“Enemies?” Dusk's eyes were wide. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Artemis couldn't help but smile over at Dusk. His wonder and innocence could be so charming sometimes.
“You're not talking about when you were banished to the moon?” Dark suddenly flushed and added, “I probably shouldn't bring that up.”
Artemis rolled over to face Dusk in the spacious bed, which happened to be his, and reached out to give Dusk's cheek a reassuring caress. “You of all ponies can mention it all you want, Dusk. I am not so foolish as to pretend it didn't happen. But no, this was before that. Before everything, when the world was new.”
“But you became friends eventually, didn't you?”
“Eventually yes. It took a long time though. In the early days we fought directly, but even after we both realized that such conflict was accomplishing nothing save to cause chaos and destruction we still didn't become friends for a very, very long time. We had a sort of truce, in those days, but we were still rivals.”
The sun was just kissing the horizon to the west, while the edge of a full moon eased above it to the east. It was the vernal equinox. The mountains were still bearing a cloak of snow on their slopes, while below the greening of spring had just begun in the valley.
High up on the mountain, above the current snow line, stood a circle of standing stones. The light fell just so across the stones on this special day.
In that instant, when night became day on the day that both forces were perfectly balanced, two sets of hooves touched down outside the circle. Two alicorns landed, turned, and walked within the ring.
One was purest white. His mane was long and golden and flowed with subtle power. Feathers and beads were braided into it, hanging in strands just behind his ears. His tail too was so decorated, and flowers, the first of spring, were scattered amid the flowing locks.
The other was midnight blue. His silver-blue hair too was long and flowing, but bore no adornments, save tiny sparkles of magic that resembled the stars which were even now beginning to show as the sun's light faded. He spoke first.
“I have finished my stars, Solaris. Are they not glorious?”
“Oh, they're all right, I suppose. But what use are stars, Artemis? Can your ponies eat them? Can they wrap themselves in them against the cold? Are they weapons for use in battle?”
Artemis frowned. “My ponies appreciate them. They sing to them when the sun sets and the moon rises.”
“Their songs were no help when my ponies came raiding, were they?” Solaris smirked, the smug expression of a schoolyard child who has seen his worst enemy trip and skin his knee. “How many did you lose this year?”
Artemis put his ears back. “They still survive. I have not lost yet.”
“Yet,” said Solaris, the smirk turning into an outright grin. “But soon enough I know you will.”
“And what then? The day to last forever?”
The smirk turned to a scowl. “You know I'm not that foolish. Eternal day would scorch the life from this world. We agreed we had to take turns in the sky. I will not break my vow.”
Artemis looked at his hated rival for some time in silence. Then he nodded. “You have kept it thus far. And I keep mine.”
“You'll keep it even when you lose? When your ponies are all dead?” Solaris was smirking again.
“If,” said Artemis angrily, emphasizing the first word heavily, “I should lose, yes I will keep my vow. No more direct battles. No more tearing up the land. No more feeding chaos. I am not an animal, to thoughtlessly fight when such fighting will destroy everything.”
A little bit of the smirk faded from Solaris' face. “No, you are not. Neither am I. And... it is better this way. Better to compete with our chosen bands of ponies than to bite and claw at each other like rabid wolves.”
Artemis sighed. “Perhaps you only say that because for now you have the upper hoof. But do not rely on that situation lasting, Solaris. I will find a way to defeat you.”
Solaris laughed. “We shall see. Next year?”
“Next year.”