“Thank you.”
I take the file in my magic, bending the fibers making up the page to my will. The file lifts in my magical grasp. Swiftwing and I trot out the door, making our way through Canterlot to thirty-five forty-one, Abtenauer Road-Gemmie’s residence.
While we trot, I meditate on my deeper thoughts:
I find it curious that Celestia believes this to be my home. Until I was freed from the nightmare-and able to let go of my hatred and grudge- I had not even seen Canterlot. The mountain was there but-in my time-it was a less than ideal place for a palace; unicorns would constantly be burrowing underneath the mountain for Radirock crystals, it was near impossible to get supplies up to the mountain top, and it was out in the open for whatever dragon decided it would be a nice spot for some pony flesh. Yet, Celestia considers it her home and expects me to do the same. I have not visited my old palace since that night. The night I finally d-
I am suddenly broken out of my reverie by a sound. Turning to my right, I see that the sound came from Swiftwing.
“What was that?”
I ask a slightly annoyed looking Swiftwing.
“I asked if you knew where we were going.”
“We are headed toward thirty-five forty-one, Abtenauer Road. It is above the sewer system.”
I say, gesturing a hoof in the direction of it. Swiftwing scrunches some of the muscles in his face together.
“Well, that must smell wonderful.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“We will have to go there to make the Runemaster pay for what he has done. It is necessary.”
Swiftwing’s face turns serious.
“You said 'he'.”
He says, quietly. I frown.
“You don’t believe that it’s Gemmie, do you?”
He continues. I shake my head, no.
“It simply does not make sense.”
I say, still shaking my head.
“What doesn’t?”
He asks. I try, futilely, to arrange my thoughts.
“The Runemaster is smart…”
I begin.
“…He is very smart… so, why would he leave the file?”
Swiftwing turns his head to the side.
“I don’t follow.”
He says. I stop trotting.
“If the Runemaster was Gemmie Reference-a pony who had extensive knowledge of the Archives and its inner workings-why would she leave her own file there, when she knew exactly where it was?”
Swiftwing rights his head’s position, and stares at me intently.
“I see. There would be no reason to leave the heavily incriminating file unless it she wasn’t the Runemaster. But, if she isn’t the Runemaster, then the file is a plant.”
I stare at the file held in my magic.
“I don’t believe we will find any answers at thirty-five forty-one, Abtenauer Road.”
I say, shutting the papers contained in the file together. Swiftwing moves closer to me.
“What will we do? This is our only lead.”
Waxing Crescent
“Wrong.”
Before I can blink, my teacher hurls the chalk eraser at my forehead. It strikes near the base of my horn with a resounding ‘plunk’ before landing on the floor next to me.
“Ow.”
I whine. My teacher stares at me with half lidded eyes.
“The rune spells were not created on a whim. Historically, they were created because…?”
I take my hoof away from rubbing the point of the eraser’s impact and look at my brown-coated teacher. He grasps a piece of chalk in his hoof for writing on the board, stating that ‘just because he is an Earth pony, does not mean he enjoys the nuanced taste of chalk’. I rack my head for knowledge on rune spells but it seems like a void has replaced any studying I did. A tune from one of the minstrels I heard earlier plays one part of the song in my mind over and over, again. I look at my teacher, poised in an expectant position, one hoof raised to write on the board, the other planted firmly on the ground.
“Because of a war?”
The chalk that my teacher was holding a moment ago makes a mark squarely on my muzzle. I groan, slumping forward in my seat until my head practically touches my spellbooks. My teacher takes another piece of chalk in his hoof.
“Of course, obviously, the best spell for warfare would be a completely stationary one with many hours of prep time and rare materials. I cannot imagine why nopony else has thought of that.”
I stick my tongue out at him and cross my forelegs.
“Alright, I do not remember. Canst thou just tell me?”
I plead, somewhat reluctantly. My teacher smiles the smile he always has when he wins.
“Very good, I am finally making progress. The reason is…
Third Quarter
“Princess!”
I look up with a start. Swiftwing stares at me with a face making the transition from annoyance to concern.
“What happened, Princess Luna?”
He asks, completing the transition.
“What do you mean?”
I ask, with some hesitation. An expression writes itself, than erases itself- too fast for me to tell what it said-on Swiftwing’s face.
“You froze up. I asked what was wrong, several times. But, you didn’t respond. I’ll ask again: what happened?”
All humor is gone from Swiftwing’s face, now. I rub a hoof on a spot near the base of my horn.
“It… hurts…”
Swiftwing’s eyebrows rise.
“Princess, I don’t believe it’s safe for you, here.”
I shake my head, again.
“N-no, I am fine. We are not going.”
I say with certainty. With hesitation, Swiftwing trots forward with me.
“Princess, what is going on?”
Swiftwing asks, almost accusing. I shake my head.
“We will speak later, not now.”
Swiftwing stomps a hoof on the ground, in anger, but remains silent.
“Well, that was our last lead. What next?”
Swiftwing asks, anger springs into his voice and he seems to care about it very little. We reach the apex of a hill and I stare out into the beautiful streets of Canterlot. I am vaguely aware of a mother walking her foal to school, a few blocks away. Friends and family gather at restaurants to enjoy a meal together, while some ponies are content to simply walk aimlessly about with no goal or direction.
“It is not our only lead.”
I say, with confidence. Swiftwing turns his head, to look at me. Comprehension dawns on his face.
“The Runemaster’s weapon: a rune.”
