//------------------------------//
// Chapter LXXXVIII – Primal Principles 
// Story: Journey with a Batpony 
// by Gulheru 
//------------------------------//

The sky was calm and beautiful that night, regardless of one’s personal stance on the matter of the hours of darkness. Especially since, though they were poetically called as such, they had little to do with wickedness and iniquity.

The night was a majestic and proud realm, which had its place in the world, existing among, between and with the manifold stars and the bright, glorious Moon. The very same one which was traversing on, slowly and elegantly, across the expanse of the cosmos. Without haste, without impatience, rightly proud of its quiet dignity whilst shedding the brilliant, argent illumination upon the land below. Currently, that meant a domain covered in sprawling treetops, eager to receive their mystical blessings from above.

To tell the truth, Luna envied the silver discus its loftiness, as her own mood was definitely less serene than that of the Moon above. The flight to the wild expanse of the Eastern Woods had done little to tire out her anger, and the constantly roiling and shifting thoughts had actually infused her with more unease for the upcoming task. However, even if the thoughts of backing off and returning to Canterlot had invaded her brain a couple of times, she wouldn’t resign from this mission. Staying on her course was still all the more enervating, she had to admit.

Thankfully, she could perfectly recall why she was here, above the great woodland. She had a good reason for this journey, despite undertaking it right after another adventure, one that was still oh so very fresh in her thoughts, and one that had taken a toll on her, both in mind and body.

And yet this was not the right time to rest and recuperate, as inaction had already cost Luna dearly. Her beloved pony had suffered, and whether she was solely responsible for it or merely was one of the contributing factors to Moonwarden’s misfortune was irrelevant. She had made a mistake, and this was her chance to fix it, to make the choice to began improving things around her, even if by just one trot at a time.

Having made it to the edge of the timberland, Luna extinguished the aura of her magic, deciding to rely on her own wings to carry her on. She wouldn’t want to spawn too much attention, at least not without proper forethought and timing. And, truth be told, she had to formulate a more concrete plan at this point. After all, she didn’t really know the timing or the routes of the local patrols, as the only insight she had were Moonwarden’s instructions from the first time they had visited, and the memory of the batpony map, which had showed the hidden town underneath this sprawling weald. Not to mention that Luna was hoping to find one, particular pony…

Perhaps Fate would bless her with some luck, especially after she would help it a little bit.

She first decided to utilize her magic in a slightly different way. Yes, she had granted herself greater swiftness while soaring in the night’s sky, but Luna prided herself on many other, clandestine abilities. While disguising herself, like in the train to Hollow Shades, would not serve its purpose here, she could use the same premise to clad herself in her rich, cobalt aura, which would allow her coat to take on the night’s very aspect. It would make her silhouette blend the more easily with the sky above, a small enchantment which would serve a greater purpose. Anypony looking up would spot only a faint shimmer against the darkness and the stars, and would have to look very hard to make out Luna’s actual presence. With such a disguise, but one of night’s many gifts, she could do a little scouting first, before making proper contact with her quarry.

That... was a strange word to use, but Luna didn’t feel bad about it. Things had progressed to the point where she would have to play a rough, but necessary part, and she had promised herself that she would utilize the feelings inside her to the best of her abilities.

Nothing helped in a hunt than a touch of vexation.

The village of Hollow Shades was hidden well in the heart of the vast forest. Yes, there was an access to it via a train, reaching its last stop in this particular direction, but even the straight line of the tracks was hard to spot between the thick canopies of the Eastern Woods. Forests, after all, could be tamed by pony abilities and perseverance, but they never fully cowed, remaining true to their wild heritage. And this thicket wished to stick ever closer to its primal nature. The local ponies understood that, Luna deemed, as their dwellings played into the landscape, showing enough respect to the omnipresent wilderness, one which provided its dangers, but also shelter and livelihood to the population.

Luna entertained that thought for a little longer. All these centuries ago, this had to have been the exact same approach, the same philosophy that her children had held when they had made their dwellings underneath these wealds, calling the region their home, their Shades’ Hollow. They, too, must have showed proper respect for their surroundings from their underground town, dealing with roots and rhizomes in a way not to hurt the forest above, giving them shelter from sunlight and other elements. 

Respect had to be shown, towards the land and the forest, the flora and the fauna, and Luna found that thought strangely… disturbing. That wasn’t the first feeling which she was expecting to linger on after this particular realization. But, for a brief, inexplicable moment, like when one spots a wry smile from a stranger, Luna felt deference towards the woods, which had come to her from a very, very dark place.

She shook her head, dispelling that sensation just like one would get rid of an annoying, returning thought, and focused on the present.

Her children had claimed this region for themselves once, so Luna decided to try her luck in a logical place – one of the entrances to the ancient, underground complex which had suffered a cruel fate at the hooves of ‘uncle’ Radiant Glory. That meant the current tower of the Nightguard, which, as it had been deduced, served not only as an outpost for the elite force, but marked an access point underneath.

It stood in the midst of the trees, a symbol of both the ancient claim and modern authority, protruding like a monument of perseverance and defiance. For the right and perhaps the wrong reasons. Even from this distance Luna could spot that it was big enough for the top to be used for landing purposes... and that there were ponies standing on it.

Two Nightguardians, she was fairly sure. The figures were by one another, seemingly looking into the distance, perhaps keeping watch for incoming threats. Luna’s course meant that they didn’t have a chance to spot her at the moment, but she wasn’t keen on giving them any opportunity at all, even with her magic at play. She had to quickly decide on what to do, as she wasn’t keen on dealing with any other ponies but the Captain herself. It was her that Luna needed to interrogate over the latest happenings, and a one on one meeting was crucial.

Lowering her flight and steadying the approach, she kept a watchful eye on the sentries… and soon found out that luck greatly favored her. It was Sunfall Ordain who was securing the tower’s ramparts, alongside another mare. And…

And it quickly became clear that none of them would be able to spot Luna, even if she were to dive down straight at the two.

She actually felt her cheeks warming up a little bit, since her keen sight had, indeed, allowed her to spot that the Captain was enjoying a little moment of intimate closeness with the other Nightguardian, a mare of maroon mane which was quite well imitating wild brambles. The eyes of the pair were closed to the world around, their lips engaged in a quite fierce exchange of kisses.

If there was one thing that Luna didn’t feel like interrupting, it was a display of budding passion between two ponies. No, that definitely wasn’t a situation she would like to barge in on, in any way, shape or form, as she, well… She didn’t find it comfortable to deal with. Truth be told, she felt herself being rather distant from strong expressions of physical affection in general.

A-actually, she had never been one for any overt flaunting of emotions. Her long years of solitude had only made her consider these things with more discomfort, obviously.

Or… Or perhaps she was simply unwilling to address what emotions this scene was making her feel. She could have sworn that, the moment she had realized what the two mares were doing, she had found herself staring. But not at them, no. Her mind had presented before her, on a silver platter, a slightly altered image, containing her and a certain, grey pony, and she couldn’t quite place the feelings it was causing her.

Longing? Desire? Hope?

And wrath?

Luna wasn’t going to pay more attention to that moment of closeness, as it was proving a bit challenging. And she wasn’t going to be intrusive or unkind, even with the task awaiting her, no. Lamentably, however, this was quite likely her one and very best chance at actually conversing with Sunfall Ordain, as soon as that other mare would be gone. So Luna decided to do the one thing the bubbling emotions would still allow her to do.

She could wait a moment, and see how things would unfold.

Luna lowered her altitude, so that her approach to the tower would bring her just below the top level. Gliding without one movement of her wings, she made her way to the side of the structure, stopping to find purchase against the wall. She wasn’t unlike a nocturnal bird or a bat, finding a little respite after a long flight, gracefully pressed up against the dark stone of the tower. Luna didn’t feel like she particularly needed a rest, but she didn’t mind taking a breather after all. She would have her role to play, very soon, and it would demand of her. It was better to gather one’s thoughts, calm one’s breath and mind.

Thankfully, she would get her chance to do just that, as the mares above took their time, drinking deeply from their moment of closeness. A few minutes had to pass before any of them spoke, and even those words were exhaled in a pleasurable, ever so warbled way.

