//------------------------------// // Early Observances // Story: Luna's Librarian, Twilight's Moon // by TheLastBrunnenG //------------------------------// The Summer Sun texts say, “Her Royal Highness and Empress of the Daylit Skies and Eternal Sun, Princess Celestia, rises each day in the pre-dawn hours to perform the sacred duty which warms and sustains all Equestria.” No, I don’t. If I’m awake in the pre-dawn hours then the Apocalypse had better be here and it had feathering well better have reservations. I rise right at dawn and not a bloody second before. If there isn’t a steaming hot mug of Jamareican Blend coffee (double strong, double sweet) waiting for me then the Most Holy sun can frelling hang. Waking me before I’m good and ready is not conducive to a long and happy life. The moon is still up. It’s dark outside. The sun is still lounging happily below the horizon, and I am far, far too awake. Something or somepony made me ‘rise in the pre-dawn hours’ and they’re going to pay. “Guards,” I call in my most serene voice to the two fine stallions posted outside my door, “did either of you hear a loud noise just now? A clattering or squeaking, maybe?” The two gentlecolts snap smartly to attention. One of them pipes up quickly. “Yes, Princess! There was a disturbance in the general direction of the Royal Observatory.” “Can you describe it?” The first guard continues, “Yes, Princess. It was like a metal-on-metal scraping, followed by a loud crash.” The second guard clears his throat and adds, “Maybe like a… a banging sound, Ma’am.” I smile with only the smallest twitch in my beatific eye. “And why are you not investigating this disturbance with all due speed?” The two fine fellows exchange worried glances. “We’re under orders not to leave this post under any circumstances unless ordered by the Guard Captain or by yourself, Princess. New standing rules since the Changeling invasion, Ma’am.” I nod. “Very well, then. I shall return shortly.” Out of sight of the guards my scowl returns with holy vengeance. I have not yet had my coffee and here I am, stalking the halls of my own castle, looking for the source of some mystery squeak which apparently the guards are forbidden to look into and the castle repair staff have conveniently overlooked. I am definitely going to smite somepony for this. Down the halls I trot, hooves clip-clopping across stone, tile, carpet, and polished hardwood, each hoofbeat inspiring another method with which I could punish the heinous evildoer who woke me, and who had the gall to do so before my coffee arrived. My current favorite: Griffon bait. I know the path to the Observatory like the back of my hoof, including the shortcuts, secret entrances, and scenic routes. Of course I could simply teleport there, but sadly it’s still early and thinking straight will have to wait for the dawn, which I have no intention of bringing until somepony can tell me what in Tartarus that sound was. Through disused passages I squeeze, and considering how long it’s been since I used some of these shortcuts, squeeze is the operative word. Note to self: keep the caffeine coming but lay off the coffee cake. So here I am, appearing at the Observatory doors from behind some ancient and abysmally musty tapestry, which I note is highly inaccurate in its depiction of my victory over the Hippogriff legions, which involved far fewer spears and far more games of blackjack. I’m getting distracted again – where am I? Oh, yes, scaring the armor right off of the two Lunar Guards in front of whom I just appeared. Might as well have teleported after all, I guess. “My good fellows! Sorry to have disturbed you,” no I’m not, “but did you hear a loud clanging, scraping noise? Maybe a banging sound?” The two wide-eyed Lunar Guards are still panting and shaking from my sudden appearance, from my admittedly unusual question, and from the fact that I almost never have cause to interact with the Lunar Guards at all. They’re Luna’s personal retinue, true (do they count as an entourage?), so technically they don’t answer to me. Technically, they will answer, if they know what’s good for them. One of them finally catches his breath and stammers out a reply. “N… No, P… Princess. Nothing at all.” The other joins him in not replying in the slightest. “Nope, not a thing. Completely silent. All night.” I smile, quietly. The three of us stand there, smiling, quietly. I am immortal and as such I can do this eternally if necessary. These two Loonies are not. It’s amazing how quickly a pony’s resolve will crack when faced with a happily smiling ageless alicorn Diarch. “Well… There was one small noise. A minor tinkle. Just a thump. Or a bump. Maybe a crash, or possibly a deafening smash. Yep, definitely something huge smashing and shattering to bits. Ma’am. Princess.” The Lunar Guards are so cute in their bat-wing armor and their bat-mane helmets, especially when they’re about to wet themselves. Without a word from me, they exchange glances and step aside. I ease the great golden Royal Observatory doors open and I’m horrified. No, there’s no blood or scene of horror, no invading horde camped out in the Observatory. There is, however, the largest telescope in Equestria, now pointed unceremoniously toward the floor, its primary lens a wreck of glass shards. That’ll cost a fortune to replace – how large a fortune it is, I’m not sure, because it’s a sum I am not prepared to calculate without coffee. The main tube, formerly a polished masterpiece of engineering, is now scraped and bent as well, possibly thanks to the purple and indigo hooves wrapped around it. Hooves? I clear my throat. “Luna, Twilight, you can come out now. May I ask what you are doing clutching onto what was formerly the largest working telescope in Equestria?” Two ponies scramble from behind the other side of the telescope, their manes a tangled mess. Twilight appears to be wearing at least half of Luna’s ceremonial platinum armor. The other half is nowhere in sight. They hem and haw and mumble and blush like there's no tomorrow. “Sister, we were just – ” “Observing! We were checking the angle of – ” “And measuring the declination of a certain, ah – ” “Planetary body, which we, um – ” I’d blast them if they weren’t so annoyingly adorable. I grin the grin of happy, joyous future blackmail. “You two have an hour to finish checking the angle of each other's planetary bodies. Enjoy yourselves, kids.” I lock the great golden Observatory doors behind me and head for the Royal kitchens. It’s almost time to raise the Sun, and this’ll take a months’ supply of Jamareican Blend to unsee.