on Vega’s flank, I mentally ruled that neither party needed to be called to order. Such mischievous games made everyone involved happier in the end; it was the more venomous disputes I had to keep an eye on.
Vega alighted by one of her older siblings, Polaris. The Artisan was absentmindedly watching another wish flitter around himself. Polaris’s wish was far brighter than the one Vega had been guiding, a sign that the Artisan’s work was complete. Neither of them noticed my presence nearby. I did not wish to distract them from their work.
Polaris greeted Vega with a smile, and the Messenger gently caught the Little Pony’s wish between her hooves, careful not to damage it as she presented it to her older sister. In turn, the latter nudged her fuller wisp over to her, and the two wishes traded places.
Polaris touched her horn to the new wisp, closing her eyes and focusing. Soon, both her horn and the wisp pulsed with a gentle light. Thus was the task of the Artisans, the oldest of my younger siblings: to give the wishes of the Little Ponies the form and power they needed to bloom into full-fledged dreams filled with hope. This closer bond with the Little Ponies had also earned the Artisans their peculiar cutie marks. While the Sentinels bore depictions of bright, sparkling stars, and the Messengers’ marks depicted shooting stars, the Artisans’ flanks bore something far more unusual: constellations.
These constellations have always been a point of curiosity for us ponies of the Celestial Garden. Mother Luna once told me they are patterns invented by the Little Ponies which connect my younger siblings’ sparkling into meaningful images. Such a capacity for creativity leaves me forever astonished.
While Polaris worked on filling the new wish with the essence of hope and dreams, Vega took off with the completed wish and brought it up into the sky. There, she cupped her hooves beneath it, and threw it as high as she could with a powerful flick of her forelegs. The wish rocketed into the sky with a bright, sparkling light, showering the garden with the marvelous glitter of another successfully created dream. Curious, I followed the wish’s essence to its destination as it traveled down to the world of the Little Ponies. There, time had only moved by a fraction of an instant.
In a cozy cobblestone house not too far from the Palace of the Alicorn Sisters, I sensed a young filly smiling in her sleep. It was her way of thanking us for answering her wish with the sweetest of reveries.
I smiled at the sight of the Little Pony slumbering under my light. “Sleep well, little one. May your dreams be peaceful and full of joy.”
We followed our routine through the night. As the morning came, my brother’s light began to blossom over the Garden. I suppressed a yawn as the soothing darkness of the land’s scenery gave way to a cheerful luminescence. It wasn’t a bothersome feeling, but I favored the night’s calm dimness.
“Good morning, brother,” I greeted Sun’s slumbering form. His eyes slowly crept open. To my great amusement, they focused on the tip of his horn for an instant. He closed them again and shook his head, forcing away the haze of sleep.
My golden oaf of an older brother rose to his hooves with a deep, cavernous yawn and stretched away the last few hints of sleep lingering in his body. “The same to you, Sister,” he replied, moving a wayward strand of his incandescent mane out of his eyes with a flick of his neck. “How was your night?”
I sat by Sun, drawing him into an affectionate hug. “It has been wonderful, just like every night.”
I found myself enveloped by one of his large wings and basking in his comfortable warmth. The strain of the long hours of watch weighed heavily on my shoulders. I nestled into Sun’s side and struggled to resist sleep.
“Have our mothers come yet?” Sun questioned, glancing around and absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck.
I shook my head. “They have not, and though I am as eager as the stars to see my mother this morning, there is something I wish to discuss with you before she arrives.”
My brother’s ears perked up. “Oh? Please do tell,” he said. “You know I am always happy to hear you out.”
“Mother Luna seems so troubled lately. I believe she is doing her best not to show it, but the way she looks at you and Aunt Celestia sometimes...” I looked up at my brother, silently asking for his thoughts.
Sun looked to the sky as he pondered the issue. “I cannot say I’ve noticed anything of the sort, Sister, but I could easily have missed it.”
I laid my head against his chest for a moment, until I was struck with a shocking thought. I covered my mouth with a forehoof, frightened by the possibility. “You don’t think Mother could be... jealous, do you?”
Sun shook his head. “I cannot fathom why Aunt Luna would be jealous of my mother. She has you and all the stars, and the Little Ponies love your nights just as they love my days.”
“I hope you are right, brother. I hope it is so. Still, I cannot help but wonder: What if she had been? What would it mean for the night to be jealous of the day? Would the Little Ponies be affected? What of us? What of the stars?” I clung even tighter to Sun, frightened by these uncomfortable thoughts.
Sun gave a soft smile and rested his chin atop my head before wrapping a foreleg around my withers. “And what if you were overreacting, Sister?”
I took a deep breath and nodded, slipping away from my brother’s grasp. “Perhaps you are right, Brother.”
“I am glad I could reassure you,” Sun answered while releasing me from his embrace. “Oh!” His eyes widened. “It’s just about time for me to go up, our mothers will be here very soon, and I haven’t made myself presentable. Shall we meet again in the evening?”
“With pleasure. I should freshen up as well,” I replied, embracing my brother before cantering off towards the stream. “Have a nice day, brother!” I called out.
“Sleep well, Moon,” he replied with the most perfect of smiles.
Sun’s right, I told myself as I splashed some water against my face. Mother wouldn’t be jealous of Aunt Celestia. They’re sisters and they rule together. What would she have to be jealous of? The Little Ponies adore our night sky.