“Does… Does that conclude your… your report, bat-handler Cranberry?” came the panting question, trying its hardest to sound professional, but failing very much on purpose.

“Not… even a little, Captain, ma’am,” came a cheeky response, followed by a giggle from both of the mares, “but I know you want to pretend that you’re reasonable, so I’ll play along and stop for the moment…”

“ ‘Pretend that I’m reasonable’?” Sunfall Ordain asked, and Luna could practically hear one of her eyebrows being cocked. “Is that still how you see myself wanting to be a proper commanding officer? A mere pretense?”

“Yes. Especially when you want to be a ‘proper commanding officer’ in moments like these…” the other mare, Cranberry, deemed, and must have followed her sentence with a kiss or another caress, considering the coo which came out of the other mare’s throat. “ ‘Pretending’ is the most you can try and do with me around, dearheart…”

“I… I did warn you what can happen for undue fraternization…”

“We both know it’s not ‘undue’ if we both are looking forward to it, very much…” came another, teasing reply. And it was accompanied by a swoosh of the tail, which might or might not have suggested that Cranberry just playfully swatted at the Captain. “Would you really want to… punish me, ma’am? I suppose if you want to get your hooves on me that badly…”

“… alright, stop, that’s too much,” was the response, followed by more, sweet laughter from the two. “Now git, you. The bats must be starving and you still have to clean the easte—”

Another pause, most likely caused by a swift, forcible kiss.

“Yes, darling,” Cranberry’s mocking response followed, sounding much more like addressed to a partner than a superior. “I promise to be thorough and quick. I think I feel like pestering you a bit more before sunrise, my sweet.”

“Fine, fine…”

Was it Luna, or was there something wrong with that response? It almost felt like a sigh, though it was hard to tell the reason for it. There were a lot of genuine emotions in the mare’s voices, but this felt almost like… begrudging acceptance? It didn’t feel right. But it didn’t seem like the very proposition was unwelcome, but rather… the time?

Cranberry also felt it all, apparently. Her voice, as she spoke up once more, lost a lot of its loving luster, so much so that it caused a small shiver down Luna’s spine as she found herself, sadly, eavesdropping with curiosity.

“Dearheart, are you…? Oh. Oh, yes, I should have guessed, you are going to do your—”

“Please, Cranberry,” was the Captain’s reply, this time very much direct and transparent. “Don’t fret, please. This isn’t about… this. I just believe that I should feel the sting of the lash. I have… things to reconsider.”

There was a moment of tense silence which Luna could detect even from behind the cold, unfeeling stone above her. She was about to start asking herself what the lash was about, feeling like she was missing some context, but a long sigh, one that turned into a hiss, reached her ears.

“Are you sure this isn’t because of us?” came the question from the maroon-maned mare. “I find you very often turning to this little rite of yours after we—”

“No,” was the near-immediate and defiantly strong response. “First of all, the morn of suffering is no ‘little rite’, it’s a part of my Family’s culture. Though I accept that it is viewed… unfavorably,” came the correction, followed by sentences which were much more caring, if no less powerful. “And don’t ever think, my Cranberry, that I am constantly repenting for caring for you. Yes, I would hope for different circumstances, as we are in one unit and we are in the same chain of command, and you know how I feel about that. But I don’t feel licentious for having you in my life, not even a little.”

Another moment of silence arrived, interrupted only by a call of some nocturnal bird, making its way above the rich canopy. It’s screech felt almost like a warning, or a bad omen. Perhaps it was that which caused Cranberry’s next sentence to come in that caring, yet sorrowful tone.

“I trust you when you say that. Or I try to, I just…” There was a pause, pregnant with disquietude. “I wish you would just… let this be.”

“Let th—”

“Let me speak. I love you, you love me, that seems to be the case, right? Well… I would like for this to be just the case, dearheart. But… it’s not. Not for you.” A moment to take one’s breath followed, letting them both consider what was being said. “It’s not that I blame you, or… or I try not to. But you have things to prove, that’s clear. You have your role to fulfill, and you’re doing it splendidly, in those nice, established boundaries. The Captain of the Nightguard – oh, you deserve all the praise for how your performance is, if you care to hear these words from a… a subordinate.”

“Cranberry, you’re more th—”

“I’m not finished,” was the sharper, biting interruption. “But this… You…! You put up these walls in your own mind and heart. You sometimes peak around, like some unruly foal, but then you need to get right back behind them. You need to get back to being a perfect officer. And I wish…” This time the pause was caused by emotions, likely manifesting in tears, considering the mare’s tone. “I wish you would just accept that this is something more. More than just us being ‘unreasonable’ as two Nightguardians, more than just a… a… a breach of conduct to be remedied immediately afterwards, before it oh just happens once more. That it is worth more, worth to be more than just ‘something that shouldn’t be’. That this isn’t simply a dream we both happen to fall into from time to time, or… or a fantasy that we sometimes just foolishly act upon!”

“It is more, Cranberry! It is!”

“I hope it is. That’s what I cling to, Sunfall Ordain…” the mare’s voice was almost pleading, but what followed was a firm and vigorous trot that sounded like it began descending into the tower.

Luna… remained were she was for a good while. Yes, she felt very out of her depth with a situation like this, not that she would want to intrude upon that topic, to stumble her way through some form of an encouragement. That felt like a recipe for disaster, regardless of the natural instinct to help, aid and guide. However, in the distraught sentences of the Nightguardian, she had heard something eerily familiar. There were words there, sentences and sentiments that she could, herself, relate to, and that simple fact astounded her.

Moonwarden. Moonwarden did see his affection for her as something unreasonable, something that breached rules and conventions, something that was a fantasy and an unthinkable dream. He had made that clear enough in their recent, mental conversation. As opposed to what the two mares were talking about, he viewed himself as inferior, greatly inferior, by the sheer fact that he was a mere unicorn, holding affection for a royal alicorn. His love, as he saw it, was not supposed to be at all, was a fantasy that he had been fighting, even if allowing himself those small gestures and words of affection. And yet it was like… like a safety valve, if Luna understood that concept which had arrived in Equestria during her absence. Something to deal with too much building pressure, to balance it out back to the norm. Yet the norm was… nothing, it meant a total lack of this ‘forbidden’ feeling between the two of them.

And so Luna did feel this familiar connection with Cranberry and her statements, to the point that it made her feel uncomfortable, dispirited… and angry.

As that one moment of consideration had passed by, Luna shook in fear. Captain Sunfall Ordain could have already left the top of the tower and followed the other mare, perhaps trying to explain matters and make the situation better. However, there were sounds coming from above Luna’s perching point. Those of deep, shaky breathing, and even a hit of an armored hoof against the stoic stone. The mare must have leaned right against the rampart, trying to combat a surge of emotions, contain herself while processing what she had just heard. Luna could swear that she could see a tear running down the side of the cold, unfeeling rock.

The mare above finally let out a grand sigh and spoke up, most likely to the dark sky above… or, rather, the vigilant and stoic Moon, continuing on its majestic voyage.

“Immaculate Moon… Our Mother, why… why are those things always so complicated?”

Luna could ask the exact same thing, actually.

And if only she could grant Sunfall Ordain an answer, any answer. For the moment, however, she was dealing with the matter of love’s meanders herself. And, worse yet, what she had arrived to achieve had nothing in common with sympathizing and encouragement. She pondered for a breath, thinking on what had to be done, and arriving at a thought that held in itself some strange, universal truth, perhaps. Or, maybe, was just a manifestation of her low spirits at that very moment.

Sometimes prayers were left unanswered very much on purpose.

Luna took a deep breath.

Her appearance would certainly cause a reaction, but she… she wasn’t going to be a goddess coming to explain matters to a lost faithful, not that time. And so she had to brace herself, as she was certain that things would not go as planned. They already had done so, as at no point had Luna anticipated listening in to such a deep, meaningful conversation between two mares in love. What was going to happen further into this… this visitation was going to certainly be even more unpredictable. After all, there was no telling how would Sunfall Ordain react to the questions, and what was her stance on Moonwarden’s state. 

The image of him, barely alive in the hospital bed, roused Luna’s feelings. Despite what other emotions were trying to hold sway over her, anger was the most prevalent one. Somepony was responsible, somepony who possessed the physical traits of her children, and she was going to get to the bottom of this, despite everything.

