03:40 - 15/06/1008 - Lunar Castle, Everfree Forest
“Did she say what for?”
“Nope.”
“Any other details?”
“Not really, no.”
As soon as Sol had returned to the Lunar Castle, Selenite told him that The Empress, Nightmare Moon herself, wanted to see him in her chambers. Alone. ‘Requested’ was Selenite’s word, implying some degree of choice in the matter, but Nightmare Moon never makes mere ‘requests’. Regardless, he was still reeling from the summons. As far as he was concerned, the only thing all that special about him was that he was married to Warmaster Selenite. He couldn’t imagine Nightmare Moon having any interest in him.
Whilst she was travelling through the halls Selenite her head up straight and her stride formal. Her long silver mane was kept up in a tidy bun, as was expected for any Lunar military mare in uniform. Conversely, Sol strode casually yet confidently behind Selenite, wearing nothing more than a black tank-top bearing the insignia of his former Army unit.
“Okay, but what did she say specifically?” Sol trotted up besides Selenite. “Like, what were her exact words?”
“Earlier tonight she approached me and said ‘When your husband returns to the castle, bring him to my personal chambers. I require his presence’. I asked why, and she said ‘You will understand afterwards’.”
“That’s it?” Sol cocked an eyebrow. Selenite nodded. “Huh, kinda cryptic, don’t you think?” he said.
“That’s just her. For what it’s worth, you’re probably not in any trouble,” Selenite assured him.
“Didn’t think I was,” said Sol. “I’d be being dragged down into the dungeons if I was.”
From what little Selenite had told him, Nightmare Moon rarely requested for ponies to meet her in her personal chambers. Most commonly, if she demanded a pony’s presence, she’d await them flanked by guards and high up on her throne. If a meeting had to be more one-to-one, it was usually in one of the castle’s many lounges or meeting rooms. But she wouldn’t meet with someone in her personal chambers unless the subject was, well, personal.
“Well, what do you think it’s about?” Sol asked.
“If I had to guess, she might just want a feeling for what you’re like,” said Selenite. “Her Highness takes a great interest in the lives of her servants.”
“So she’s nosy.” Sol smirked.
Selenite cleared her throat, her jaw tensing a little. “...not the word I’d use, dear, but you get the jist.”
After a long walk through the castle, down many ornate hallways and up numerous stories of stairs, they had scaled the final flight and reached the highest publicly accessible floor of the castle. Across from them was an open doorway leading to a small lounge, on the other end of which was an imposing set of tall ebony doors, shimmering with protective enchantments that stood between them and Nightmare Moon’s chambers. Two bulky and heavily armoured guards stood at the lounge’s entrance, two more at the doors at the black gate.
The two guards at the longue’s entrance snapped to salute as Selenite approached, their metal armour clinking and rustling as they did. She swiftly saluted back, as did Sol. Though Sol had been out of the Army for years and wasn’t under any obligation to salute anyone, he still wanted to be respectful.
“Sergeant Nightshade. Her Highness is expecting you,” one of the guards reported, their voice taking on a slightly hollow tone as it echoed through the helmet. “You may wait in the lounge, Warmaster Selenite. Please proceed through the field one at a time.”
Now up close to the doorway, Sol recognised the translucent shimmering field inside the doorway, a magical barrier to diffuse certain enchantments, detect contraband, and undisguise changelings whilst allowing ponies through untouched. Yet the intense glowing and shifting of the field signified it to be remarkably more potent than any civilian grade field and even most of the military grade fields he’d seen.
Selenite nonchalantly marched through the field, like she had done it hundreds of times before without a problem. She turned around to face him. “Come on, dear.”
Sol followed after her, but he pulled back upon contact with the field. It felt like he’d dipped his hoof into cold cooking oil, and a light tingling lingered on his leg not dissimilar to the feeling that popping candy would leave in his mouth. He shook it off and powered through the field as the curious sensation flowed over his whole body. The tingling dissipated shortly after he was through.