I nod my head.
“It is unlikely that the Archives have any books left on rune theory. I know there are not any on rune practice; Celestia and I destroyed them all.”
Swiftwing’s brow furrows, at the last comment. He looks at me, one eyebrow raised.
“Why?”
He asks, curious. I recall the memory of Celestia and me, burning the texts on rune spells with our magic. Except…
“I… I do not remember.”
I say, incredulous.
What is going on?
Swiftwing looks at me, expressionless. The manifest anger he had moments ago is completely gone, not the faintest trace of it remains.
“We need to go.”
Swiftwing says, a coldness entering his voice. I allow Swiftwing to carry me to cover, underneath an archway. My breathing comes shallowly, in short gasps.
Get a grip.
I am trying.
No, you are not.
My breathing becomes more regular. I set my thoughts in better order, laying all four hooves firmly on the paved tiles. I look back to Swiftwing and nod my head. After which, he releases his grip on me.
“Okay, we’ll start there: who would have access to books on runic theory, or knowledge of runic application?”
Swiftwing deliberately trots around my most recent breakdown.
I grow tired, of this.
You are not the only one.
“Runic theory is only in the Archives and perhaps the black market or antique shops. Runic application is an even smaller net; that kind of information could have been kept alive by some kind of cult groups, but it is pretty unlikely that such a thing would occur. Besides that, there is me, Celestia, possibly some of our immortal enemies-such as Discord-and the Crystal ponies.”
Swiftwing pauses, in thought.
“What about Princess Sparkle?”
He asks. My left eyebrow rises, skeptically.
“For one thing, Celestia would have no reason to teach Twilight anything about Runes. For another, Twilight Sparkle has almost the entire town of Ponyville as witnesses because she was there for Caramel and Sassaflash’s wedding at the time of Applejack’s disappearance. Rarity was there too, before you accuse her.”
Swiftwing throws an annoyed look at me, before collapsing into thought again. He looks up, eyeing me carefully.
“What about… Nightmare Moon?”
He asks. I blink at him, dumbfounded.
“You accuse me of enchanting my sister?”
I ask, accusatorily.
“Nightmare Moon, not you.”
I shake my head.
“Let me know if you have a plausible idea.”
I say, sarcastically. Swiftwing looks away, studying a stone for a moment.
“Understood.”
He says, without inflection.
First Quarter
“What?”
I say, awaking suddenly from my blissful sleep. My teacher looms over me, an imposing figure in the dim light of the study room.
“I said, any time you want to wake up, we can continue our lessons.”
I rub my right ear, with a hoof.
Then you whacked me with an eraser.
My teacher taps my desk with an eraser, repeatedly.
“What? I am awake.”
Reluctantly, my teacher turns back to the chalkboard. Picking up a piece of chalk in his hoof, he writes on the board: ‘Mind spells.’
“Now, what is the number one-non moral-limitation of mind spells?”
I groan, hitting my head on the desk in front of me.
I wonder what Tia is doing?
The chalk grazes my horn, leaving a white stripe as it goes by.
“Do you have to keep throwing things at me?”
My teacher already holds another piece of chalk in his hooves.
“Will you pay attention?”
He asks, annoyed. I sigh.
“I do not remember.”
My teacher frowns and turns to the board.
“The greatest limitation of mind spells is free will: no mind spell allows the user to completely shut out the pony he or she is controlling. As a result, Unicorns and Alicorns generally have to pick a creature whose mind they can force their will onto; a Unicorn cannot control an Alicorn, but an Alicorn can control a Unicorn. Mind spells are the primary means for sabotage, like a Unicorn taking the mind of a Griffin, or an Alicorn controlling a Dragon. Over time, the use of these mind spells dwindled, because the use of mind spells has a very big drawback: every time you cast a mind spell…”
Waning Gibbous
I awake, suddenly. A flap of my wings brings me immediately to the ceiling of my bedroom. My horn punctures one of the beams and, with difficulty, I pull it out. Setting my wings slightly above one hundred and eighty degrees, I glide carefully to the ground.
I really need ponies to stop carrying my unconscious body to bed.
I think, wryly. Looking around, I see that Swiftwing has again taken watch at the hoof of my bed. He is awake and he watches me, carefully. I trot towards him.
“Princess, I wanted to ask you something.”
I stop trotting. I nod, warily.
“What is that, Swiftwing?”
I ask. Swiftwing looks uneasy, as if he is not sure whether or not to ask his question.
“What… happens… when you lose consciousness? Anything?”
I ponder his words for a moment. I suppose I can tell him.
“I… see things.”
Swiftwing raises an eyebrow but says nothing.
“I see memories, my memories. But… I feel like I am there and… I do not remember them.”
Swiftwing nods.
“From what I’ve heard you were blasted by the Elements of harmony twice. I’m not too surprised that something like this would happen.”
I shake my head and turn to look at Swiftwing.
“No. It does not make sense. Why would it suddenly happen now? If it was caused by the Elements, what was the catalyst to these suddenly appearing memories? There just is not enough information.”
I sigh, trying as mightily as possible to ignore the Runemaster’s possible link to my sudden ordeal.
“Was there anything important in the memories?”
‘Unicorns and Alicorns generally have to pick a creature whose mind they can force their will onto; a Unicorn cannot control an Alicorn, but an Alicorn can control a Unicorn.’
‘Not you, Nightmare Moon.’
I am Nightmare Moon. There is not a way she could come back without my knowledge… Right?