Here went nothing… and everything, indeed.

Luna let go of the tower’s side, allowing her wings to smoothly spread and lift her up. At the same time as she began moving, she also summoned the power of her nocturnal magic. She gave up any residual camouflage, took the same energy she was holding and transformed it, weaved it in a different way, for the sake of majesty. She wanted to look just like she had appeared the first time, perhaps a little more fiercely as well. She needed to be cloaked in the divine might, or what would be perceived as that.

And a second later, when she knew she had reached that goal, she stoically ascended. Her wings beat in steady motions, soon causing her horn to appear over the ramparts, infused with cobalt power, both maintaining it and benefiting from it. Luna’s billowing mane followed, resembling a wide, agitated nebula, shining from the far corners of the cosmos with strange light and yet stranger determination. Finally, Luna’s own gaze reached the top of the tower once more, this time filled with might and majesty, and she could witness Captain Sunfall Ordain looking up at her.

The mare’s eyes were bulging and her mouth hung agape, as she was trying to grasp and understand that the Goddess, the Immaculate Moon, was a far closer recipient of her prayers than the batpony had thought. And that the Holy Mother of her kin came to see her in person, once more. To the Captain’s credit, she understood what was happening in record time, as she swiftly fell down to her knees, seemingly without hurting herself with how firmly she prostrated herself against the tower’s stone. She didn’t dare to lift her eyes up at all, but her voice reached Luna’s ears, abundant in pious fear.

“O Goddess! You…! I…!” Sunfall Ordain began by trying to make a coherent sentence, failing at first, but soon finding the right words that she wanted to use. “I’m here, O Mother. Speak, for I listen.”

That was possibly the very best that the mare’s frightened mind could come up with, but Luna accepted it as a most proper gesture of submission before the divine, as she had heard almost that exact sentence from the mare before. Not that she wanted to take some vainglorious pleasure from it, but she could at least respect Sunfall Ordain’s deep-seated piety and immediate readiness to accept a deity’s wisdom and guidance.

Luna wasn’t sure if she was ready and willing to grant that, however. She felt too imbalanced to impart direction. She was hoping to receive one herself, after all, one that would help her in her quest.

“Look upon me, Captain Sunfall Ordain,” she commanded, and the officer hesitated only out of awe, soon meeting Luna’s gaze. She must have read something out of it, indeed, for her whole body shivered soon after. “I come to you, once again. As to what my visit shall bring to you, that we shall soon both learn.”

Nopony in their right, dedicated mind would take that as a good sentence, and neither did Sunfall Ordain judge it as such. Her lower lip had shuddered briefly before she found her words.

“O Goddess, Immaculate Moon… I-I am unworthy of your attention, but if… if you found it right to lower yourself and meet me once again, I shall be of any service to you I can.”

Luna hoped this eagerness was coming from a pure heart and not deceitful intention. Unfortunately, she didn’t have Moonwarden by her side, to interpret the small nuances of a pony’s behavior. But the very same absence of her Advisor was the reason she felt it in her to act, and act strongly.

With calm, even cold calculation, she landed before Sunfall Ordain. Luna allowed her magic to flow down her legs, causing a little tremor when her hooves made contact with the surface. It was enough to have the batpony tremble once more, though it was bringing Luna no joy to act the part of a displeased deity.

“Sunfall Ordain,” she called to the mare again, making sure to use just enough of her trusted, royal voice. Not for volume, however, but gravity of her words. “Do you know what brings me here, this night and this moment?”

When a goddess was asking, it was prudent to answer, and do so truthfully. Sunfall Ordain seemed to remember that, though her response gave Luna no insights at first.

“N-no, O great Goddess. Who… Who am I to glimpse your intentions and plans?”

Luna respected the humility, though wanted to steer the mare in the right direction quite quickly. “I arrive here on my lonesome, Sunfall Ordain. Do you know why it is so?”

The question caused the mare to lower herself even further down, almost to the point of pushing her barrel right into the hard, cold stone. The strong tone did not rob her of her reason and wit, no, however afraid she was to speak up and reply.

“I… I have heard of what happened, O merciful Mother.”

Whether Luna was going to be merciful was going to be seen. But the confirmation that the news of Moonwarden’s fate reached this remote outpost did cause her anger to rise once again.

Before she could continue, however, came a question from the Captain, asked in a tone that gave Luna a pause. “How… How fares Advisor Moonwarden? I hope that he’s alright, through Your grace and will, O Goddess…”

She sounded genuinely concerned, which boded well, yes. It didn’t seem right to suspect the mare of duplicity in the face of her deity, though Luna would also try not to make any, unnecessary assumptions.

Considering the topic which had to be addressed, it wasn’t in her best interest to provide answers, but to receive them. “Moonwarden’s state is of lesser concern to you right now, Captain Sunfall Ordain.” This wasn’t a kind way to reply to her child, but it was most necessary. “The fact that he had found himself in peril in the first place is.”

Luna, observing Sunfall Ordain’s reaction, arrived at a sudden conundrum.

She could have sworn that the only emotion which became clear and apparent on the mare’s muzzle was confusion at the sentence, aside from the constant, pious worry. And it honestly felt almost impossible to consider that the batpony hid any evil intentions, or had in any way understood what exactly Luna could have been referring to. It wasn’t a necessity to have a skilled mentalist at one’s side to reach for one’s own instinct, insight and years of experience dealing with ponies, however interrupted by exile.

But something, something about the officer’s current state was puzzling. Whether it was Luna’s intuition or the mounting ire which was making all of her senses sharpen, but it was there. That sensation, that denouncing inkling, which came from those minuscule, seemingly insignificant tells. For there was that one glint, that one, small flicker in the mare’s bright, yellow eyes. And there was that one shiver that made her rusty mane shift. And there was that one, shaky breath, betraying a thrashing heart in Sunfall Ordain’s chest.

And nothing like that Luna could just overlook. She lowered her muzzle ever so slightly, but the proximity was already causing the batpony to scramble back, panicked over her deity’s closeness. And when Luna squinted, it was all enough to make Sunfall Ordain let out a small squeal.

To see a strong and dutiful mare reduced to such a state felt abhorrent to Luna. But also gave her at least some insight into what she desired and dreaded alike.

“… you knew,” were the words which escaped her lips, as she puzzled together what was causing Sunfall Ordain’s panic. “You knew this would happen.”

“No! No, O Mother, I didn’t, I just—!”

“You knew that Moonwarden would be endangered, that he would become a target!” Luna shouted, feeling the trembling in her throat as her voice was gaining in volume. “And you have been told not to speak of his involvement, or mine, it is you who brought this upon him!”

“No! No, no, I swear, O Goddess! O Immaculate Moon…!” Sunfall Ordain screamed, she wailed back at Luna, lowering her head so abruptly that it made painful contact with the stone. Though that didn’t stop her further words, at all. “I-I swear it, by Your Holy Name, by Your very presence! I haven’t let out a breath! I kept my promise, O Mother!”

“Yet you knew!”

Luna could barely contain herself, when the outrage, the anger and the sadness over Moonwarden’s fate all finally found their outlet. So great was this outpouring that she could feel herself becoming detached, deaf to the mare’s pleas, almost on purpose. All of the rage, those feelings bubbling inside of her, those she had been containing sometimes without even realizing it, every sensation brought forth due to what had happened to her beloved, it was all erupting out. Especially in that very last shout, which managed to cause the other mare’s mane and officer’s cape to be blown back, as if a violent gust of wind just struck the tower.

And Luna could feel, above everything else, that her very magic was reacting to this ire. It was feeding on it, it was being entwined and infused with it. It wasn’t uncommon for magical currents to respond and echo potent emotions, and alicorns were not unlike other creatures attuned to the flows of ley lines. In some ways, this sort of interaction could become far more volatile. 

And it was, Luna knew that much, even in the throes of her wrath, as her very state of being was manifesting around her, enveloping her in ways that were as hard to control as the anger itself. But this wasn’t… This wasn’t as darkly familiar. Of all the terrible influences this could have connected her to, it definitely wasn’t that one. It wasn’t that ancient force of the Nightmare, that had scarred Luna’s spirit, and was now making its way again into the world, no.

This... This was Luna.