“Just a few words on etiquette, before you go in,” Selenite said, straightening a stray lock of Sol’s hair. “First, you bow and you don’t rise until she says so. Address her as ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Majesty’. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t say anything that might offend her. Don’t try to be smart. If she tells you to jump, just jump.”
Sol rolled his eyes. “Selenite, you know I know this.”
“Couldn’t hurt to be sure, right?” she said.
Sol shook his head with a smile. “I swear, you’re more worried than I am.”
“Of course I’m worried, it’s the Empress herself for-” She stopped herself. She blew out a heavy breath and lightly laughed. “You’re right, it’ll be fine.”
The doors that led to the Empress’s private quarters stretched to the ceiling, easily the height of three or four ponies. Without a word, the guards moved to open the doors in a practised, synchronised manner, revealing on the other side pure light-eating blackness with no end in sight.
Sol titled his head, too baffled to feel intimidated. “What’s with the dark?”
“It’s an illusion,” Selenite answered. “Hides the room from view while the doors are open. Not the issue. Sorry, not an issue.”
Heeding her input, Sol walked through. Despite being surrounded by infinite darkness on every side but the doorway, both Sol was lit as if he was standing under stage lights. Sol took a last look back at Selenite, noticing that her breaths were getting louder and heavier. “I’m gonna be fine, love,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” Selenite said, sweating a little. “I know.”
Sol threw her a smirk, and the doors clunked shut. Immediately the darkness vanished, the sudden appearance of a fully lit room made Sol automatically squint his eyes shut. When he opened his eyes he gasped.
He felt like he’d entered a temple dedicated to Nightmare Moon’s excellence. There were wings on either side of the room. The vaulted roof stood high above them. Double staircases curving around either side of them led up to a mezzanine above, which sat beneath great stained glass windows that allowed the silver light of the Moon into the chamber which glistened off of the assortment of armours, weapons, and other ornaments that decorated the walls. Statues of creatures in terrified poses stood in various places around the room, their expressions so vivid and lifelike that they felt real. After getting over the shock, Sol shook his head. Who the heck needs all this? he thought.
Directly across from him, where Sol half expected an altar to be, intricate tapestries depicting the elegant beauty of the room’s sole occupant hung from the wall behind the Empress-sized bed. And atop the bed was the supreme ruler of the mightiest Empire the world had ever known.
She didn’t look the part.
Silent and motionless, she sat still on the side of her bed, her body slumped over with her neck craned forward. Her ears and her gaze were cast down, listless and staring at nothing in particular, lips shut and neutral. She was naked, not wearing the iconic silver armour so often associated with her image, with only her gargoylian wings to shield her exposed body.
Tentatively walking forward, Sol recalled every other time he had seen her before, and how starkly different she was now. Absent was her boundless pride and confidence, any hint of that cackling megalomania so intrinsic to her, often frightening yet undeniably formidable public image. Had it not been for her ghostly mane of aurora and stars slowly swirling and shifting behind her, she may have simply faded into the background. Was this even the same mare?
Her catlike turquoise eyes looked at him for a second, demonstrating that she had noticed their entrance, only to snap back forwards in their indistinct stare.
Numerous public appearances had burned the image of how Selenite bowed into Sol’s head. Elegantly lowering herself with one leg forward, wings spread a little, and head bowed to the point where she could practically kiss the carpet.
Sol quickly crouched his front legs and lowered his head without any effort to match that style or grace.
A few silent seconds passed before Nightmare Moon laboriously slumped off of the bed and landed on her hooves. Nightmare quietly pulled in a breath, then spoke at last. “You may rise.”
Sol stood up stiff, unsure of how to introduce himself. He settled on “Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to be in your presence.” Respectful enough for his purposes, and it sounded like something Selenite would’ve said.
As she slowly prowled closer to Sol, Nightmare’s eyes locked on him like lasers. Even in a deflated state, she easily dwarfed him. He remained stoic, the novelty of the experience eclipsing any feelings of fear. Fortunately for him, Nightmare got straight to business. “It has been made apparent that my subjects lack a personal affinity with me.”