I gazed at my reflection, ensuring that I looked my best for Mother. My mane flowed gently, soft and smooth, offering that spectacle of silvery dust I like so much. I caught sight of a speck of dirt near the tip of my horn and wiped it off. My pearly coat looked impeccable.
My eyes stopped on my reflection’s cutie mark. Spying the image of a bright crescent embracing three stars within its concavity, I smiled as I recalled my precious little siblings. She loves them so much. It is inconceivable that Mother could be jealous.
Still, as I set off to meet Mother, I couldn’t help but feel a nagging doubt.
I quickly made my way to the usual meeting point, only to find that Mother was nowhere to be found. I questioned for a moment whether or not it might have been earlier than I suspected, but I knew that was not a possibility. Perhaps she was feeling off and had requested that her sister help us tonight? It would not have been the first time either of them would do such a thing. On second thought, however, had she been asked to help with the stars, Aunt Celestia would already have let me know. I assumed Mother was simply late, so I returned to the stream and began rounding up the stars so that we would be ready for her arrival.
I took to the sky as was usual. The Garden was slowly reinventing itself with the brighter colors of the morning light. Its deep blues gradually brightened to cyans and celestes. Down in the valley, I saw the stars winding down from a long night and enjoying some last moments of happy frolicking before settling down to sleep the day away. Some of my younger siblings already snoozed, huddled together in the shadows of a leafy thicket.
A few stray Messengers were still chasing one another and giggling. I led them back to the thicket from high up, simultaneously whistling for the last few ground-bound stars to follow us back. I had to chase down a duo of particularly rambunctious Sentinels, hoisting one on my back and dragging the other one back in my magical hold. Thankfully, the Artisans, who exerted themselves the most during the night, had decided against pushing their limits.
I sat amongst the sleepy foals, and the many of them huddled against us and one another. Mother had still not arrived, but I didn’t want them to worry just before they went to sleep. “It seems Mother will be a little late, so I want you to be especially well-behaved tonight. Can you do that for me?” I smiled.
Most of the stars nodded, some of them yawning. A few of the more energetic stars bounced up, grinning. “Yes, Sister!” they said in unison.
“Now then, would anyone like to tell me about the interesting wishes we received today?”
A wave of excitement coursed through the stars as all but a few rose up, eager to tell of what they had heard, relayed, or answered today. To care for the Little Ponies and their wishes was their favorite pastime.
I had the stars take turns telling me what they had heard. Fillies and colts were, as always, in want of pretty dolls and toys, and the adults desired naught but for their lands to be fertile, their skies to be clear, and their crafts to be prosperous. However, two particular wishes had stood out tonight: A stallion known as Lord Serenade and his lover, Lady Tryst, had each wished for their families to at last allow their romance. They would find each other through the haze of sleep and perhaps, in their dreams, the solution would come to them.
I bent down to the foals’ height. “I am very proud of you, my little ones,” I praised, ruffling a young Sentinel’s mane. The stars beamed at the compliment. “I think you’ve deserved a nice long rest, would you not agree? I’m sure Mother will be here very soon.”
They wordlessly agreed, snuggling with their closest friends for warmth and comfort.
“Moon?” one Sentinel filly asked. “Would you sing us mommy’s lullaby?”
I rose up from my haunches, careful not to disturb the foals. It was a heartwarming sight seeing them ready to sleep, snuggled up against one another. I knew the stars would be tired if they didn’t go to sleep soon, but Mother was still missing. I bit my bottom lip for a moment, unsure.
“Please?” a Messenger colt added. There was no way I could resist the little ones. Despite Mother’s absence, we simply couldn’t have the stars stay up, lest they be too tired to shine as tomorrow evening came.
“Very well, young ones, settle down.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It simply wouldn’t be the same without Mother, but I knew the lullaby was something the stars could not go without. I began the song in the most soothing voice I could muster.
O star, shining star
'Tis one more night of labor fair
O star, shining star
So many dreams to share
As I sang, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Without Mother’s confident yet calming tones, the song felt incomplete. I could see worry trace itself on the stars’ visages.
Sister will be here for you
Standing, watchful, at your side
Mother will be watching too
Her heart full of pride
At least, the Garden still joined in the music, rustling and splashing in rhythm. I paced softly amongst the stars as I sang. Following the lullaby song, the trees of the thicket spread and lowered their foliage so as to shield the young ones from the day’s light. One by one, I gave each foal a hug or a nuzzle, and each answered with an innocent smile.
O star, shining star
Thy work is done, thy ponies blessed
O star, shining star
'Tis time for you to rest
The Garden fell quiet around us as I reached the end of the song. The stars stopped stirring, leaving only the sound of their peaceful breathing and the gentle rustling of leaves to be heard. I gave the Garden a final once over, hoping that perhaps Mother had since arrived. Sadly, it was not so.
“I regret saying it, little ones, but I think we will have to sleep without Mother tonight. It is very late, and you need your rest.”
“Now, now,” a familiar voice rang out before the stars had a chance to react. “Daughter, I must insist, let us not be so hasty.” Mother’s voice. I heard it, and yet I heard another. It felt wrong. It felt vile. It felt like a cruel caricature. A dark silhouette rose atop a hill, far too large for the being it claimed to be. “I have seen all of my children working hard today, and it made me very proud.”
Many of the stars slowly edged away in fright, while others cowered in fear and hid behind me. Unnerved, I may have taken a few steps back myself.
“Please, children, do not be frightened. Good colts and fillies like you deserve a very special treat... How would my precious little ones like to stay up later tonight?”