This was her. All of what was happening, every bend and throb of magic around, it was all her.

Her pain, her frustration, her calling.

Her emotions.

It was like waking again, after a long and numb dream. Yes, the love that she had found for Moonwarden was the refreshing spring, but now everything that had followed, caused by that love, all the weight of it, all the worry and suffering that could have only accompany a pure emotion, it… It…

It was liberating. It was terrifying. It was a force to be reckoned with. Luna felt that she had just tapped into a whole ancient, forgotten font, after a thousand years. And it was, in some sense, exactly that. The sluice was opened, the geyser was erupting, and Luna was right in the current, allowing it to flow around her with an ancient potential that she had once held.

For she was angry with her own anger, she was in pain that she was choosing, rather than being stuck, motionless, insensate and hopeless, in the darkness of one’s own mind. That shackle was far more insidious than the whisper of the Nightmare.

And, in the gaze of the mare opposite, Luna could see just how all of those passions manifested after a millennium and more of corruption and emotional drought. She could feel herself changed and changing. Fair and beautiful for those she would favor, like the rising, silver Moon among its faithful entourage of stars. Terrible and dreadful to behold for her foes, like the same discus, shining argent judgment and bringing omens of arriving and inescapable misfortunes.

Luna both saw and felt that her mane was taking on the aspect of the darkest corners of the cosmos, where stars did not weave a beautiful tapestry, but were few and far between, the last signs of hope in the overwhelming blackness of the unknown. Her wings, alike, were being suffused with magic and emotions, spreading from her sides like a billowing cloak, ready to envelop anypony and everypony in her way, safeguard them like the night protected its secrets, or smother them in a cold, dark embrace from which there would be no succor. Her horn began shining with the power of stars, those being born and those falling down, the boundaries of their existence coming in flames and ruin and beauty.

And Luna’s eyes, bursting with might, filled Sunfall Ordain’s own gaze with the brilliant, burning silver. Carrying not the sweet and treacherous, mental seduction, like Moonwarden’s hypnotizing stare, no, but manifesting a great, primordial force of authority and sovereignty that the night possessed in its most grandiose form.

And so Luna stood before the batpony like a deity, indeed, in all of her splendor and wrath.

For a breath, for a frantic heartbeat in her chest, between the thumps that were making her blood shift in her, she felt connected to something greater, something primal. Something necessary.

A lake of silver manifested before her eyes, calming down to a stillness.

But that sight was gone a second later, leaving her with regal stoicism. Yes, anger truly was one of the oldest powers in the world, but it had to be tamed. It had to be directed and utilized, otherwise it would just spread like a destructive fire, burning away what it had to, and what it shouldn’t touch, alike.

Luna looked down at the cowering pony, and mercy did enter her heart, even among the storm of wrath.

“Speak, child,” she commanded the mare, with the voice sharing both the sound of a meteor, violently entering the atmosphere, and the rustling of leaves caressed by the nocturnal wind.

Sunfall Ordain would not protest. She wasn’t capable of that, faced with a sight that no batpony prior had had to endure.

“O Goddess, O Mother, O most holy and majestic!” came the supplications, meant to at least give the mare a moment to organize her scrambled thoughts, faced with Luna’s bared power and being. “I-I didn’t know, I promise, I swear to you, m-may I be damned to Goldhell otherwise, never to know your mercy! I was not aware that Advisor Moonwarden was in danger, that he could be…! I-It must have been those whom you have marked, those deceitful and turning away from your light, O Immaculate Moon…”

Luna’s countenance remained, casting a strange and terrifying light upon the tower’s top, as if the Moon itself lowered its face, only to share its illumination with that one spot in the entire world. But she also judged and fairly appraised the mare’s words, as agitated as Luna was with her indignation. Once again, Sunfall Ordain’s voice harbored nothing duplicitous, and yet her initial reaction must have meant that she was aware of something.

She was all the keener on making it clear, right before her Goddess. “W-we received a bat, it brought in a marked message, a-and the added note made it a highest priority missive. So… So I was n-notified and… and I felt that it was something vital, yes, something about it made me very uneasy, but… But…” She sniffed, as tears began welling up in her eyes. “But I didn’t want to o-overstep again, I wanted to be a good officer, so… So left it unopened, and I sent it on, and now I… I… I’m so sorry! I’m so, so sorry! Please, forgive me, O Mother!”

That apology was genuine, and the sorrow expressed through it was found worthy by Luna. She felt her anger subsiding at this show of remorse, but she didn’t let the magic extinguish itself alongside it. Not yet, anyway. Instead, she took a gentle step forward, the motion causing a silver wave to ripple through her regalia. Sunfall Ordain trembled at the approach, but Luna filled her voice with gentleness and care, even if it remained frightening to pony ears.

“Rise, Captain.”

Even against her instinct, telling her to back away and cower, the mare followed the command, though kept her muzzle away and her gaze hidden. Perhaps just out of pious fear, or perhaps to hide the tears and keep up at least some appearances of an officer of the Nightguard.

Luna took no pleasure from this mare’s fear, as there wasn’t justice to be meted out here, at least not in the way that Luna had been initially searching to do. And so she reached out, to touch the batpony’s muzzle, like a caring mother would. The mare still shivered at the contact, but the tender movement to take care of one of the droplets running down it did wonders to calm her down and have her listen.

“I sought to blame you, my child, but I find only remorse in you, and for something you couldn’t have anticipated, honorable as you are, Sunfall Ordain,” Luna spoke, weighing her words and the power in her voice. “You deserve no punishment… If anything, you should receive my apologies, instead.”

“O Immaculate Moon…” came the reply, followed by the mare backing away. It wasn’t fear, however, but shock, combined with pious conviction, that repulsed her from Luna’s closeness. “How...? How could you apologize for anything, O Mother? You… You are divine perfection, you are immaculate.”

Luna felt herself smiling. Not only at the sentiment, with the reality being was far less unblemished, but also at these words, these exact words. Moonwarden had said quite the same thing, though the strength of his declaration had lain in love of a slightly different sort than religious.

“Still, my ire at you was misplaced. So do forgive me for it,” Luna insisted, since it was the right thing to do. Although it almost caused the other mare to keel over from the sheer shock.

There were still matters to discuss, however, and perhaps knowledge to gain. So Luna gathered her focus and grasped all of the power which was circling, enveloping and embellishing her. Having in mind how she had presented herself the last time, she contained the magical aura which had covered her, subdued it like one contains one’s rage after realizing it inane. She left but the sort of enchantment she had maintained the last time.

It was a much more fathomable presence for Sunfall Ordain.

“Yours is not the fault, as I believe your words, my child. But somepony’s actions caused Moonwarden’s plight, and I take the matter very seriously...” Luna spoke, hoping that using her natural voice would calm Sunfall Ordain down even further and get her to cooperate in discerning this situation. “Would you prove your faith to me?”

The officer immediately straightened up to salute, finding solace from her anxiety in her training. “Through scorching days and glorious nights, for You I live, for You I die!” she declared, and Luna recognized the portion of the Nightguard’s creed, spoken with full conviction and belief. “O Goddess, I am willing to serve and help, however I can.”

Luna smiled, pleased and genuinely grateful to the mare. “Talk to me, then, Sunfall Ordain. Let us find a place where I can sit with you and converse, so that you make things clear to the world around, and to your own heart.”

It must have been a most bizarre moment for the other mare, to try and comprehend the idea of having a chat with one’s deity, but Luna had a feeling that something very important would come from such an opportunity.

She had been away for too long. From others, from herself.

This time, it would be different, she felt. And a strange, primal feeling in her chest spread at the thought, warm and cold alike.





Twilight was in a bit of a rush.

Providing the necessary answers to antas Carnelian had taken a little longer than any of them had anticipated, actually, especially when the good priest had begun asking about any and all possible feelings which had accompanied Twilight’s strange premonition in the shrine. He had done so with tact and insight expected from his station, but also with genuine understanding and curiosity, which had made sharing those small, and even seemingly insignificant details all the easier.

Unfortunately, it also meant that most of Twilight’s evening had been occupied, and she was almost certain that one, particular pony was already finding it most annoying and inconsiderate.