Sol glanced around the lavishly decorated room. I wonder why, he thought.
“A thousand years of exile has meant that the world has progressed much without me. Certain fundamental principles remain, yet so much has changed that I…” She paused, momentarily glancing up before looking back down at Sol. “…that is difficult to become accustomed with. Even as I enter the dreams of my subjects and see their hopes and fears laid out before me, the cultural context to interpret them is absent.”
Sol felt a shiver run down his back at the mention of Nightmare’s dream walking. He knew how extensive Imperial surveillance was, but it was always a pain to be reminded of it. Nopony could ever shake the feeling that they were being watched, because they probably were.
She continued. “I find the measure of my connection contrasted with that of Warmaster Selenite. Frequently I must lean upon her word to gleam the sentiments of the populace, and she holds a commendable record of staying abreast with public perception. I know she is well read, but one can only learn so much from intelligence reports and newspapers. Direct experience with the public is required to understand them. But we both know she has no time to mingle with the masses.”
“Mmh,” Sol shrugged. “She manages her time pretty well, all things considered.” A moment passed before he realised the offence that Nightmare may receive from being countered like that. “Though, yea, no town hall meetings or anything like that.”
She quietly glared at him for a few seconds and continued speaking like he hadn’t said anything at all. “Thus, I have deduced that somepony in her life connects her to the common pony. A pony of a labourer’s background, who earned what they have through humble means. I believe that pony is you.”
Sol eyebrow’s shot up at that last comment, too taken aback by it to respond on the spot.
“If my assessment is accurate,” she said, “then you may help me resolve my dilemma.”
Sol felt his body untense a bit. “Ohh, right, right. Well, if you’re looking for a, um…” He cleared his throat. “Pony of a labourer’s background to talk to, I’d be glad-”
“No,” Nightmare cut him off. “Simply relaying your perspective would be far too narrow. I wish to experience contemporary Equestrian life in the city of Manehattan through the eyes of a commoner.” She raised her hoof to point at him. “You will accompany me.”
He shuffled back half a step. “O-oh.”
“Is something the matter?” Nightmare raised an eyebrow, seeming to immediately pick up on his reaction.
“No, no, not at all.” Sol said. “Does Selenite know-”
“I did not inform her of my intentions prior,” Nightmare said. “Though feel free to speak with her about this. I’m sure she will have no objections.”
In any other job, the boss asking the partner of one of their subordinates to spend a night out with them would raise more eyebrows than somepony suddenly declaring ‘I am not a changeling’. It was somehow more benign when that boss was the time displaced Empress of the Lunar Empire, Sol figured. “I’m sure she wouldn’t, Your Highness,” he said. “But why me?”
“If I understand correctly, you hold a common perspective, you are trustworthy, you are a native Manehattanite, and crucially…” She raised her head. “You won’t draw attention.”
Sol held back a grunt. “No offence, but I think you doing anything anywhere would draw a lot of attention… In the best possible way, Your Highness.”
“I am aware of this. Therefore…” Nightmare Moon closed her eyes. Her horn glowed white. Suddenly, that glow encompassed her whole body, forming an inverted silhouette like an alicorn-shaped hole had been cut out of the world. Her wings receded into the figure as the form gradually started to shrink until it was just about eye level with the top of Sol’s head. A flash and the white glow vanished, revealing a whole new pony where Nightmare Moon once stood.
Significantly shorter and lacking wings, her coat took on a soft blue hue with black freckles across her cheeks. Silky smooth ice-blue hair curled down her neck, framing her noticeably softer facial features. Her cutie mark changed colours too, now a white crescent moon in a field of inky black splotches. She opened her eyes, revealing that only they remained the same, retaining the turquoise sheen and catlike qualities.
All the while Sol’s mouth was hanging open, eyes wide. He pulled his lips shut. “I think I get the idea.”