If anything, she could try and be on her best behavior, now that she was going to join Ebony Crescent. The Count Brother, despite his obvious, slightly uncomfortable in its intensity interest, had been a mostly gracious host, and it felt unkind to disappoint him. He had mentioned a performance, after all, prepared especially for her, and the fact that him and the performers both were still waiting was making her feel a little guilty.

Having sent Rowan Berry forth a little earlier, to inform the stallion that she was free and ready to join him wherever it was appropriate, Twilight had chosen for herself an elegant, calm ensemble with lace trims and adornments, something to remain both conservative and play into the Mountain’s more open-minded style and standard. Though, at this point, she was wondering if she had any more dresses actually left in her luggage. Rarity had been more than generous to equip her with an ‘ensemble for every occasion’, but a heavy, travel suitcase could only fit so much, and even after Twilight had miniaturized all of her reading material.

It wasn’t like she had had too many opportunities for a calm moment of leisure with a book. She had been dealing with one diplomatic challenge after another, and making some occasional notes was the most she could name as staying in touch with the written word.

She wondered if she could get another message from Equestria soon… Perhaps Discord could be persuaded to help out again, if it was possible to reach him from here, and even if his presence was introducing a near-unhealthy amount of chaos...

A knock on the door brought Twilight back from her thought journey, becoming another, little reminder of the unpredictability of the universe. As she was already preparing to leave, she opened her chambers without delay.

Midnight Wind was standing outside, somehow wearing an expression that was both calm and pensive.

“Hwalba knaze,” he greeted her in a stoic, polite way. One that was definitely easier to stomach after their recent fight, even if it didn’t feel... well, ‘optimal’.

“Yes, Nightguardian? What is it?” Twilight replied, trying not to sound snippy and stand-offish while maintaining the, unfortunately, still necessary distance.

“I just wanted to ask if the antas’ visit went smoothly,” the warrior claimed, though the tone of his voice was a little too stiff and official for it to have been the real reason.

However, it kept this conversation comfortable for the moment. “Yes, it did. Carnelian performed his duties with care and professionalism of his station, and shared knowledge on some matters I found intriguing. I think that he got the information the herame was looking for, though it’s hard for me to say what were his conclusions.”

“I see. I’m happy it went without a hitch, Honored Princess,” Midnight Wind told her back, though there was no actual joy manifesting in him, despite his words. “I shall be accompanying you to the performance now, as I understand. If that would be your wish, of course.”

All of that was said in a voice that was not only cold, but trying to be as devoid of emotion as possible. So much so that Twilight had to fight the urge to ask about it.

“That’s it?”

It was only after she had said it out loud that she realized that her internal question became very much external when her focus slipped for a brief moment.

Midnight Wind didn’t seem surprised by the inquiry, though he definitely realized that it had been an obvious mistake for Twilight to let her thoughts, and feelings, be known.

“I would not dare think that you want to receive anything more from me right now, hwalba knaze,” he commented, meeting her gaze. The intensity and the reluctance both were making it clear that it wasn’t an easy task. “I believe that you have made it perfectly clear. Some would say – painfully so.”

“I have apologized to you for what I have said, Midnight Wind, and I meant it,” Twilight reminded him, then felt the unobstructed urge to put the prompting into perspective. “Though I think that me feeling remorseful about a silly, uncouth remark, done out of frustration and tiredness, is a little less critical than this whole situation we are in, one that your actions have caused.”

“Perhaps, but it didn’t make me feel any better about you being the center of attention for that soleespalu kad,” the warrior judged, his lips trying not to form a scowl.

Twilight’s brow was less disciplined and ended up furrowing, betraying what her feelings on the matter were. “Ebony Crescent is showing interest, yes, but is also playing a good host. Most likely also due to that. I appreciate his effort regardless of his motivations, which is absolutely fine and appropriate. Besides, I am not planning on doing anything about his ‘interest’ in me.”

She also wasn’t necessarily planning on simply calming Midnight Wind down with these statements, as her goal was to make matters clear, first and foremost. Not that soothing the stallion would work anyway, considering his expression and his gaze.

“He’s playing far too good of a host for my liking, hwalba knaze,” he addressed her with the title once more, even if it was obvious other words were on his mind. “Sure, I don’t mind you being shown around. As only a bodyguard I shouldn’t care at all, right? But the amount of time this kuluz already tried to be alone with you is—”

“And nothing happened. And nothing shall happen, despite what you might be imagining,” Twilight told him, adamant about her stance, while also not appreciating Midnight Wind’s coarse approach. “You could at least abstain from calling him names, I think that’s beneath you.”

“I call it how I see it, and I’m not blind to his actions. And I do hope nothing shall happen.”

“I have already said, I’m not going t—”

“I’m not talking about you, Twilight.”

That gave her a pause, and a major one. There was something terribly serious in Midnight Wind’s tone. And the longer the silence lingered after that particular sentence, the worse the implication felt. To the point when she found herself having to say something, lest the unspoken accusation would be left to fester and rot.

“You would suspect and implicate him trying to be, what, forceful?” she asked, shocked that she had to even consider the scenario.

Her astonishment wasn’t coming from naïvete and not knowing how terrible some situations could get in life, especially when emotions, the most basic ones, were high and left unchecked. There was another source of this shock, unfortunately. Despite her insight’s best efforts, she simply couldn’t accurately say whether Midnight Wind was implying anything due to his worry about her… or the desire to, in this way, discredit Ebony Crescent in her eyes.

His tone would suggest the latter, even if his words addressed the former. “I accuse him of being a persistent and unremitting brat in those matters. Perhaps it’s not ‘abandon’, or however you say that word, but this potent insistence has always been troubling. Besides, you saw his guards leaving the tower and in what state he was, you can tell he’s not being apologetic about treating these matters like a game. A game he wants to play all too often, and with insistence that is now aimed at you, and I won’t just stand here and take it.”

“I’m not blind, I can see that he has a fixation,” Twilight responded, suddenly feeling very defensive, as if she was some young filly given a ‘talk’ from her father. That wasn’t the case at all, and she wasn’t going to let it be. “It’s worrying, yes, but I also see that it is not his only facet. Ebony Crescent is clearly plagued with other problems, some visible and I think a lot that escape first glance. Maybe this is his way of coping. And while not entirely healthy, nor morally straightforward, it might be healthier than other options.”

Midnight Wind chuckled. He actually chuckled, and it was a most unpleasant sound, coming from somewhere deep in the throat, where derogatory notes usually rested.

“Oh, he has a problem, alright. That he doesn’t know when to stop in his impulsive pursuits,” the stallion commented, not even trying to sound polite. “I know that you’re trying, as is your want, to see other’s from the kindest of lights. In this particular case, you should allow some shadow into this perspective, because it might be much, much safer that way, believe me.”

Twilight felt her brow furrowing even further, feeling very confused about the strength of Midnight Wind’s stance. And this befuddlement wasn’t coming from the fact that he wanted to help, or hinder, or anything else. 

It only grew as he continued. “Hebanu Kwadr has a reputation for a good, bad reason. He’s a persistent one, and very rarely dissuaded from a goal. Which isn’t always a bad trait, it’s actually useful, but I wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a wrong kind of situation due to it. Especially knowing your noble heart. Those rarely deal with these sort of scenarios, and even rarer know how to leave them unscathed.”

“How do you know?” she flatly asked.

“I’m not just some dumb warrior. I know, and know all too well, that ponies that tend to look upon others with goodwill and gentleness sometimes… sometimes can fall prey to their own goodness. And—”

“No,” she interrupted to correct him. “How do you know? How do you know that Ebony Crescent’s so persistent? And that he has a ‘problem’ like this? That is not something that somepony is usually shouting about from windows on the top of spires.”

“What do you mean? There are more than enough rumors circulating about, that’s enough to be—”

“No, Midnight Wind,” she stopped him once more, feeling something bubbling from her chest, making it feel warm and cold at the same time. “You’re not talking like that right now. You don’t sound like somepony who simply ‘heard some rumors’ and then decided to impart words of caution upon me. Whether you care for me so much still…”

“Of course I do!”

“… or you simply want to discredit and defame the Count Brother, make him look much, much worse than he is, you don’t talk like somepony that gave in to gossip,” she pointed out, observing any and all reactions from the stallion. “No. You are saying it all like you know it, and like you know it well. So tell me – how?” she persisted.

And began seeing more, after all. She spotted clearly that Midnight Wind was getting increasingly more agitated at her drilling and seeking answers. She was finding no joy in making him uncomfortable, as she still couldn’t quite bring herself to do that deliberately. But a matter still had to be clarified, if he was coming in with such strong words and accusations.

Midnight Wind clearly recognized her drive, though he was not respecting it, obviously. At least not enough to be transparent, which... hurt.

“I’m acquainted with the Count Brother and his sister, and that’s actually enough to know a little bit more about them and their preferences, virtues and vices, and—”

“And you are saying it all now. Not before. Or perhaps you actually did, I just cannot recall it among the many other things you have said and not said,” Twilight pointed out, feeling her voice getting more and more loud and sharp. “You’re doing it again, Midnight Wind, and I have already asked you not to. First you tell me that it’s an ‘old acquaintance’ between you and the Crescent twins. Now you speak as if you know the very secrets of Ebony Crescent.”

It was almost as if he wanted to interrupt her at that moment, but Twilight would have none of it.

“And you know how I know? Because there’s a very distinct difference between speculating that somepony is prone to seeking affection from others, and saying that one knows the reasons for it! He was ‘always troubling’? What does this all mean, what are you playing at, Midnight Wind?”

The warrior was looking at her unflinching, despite the rising tone and volume. There was this coldness in his eyes, one that seemed to be hiding them away, while never taking away their keen quality.

“I came because I want to warn you, Twilight Sparkle. Because I care for you, regardless of whether you still care for me back…”

“Stop hiding behind phrases, Midnight Wind,” she berated him, and even took a step in his direction, withstanding both his stare and his presence, which tried to cast a shadow over her. “You’re doing the same thing again, feeding me information in droplets, in snippets, like I’m some… some foal that cannot be trusted to learn things, because it would cause her discomfort or grief, or whatever else!” She paused only to point a hoof at him, almost poking him right in the crystalline emblem in the middle of his Nightguard’s breastplate. “Or is this, instead, some form of a show, to make me lose interest in Ebony Crescent, because you cannot handle your own feelings, despite me telling you that I’m not interested. I made a stupid remark, now you’re making a whole case out of it! Hiding what you really mean, like behind a mask!”

The stallion withstood her eruption gallantly, though it wasn’t hard to tell that there was a storm brewing inside of him. To his credit, he contained it, though Twilight couldn’t be certain if she wouldn’t prefer to receive the brunt of it, if it meant finally achieving… something. She didn’t know what, but ever since that fateful flight to the Mountain of Crescent, things had not been progressing. And even if it had looked like they had, a little bit, it was clearly only a prelude to more worries and anxiety.

“I care for you,” was the only thing he said, as if it were to be a spell which would make everything become normal again.

“And I would want to care for you again, but you’re robbing me of any chances currently, Midnight Wind!” she responded, feeling that her eyes were beginning to water. “Perhaps for g—”

Twilight was glad she was interrupted, because saying that last sentence in entirety would be nothing short of a torture. It would be like having one’s chest caving in with the exhale, the escaping air being necessary to let out the words, but also allowing the heart to be crushed, simultaneously.

It was the sound of the doors below being closed, one which echoed up the tower, that thankfully barged in on the argument. Both Twilight and Midnight Wind recognized it as the end of this particular exchange, not that any of them was looking forward to continuing it at the moment, or perhaps ever. It wasn’t going anywhere good.

Midnight Wind’s reaction followed his training, as he took a step and turned, standing to the side of the staircase, as if he had been guarding Twilight’s chamber all the time. She felt impressed, in an unsavory way, by how easy it was for him to don that particular mask, as if he hadn’t been in a feud with her a second earlier, motivated by Harmony knows what.

She had to hide her own emotions, too. She had the rest of the night to deal with, regardless of anything, and she couldn’t let anything more go sideways, for her own sake.

The pony responsible for the interruption turned out to be Rowan Berry. She appeared down the stairs a moment later, giving both of them quick looks, as if slightly surprised to see them waiting like this for her return.

When she spoke up, her focus was entirely on Twilight, and giving her the right amount of respect and transparency. As opposed to the stallion.

How things could change.

“Hwalba knaze, I’ve passed the message along and the Count Brother wishes to invite you to join him at your earliest convenience,” she reported in a calm, collected tone. “He says that the performance will still be undertaken, as it was initially planned, at one of the open theater stages of the Iug. And that the ponies involved in it didn’t mind waiting, at all.”

“Oh. Is that just politeness, or is it actually true?” Twilight found herself asking, perhaps still a little agitated and in need of letting her emotions escape her.

“Actually true, hwalba knaze,” the healer let her know, seemingly not surprised to receive such a question and in such a tone. “It looked like they were all rather excited to perform before an Equestrian guest, and welcomed the delay. It let them practice a bit more.”

Twilight felt her brow finally relaxing. Perhaps she could still enjoy herself that night, as she very much needed some positive emotions.

“What are those performers, anyway? Dancers, actors, musicians?”

“I… am not at liberty to tell, at the Count Brother’s polite request,” Rowan Berry admitted, hoping to receive understanding back.

Which she did, as Twilight would allow herself to be surprised, and appreciate it. Still, some appearances had to be kept, even if they caused displeasure.

“Lead the way, then, Rowan Berry. Both of you shall accompany me,” she did order the batponies, and one was much more at ease with that request than the other.

The trip to this open stage which the healer had mentioned meant dealing with wayward thoughts. Thoughts which were hard to process and organize… but that was to be expected of this journey at this point. Another night, another problem, another session of introspection from Twilight, if only not to fall victim to stress, or budding madness.

The contrast, the difference between how the ponies of her entourage had changed was almost physically hurtful to her. It was as if the warrior and the healer had switched places when she hadn’t been looking, though she knew that the flight to the Mountain of Crescent had been exactly the peculiar moment it had all occurred. To think that the pony she loved so much would turn so remote and bleak in no time, while the one she had been initially weary of, and who had admitted to being an operative for Twilight’s main rival in her quest, switched from antagonistic to helpful, and was more sincere, even grateful to be recognized for her attempts at doing her best?

This was terrible. This scenario was nothing short of unnatural, and Twilight was beginning to lose hope for a solution to this conundrum. Unless one would be revealed to her out of nowhere, which wasn’t unthinkable in this strange, mountainous land…

The interruption to her ruminations didn’t give her an answer to her plight, necessarily, and it happened only once, as the group was exiting the palatial complex. Twilight was tactfully allowed to be the first to cross the threshold and descend down the grand stairs, which was when she could hear the two batponies exchange a couple of sentences, apparently using that opportunity.

“Tue subaudee,” Midnight Wind asked, or rather stated something. He sounded at least a little irritated, but that was a constant when he was addressing Rowan Berry nowadays.

“Iae nye welee, ale bez trudnost. Tuyi bidei zyosyi. Zbit zyosyi,” the healer replied sotto voce, still sounding most concerned, even though Twilight couldn’t see her expression.

“Ha, ale tue musyi bide ita radosna vid to,” came the stallion’s vitriolic response, as if he was quietly taunting the mare.

Rowan Berry remained above it, however. “Nye, iae nye bide. Ale uai musyi dictai.”

“Nye.”

“Uai musyi.”

Whatever the exchange was about, it finished as soon as it started, with the batpony mare, her face stoic and dutiful, continuing to lead the way to where the performance was to take place.

Twilight almost bit her lower lip in irritation. If only she could understand a bit more of Noctraliyar! She could make out the basics, usually, but both her lacking abilities and her frustration were not allowing her to understand what that short talk had been about.

A part of her didn’t even want to know, actually, but that was caused by the echo of the knowledge of the two batponies’ previous involvement…

She gritted her teeth, swallowing the pain and simply heading where she was supposed to head to.

The place which had been chosen to host the performance turned out to be a quite spacious theater, in the sense of it actually being built on a half-circle platform. In that way it emulated, to some degree, ancient Equestrian designs, but, without surprise, the Crescents weren’t going to simply copy somepony else’s idea. Yes, the form served as an inspiration, but the seating, the columns around the structure, it was all chiseled and formed, given lightness and subtle delicacy that the Family’s designs where known for. The absolute novelty was a weave of marble above, creating a transparent, elegantly imperfect dome, marking the premises of the theater and giving visitors the impression of being inside a seed, or enjoying a glade in the very heart of a forest. 

Twilight would have been spending much more time and attention appreciating the wonders of architecture, were it not for her most recent irritation. She actually had to force herself a little to even admire the canopy of stone above, which turned out to serve a practical purpose as well as artistic, amplifying the sound in some way. For, when the group entered the premises of the theater, Twilight could hear her own hoofsteps, striking more forcefully than normal against the rich marble, with that much more clarity.

Another trot soon became audible, as Ebony Crescent appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to greet her properly, in a way he hadn’t been given the chance to in the evening.

“Honored Princess Twilight Sparkle,” he began with gusto and dignity, with Twilight’s name being mentioned with a little more volume than the title, obviously. “I’m so glad to finally reach you tonight. And, no, I’m not teasing or expressing displeasure, this is me only and solely appreciating the chance, once again,” he clarified his own words, sweeping the floor below with the edges of his looser, sable-colored gown as he gave her a deep, respectful bow.

“Honored Count Brother,” she replied and curtsied as it was polite. Unfortunately, she suddenly realized that she was not feeling entirely comfortable to use the stallion’s name, which she blamed Midnight Wind for. “I hope that Rowan Berry did convey them, but, once again, my apologies for making you and the performers wait, I—”

“No, no, I understand,” Ebony Crescent interrupted her. “Sometimes things work that way, it happens, but there’s no reason to lose time discussing it further!” he insisted, shaking his head.

Twilight could tell already that it took a lot from him to say it. His reaction at the courtyard had been quite telling, and she would bet that he had spent quite some time calming himself down and dealing with his affliction. But, as he again wanted to play the role of a host with grace and generosity, that effort she would appreciate. 

“The show will start soon, Twilight Sparkle,” the Count Brother continued, lowering his voice as not to cause an echo. “Your arrival had been anticipated and was already spotted, without a doubt. I don’t even have to say a word, so glad the performers are to welcome and indulge you. And we have the best seats in the house.”

Twilight smiled, doing her best to allow herself to let go of her annoyance and feel excited about what was to come.

The places which Ebony Crescent had ordered to be prepared would definitely help her relax at least a little bit. For all intents and purposes, the stallion had utilized the very loge which must have been reserved for his uncle, the Lord, and his closest family. As opposed to the rest of the theater, appearing quite austere with its marble and granite, this square portion, slightly removed from the other seats, had been covered in delicate wool of amethyst hue, which was muffling the hoofsteps, and nothing short of seducing one into finding their rest while enjoying a show. A chaise longue was granted to each of the guests, and the sofas were trying their absolute best to outdo each other when it comes to quality and softness. More so, one could choose from a variety of fruity snacks and aromatic drinks, presented pristinely on a short table, which allowed one to partake in feasting without standing up from the leisurely rest. 

If anything could help Twilight forget about her problems at the moment, it would be that very loge, and she wasted no time to follow the Count Brother and make herself as comfortable as it could be done. Without asking for a permission, or waiting to be served by the stallion, she took one of the pitchers and poured for herself a chalice of water.

For a good second she found herself deliberating whether it would be better to drink it or just pour it over her head, to the point where Ebony Crescent decided to comment on it as soon as she finished gulping it down.

“Is something the matter, Twilight Sparkle? It looks to me like the meeting with Karneol was more tiring for you than one would anticipate...” he spoke, having taken his place so that he could also enjoy the provided refreshments. It allowed for a hushed conversation, as the space between the sofas was quite small and their heads weren’t far away from one another. “Please tell me he wasn’t rhyming constantly. He does that and it’s unsophisticated, not to use a stronger word.”

“No, no, I just...” Twilight began, unsure of how she wanted to finish the sentence at first. Although she quickly arrived at the most general, but truthful response. “There’s a lot I have on my mind. I suppose I just cannot hide it well enough right now,” she admitted, eliciting a kind smile from the Count Brother.

“Thank you for your honesty, Twilight Sparkle,” he told her, his expression holding and even gaining in warmth and benevolence. “That is exactly why I found it all the more prudent to try and organize the time for you, so that you could spend it simply enjoying what our Iug has to offer. Heavy is the head bearing the circlet, and I imagine that Equestrian regalia are no less cumbersome in that regard.” Something glinted in his pear eyes when she looked at him more directly. “Would you do me a favor, if I were to politely and gingerly ask for it?”

“What would it be?” she inquired, as he at least managed to lure her curiosity out from behind the irritation.

“Do rest comfortably, ‘sit back’ as it is said in your tongue, and enjoy this show, Twilight Sparkle,” he asked, with a quite irresistible smile. “Yes, problems will linger, and worries shall remain. Life is full of its plights, and we can hardly change that,” he admitted, his smile never losing its authenticity, “but let art be at the forefront of your mind for now. Let it screen you from all that bothers you, and open you to new sensations. Please.”

He spoke that last words as if it was a plea for her own sake, and in some ways it was. Ebony Crescent was clearly hoping that, despite whatever might have been plaguing her, she would put it aside, if just for a moment, to appreciate what he had prepared, and to find her joy in it.

Despite everything, Twilight was willing to give this a chance, yes. The alternative, which meant sitting through this performance with her mind poisoning her pleasure, felt like a bad one.

Come to think of it, Twilight was thankful that the stallion was doing his best, whatever was truly pushing him to show her this kindness.

“I shall, Ebony Crescent.”

The Count Brother beamed at her calling him by his name again, and would say more, certainly, were it not for a sound of a drum reverberating throughout the theater and marking the start of the show. It was also at this point that Twilight realized that the rest of the seats, bar those taken by her entourage, staying somewhat nearby, were empty.

“Wait, is this a wholly private show?” she asked of Ebony Crescent, who grinned widely, baring his fangs.

“I love those. And you deserve nothing less, than a whole performance just for you...”

There was enough in that sentence to cause Twilight to blush, but another drum distracted her from it, followed by another and another. It was quite hard to tell where they were coming from, as the acoustics of the place were causing the sound to emit from all over, and strike at one from all directions at the same time. The rhythm which was soon established was that of a beating heart, Twilight quickly grasped, as the initial sound was followed without fault by a fainter, but no less prominent, echo.

At this point she also remembered that she hadn’t even asked about the nature of the performance, though the location seemed to suggest a play of some sort. The beating of the drums, however, pointed at something more primal, something that definitely didn’t want to fit into the pristine and sophisticated halls of the Mountain of Crescent.

How wrong was Twilight in this assumption.

The steady rhythm of the drums was soon joined by the plucking of strings and the trilling of flutes of some kind. The musicians were nowhere to be found, as the music was coming from all directions, likely due to some deliberate design of the place. It served its purpose well, as being subjected to such omnipresent melody was making Twilight feel like she was being submerged in the flow of the tunes, like she had dived into deep, warm water without realizing it. The liquid of the melody surrounding her was holding her in place, and yet moving her, making her sway in her mind to an unseen, yet most audible and harmonic force.

Force that was as elegant as it was primal, as sophisticated in its composition as basic in its intent.

She was going to check if Ebony Crescent or the other batponies were feeling it quite so strongly, but this strange trance she found herself in made her instead focus on the first bit of movement ahead of her – a dancer who made their way to the stage. The batpony mare was a picture of agility and ephemeral dexterity, shown without shame, as almost her whole body was on display, bar the veil which was hiding her muzzle and the transparent material around her croup. Even from this distance Twilight could tell what years of practice had done to the pony’s silhouette, and the mare’s entrance was marked with such graceful movements of her hooves and wings, one would think that she had just slid onto the stage as if it was iced over.

She wouldn’t be the first one to do so. More and more dancers soon appeared, each wearing a flowing costume, each showcasing their incredible physique, bending and twisting to the primeval yet sophisticated sounds. It was as if ballet forms and movements were infused with the intensity of a war dance, as if dignity and passion and grace and fervor all came as one. The scantily clad performers engaged in a dance that was coming through like a grand ritual and private exultation alike, and observing it felt simultaneously uplifting and staining.

One thing Ebony Crescent had said truthfully – allowing herself to appreciate this art form was pushing away all other things from Twilight’s mind. She wasn’t sure at which point had her eyes become transfixed, or when exactly could she hear her own heart join the rhythm of the drums, but recognizing it did not mean that she was capable of breaking this strange spell she was being subjected to. There were so many raw emotions in this dance, in the twists and turns and flaps of wings, that she couldn’t just ignore the pure power coming from the stage, and from the space above it.

For when the flutes trilled sharply, the entire congregation of artists took to the air, and only then did the proper, ripe performance begin. Freed from the confines of the ground beneath, the ponies launched into a rhythmic and frantic ball of feelings and forms. Twilight’s attention could at this point only vaguely recall what Midnight Wind had told her of the various pastimes in this Mountain, those that could distract and entice even a dutiful warrior. But she understood that point in a new way, without a mistake.

The sights above, while retaining the elegance of a performance, almost entirely abandoned prudence and subtlety. The moves and the costumes of the dancers, emboldened by flight and the primal music, left just enough for one’s imagination to be both sated and left in an almost painful anticipation for more. Twilight had enough attentiveness to recognize the flush on her muzzle and that dry feeling in her mouth, but she could not make herself look away from the incredible revelry happening above the stage. It spoke to her, it whispered sweetly into her ears while striking potently right at her core. This was an act which was leaving one breathless. Both when it came to the complexity of its design and the basic, raw intent conveyed through it.

Twilight swallowed, trying in vain to stop herself from staring, with her lips parted and shivers running down her spine, as the troupe swayed and dived, twirled and twisted, came close and barely touched, each of the participants giving a performance of a lifetime, and yet appearing as if nothing about their virtuosity was extraordinary. Through this medium, this conjuring of artistry, passion and anticipation and lust were conveyed with stunning clarity, while remaining veiled behind that last piece of cloth, one weaved out of decorum and modesty, growing thinner and thinner, but never ripping apart or being removed.

The performers were all aware of the fact, applying their trade with gusto and pure emotion. From time to time, one or the other was meeting Twilight’s gaze, and the effect was always the same for her. Whether it was a stallion or a mare, they were projecting such raw energy through stares alone that she simply couldn’t dare to look away, nor stop herself from experiencing enticing shudders, causing her whole body to feel strange and hot.

She needed to drink something, she had to break this enchantment, or else it would prove too much.

Somepony had already anticipated that.

Twilight did finally rip her eyes away from the performance, though doing so felt almost painful, as it robbed them of the marvelous sights and sensations. When she did that, however, the first thing she spotted was a chalice, filled almost to the brim with fragrant beverage, being offered to her by none other than Ebony Crescent.

The stallion, unlikely immune to this enticing dance but managing to deal with it more easily, had his pear eyes focused squarely on Twilight. When she spotted them, another shock ran through her system, a spark which hit every bit of her nerves. In the noble stallion’s gaze she saw such flame, such a blaze of feelings that she felt herself transfixed, as if by a mythical being. However, the truth was far more mundane, and perhaps that was exactly why it was so enticing. These were the eyes of a host, of a companion and a confidant, but most of all, those were the eyes of a stallion.

Twilight had felt the sort of warmth that this gaze caused her only once before, and the location had been far more secluded, though no less heated than the loge suddenly became.

Without a word, she accepted Ebony Crescent’s offering, and it felt somewhat symbolic to her. Bewitched as she was by the great performance, she couldn’t find it in herself to banish the thought. The only thing she could do to distract herself from it, was to indulge in the drink, which caressed her throat with the taste of citrus and herbs, leaving behind a slight tingling.

As she breathed out, not unlike a batpony sating their thirst, a sigh of joy and pleasure made its way through her throat. She couldn’t quite contain it, and the stallion next to her grinned widely, especially when spotting her abashment. His expression was telling her, however, that there was nothing to feel bad about, not here and not now, when such a play was being conducted.

Yes, Twilight would have to agree. With her ears throbbing with the music and her heartbeat, her eyes eagerly searching for more wondrous and enticing acts, and now her throat sated and yet still experiencing a pleasant, warming sensation, she could understand well what Ebony Crescent had suggested seeking. This was that threshold before abandon, with sensations building to the point of almost spilling over the mental barriers of decorum and decency, and experiencing this territory felt in equal measure exciting and dangerous.

She expected that many ponies, around Noctraliya but also back home, would mark a performance like this as daring, even indecent, as the barely-clothed performers were allowing their bodies to convey primal desires even without crossing the lines of vulgarity, but Twilight was willing to look past that. These dancers were simply astonishing, and the message they were sending to onlookers was clear, transparent, sincere... and undeniably sensual.

To the point that, when the music began to die down and the ponies landed back on the stage, forming a pile of bodies, glistening with sweat and experiencing a most artistic afterglow, Twilight felt almost... angry. Angry at being left without some form of contentment, as the strange ritual she had observed was almost begging onlookers to join it, and experience it in a more intense way than even the dancers had done.

Ebony Crescent’s voice reached her as the echo of the drums was dying down. “Riveting... Absolutely enthralling,” he spoke, his tone husky and filled with a strange, but discernible longing. “This performance is based on the oldest records of the ancient dances of our kin... And the message is... animalistic.”

“Yes…” Twilight told him, though her attention was still on the performers, resting in this communal, fatigued embrace.

She wasn’t going to leave them without a sign of appreciation, and she slowly rose up from her seat, albeit on shaking legs, and began stomping down. Doing so was not helping her winded state, nor was it entirely effective with the wool underneath, and so she opened her mouth and let out a loud shout of praise.

“Ha!”

Her voice, strong and emotional and raw, carried itself throughout the theater and immediately caught the performers’ attention. With dignified grace, which contrasted yet strangely corresponded with this primal dance they had shown her, they all rose and offered her deep, sweeping bows of gratitude and respect. They looked clearly ecstatic over awing a foreign dignitary and Twilight, herself, drank from their pure joy.

She doubted she could cause an encore by herself, even if a part of her sought it, desperately. This performance, seeing all of those mares and stallions performing in such impassioned and vigorous way, it had been...

“Mouthwatering...” Ebony Crescent’s expression reached her ears. “Twilight Sparkle, you have no idea what pure joy it was, to experience this alongside you... and to see you moved by it so strongly,” he spoke as he got up, avoiding the place’s echo. “I would ask about how you found it, but... I don’t need to.”

Twilight felt a creeping blush at the memory of the stallion’s intense stare, but she had to let him know that she appreciated what she had witnessed. “I’m still going to tell you, Ebony Crescent – this was... I’m not sure how to call it. Even words like ‘scandalous’ come to mind, but it was too sophisticated to be considered that.”

“I think both words could fit, after all...” he whispered back, closing the distance just a little. “Glad to see you are receptive to such art forms. I was... concerned you would not appreciate a traditional entertainment like this.”

“I would lie by denying that I found it thrilling... Perhaps more than I thought,” she admitted, still unable to stop her legs from being a little wobbly, and her back from shuddering pleasantly.

“Would you please your humble host a bit more?” Ebony Crescent inquired, sending her a small, but enticing wink.

“Oh?” she let out a wordless question, focusing on how this little, teasing action made her feel.

“I have one more surprise for you, Twilight Sparkle. Something I was hoping to grant you at some point, as a token of appreciation for your visit... and your allure,” the stallion whispered, though making it look like he wasn’t aiming at holding her attention, perhaps for the sake of appearances. “This is the right time. Let us return to the spires. I will let you rest, for just a moment, though, and then come to present it to you. Is that fine?”

“Yes,” she told him, even before she had a chance of really deciding. Whether it was her instinct, or something else, she felt that if this surprise was something that would make this performance she had been exposed to complete, she would welcome it. “Y-yes, though perhaps I will need a longer moment, I think I’m still working through what I witnessed,” she pointed out, trying to bring logic back, after impulse.

“I prefer to strike while the iron is hot, as it is said in your tongue,” the stallion told her, winking once again.

She didn’t know what he meant, but whatever it was... She just couldn’t stop herself from looking forward to it.

Because of the echoes of the drums, still ringing in her ears. Because of the recent, sensual sights, persisting before her mind’s eye.

And even because of that warm, tingling feeling, remaining in her mouth, throat, stomach, and slowly and seductively beginning to course through her chest.