//------------------------------// // Luna: Another Empty Room // Story: Game of Worlds // by DualThrone //------------------------------// “If you could have anything, Princess Luna, what would that anything be?” “We would…” “Stop.” Despite the sharpness, there was gentleness in her voice. “There is just us here, Luna. Speak as yourself, not as a royal. Own your goal and embrace it.” “I would be the ruler on the throne. I’d be elevated and loved by the common pony. My night would be as great as my sister’s day. This would my kingdom as well as hers.” She paused. “I’d right her wrongs, embrace the justice she wouldn’t… I…” “...you would be a greater ruler than she.” There was a touch of approval in the tone. “You dream of a crown and believe you’ll use it well.” “Well, a tiara…” “I can do this for you. We can do this for you, Luna.” “And your price?” “Merely living space in your mind and soul, Princess. I have no flesh of my own, and so must borrow yours if I am to help you do this.” “And who are you?” As much as was possible, Luna tried to convey eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Who are you that you promise me a crown and a throne, the crown and throne of my sister?” “I am Nachtmiri Mein. I am Darkness and Power and more ancient than you can imagine.” Somehow, the silky voice in her mind conveyed a genuine smile, without the malice that the statement might imply. “But I am also known as the nightmare Moon.” Princess Luna flared her wings in agitation as she watched Spite vanish into her unique brand of teleportation, knowing precisely where the dragoness was going. “Spite!” She called through the gap. “Spite!” With a frustrated exhalation, she hit the stonework with a hoof. “Of course. Of course she’d just fly off and take care of things impulsively…” Sort of like a certain pony we both know, Selune? Luna sighed but with a little smile at the ghost of a voice in the back of her mind, a voice she always made like that of Nacht when she was talking to herself, even using the nightmare’s pet name for her in her mind’s ear. Of course, Nacht wasn’t there. Not anymore, Luna thought with a little pang of sadness before she turned to the stonework, which was radiating magic like a signal flare. A quick sweep over it with her horn confirmed what had seemed obvious the moment Spite had vanished through the narrowed opening: it was a portal of some kind, tied to a completely different location, likely the lair of Master or some manner of trap for anyone that tried to follow the hive creatures, and Luna suspected that Spite had been well aware of it when she’d gone in. It’d fit; the dragoness had made reference to specializing in assassination instead of all-out battle, and if she was sure that she could escape if she needed to, the chance to see their enemy personally was one that couldn’t be passed up. Because if he could be seen, he could be struck and if he could be struck, he could be killed. With the doorway apparently a dead end, Luna turned to look back the way they’d come. Without anything chasing them or being chased, it was clear that what had seemed to be featureless, straight corridors were actually riddled with as many doorways as sections of blank wall. Curious, she peered into one of the rooms—and immediately recoiled, stumbling backwards so hard that she fell on her flanks. The room was a charnel house. Months old to be sure—the corpses she caught a glimpse of before recoiling were mostly bone from decay—but the room was full of dead griffins. Swallowing, she forced herself back onto her hooves and looked in again. The corpses had been stacked with a disturbing order to them: front and back legs tied at the joints, wings tucked down by wire against the frame, head shoved down in line with the body, and stacked in an almost perfectly square manner of six across and five high. The order reminded Luna of someone storing resources and an atavistic shudder passed through her. You knew that ‘Master’ loves to experiment on living things, Selune, Nacht’s voice pointed out. Are you truly surprised that he’d use living things as resources, like a bucket of apples or a bundle of hay? No, she admitted to herself. It doesn’t make it any easier to see, though. We’ve seen worse, her mental voice said, the sound of it rich and languid like the voice of the nightmare Moon. We both have. But we’ve never been helpless before monsters like this, have we? “No,” Luna said aloud as she looked at the stacked bodies. “We haven’t.” She sighed heavily and shook her head. “Heh… it’s been six months since it was ‘we’ instead of ‘me’… who would have thought that I, Luna, the Princess of the Night, of the Moon, of War, would miss her imaginary friend?” “Uh, imaginary friend Yer Highness?” Luna had turned and pressed one of her construct blades against the throat of Rainbow Dash before her mind had even connected the slightly raspy feminine voice to the rainbow-maned pegasus that bore it. When it had, she banished the construct and sagged. “Don’t startle me like that, Rainbow Dash!” For being mostly a civilian, Rainbow had reacted oddly like a soldier—or somepony with the reflexes to fly at unprecedented speed without losing control Luna reminded herself with an internal smirk—to the threat, starting to duck under the blade and present it with her head and face instead of the vulnerable arteries in her neck before Luna had dissipated the blade. “Uh, yeah, kinda figured that out,” she replied after a moment of eyeing Luna warily. “What’s got you so hair-trigger… um… Yer Majesty?” “You need not address me with titles, Rainbow,” Luna replied with a smile. “The Elements have more than earned the right to speak to me as a friend.” “Kay then, Luna… what’s got you so hair-trigger?” “It’s… best that you not see,” Luna grimaced. “Is it worse than my best friend since forever turned into that thing?” Luna sighed and gave a small nod of acknowledgement, stepping aside to let Rainbow look. Rainbow stepped around her and looked over the contents of the room for a long moment before very grave magenta eyes locked on Luna’s. After a moment of them looking at one another, Rainbow grimaced a little. “Yeah, this ain’t good.” She looked back at the room. “This ‘Master’ bucker… he’s been doing this a while.” “More than a mere week,” Luna agreed. “I’m disturbed that an enemy could have been attacking the griffins all this time, seizing their cities and experimenting upon them, and we knew nothing of it.” “Eh, it’s not that hard to buy,” Rainbow shrugged. “About the only griffins who get out of the Provinces do flight camp and then go home. Oh, and Eggie but, yanno, consul-ing is his job.” "They have always been very reluctant to ask for aid when they need it," Luna nodded. "Even with dragons murdering their kind in droves a thousand years ago, they refused to ask our help, even as a neutral mediator. And now..." "...it's come back to bite 'em in their plots," Rainbow huffed, a sound that was almost as dragon as it was pony although the mare didn't seem to notice. “Except for one thing though: how the hay’d this go unnoticed? I mean, they’re all isolated and proud and everything but ponies come back and forth pretty regularly. How’d this ‘Master’...?” “...hide it,” Luna nodded. “It’s a good question, Rainbow, but for one thing: the griffins closed the border with Equestia during the affair of the Guardian and just reopened it very recently. They claimed it was because they wanted to protect the Provinces from what was happening in Equestria but now, I have to wonder.” “Huh.” Rainbow turned this over in her mind. “Pretty good trick. Bet the first thing he did was set up those creepy tentacle-face things to make sure nobody bothered him.” “And then either coerced cooperation or simply replaced the griffin leadership with his puppets, puppets with unnoticible alterations like those with Consul Halia.” Luna sighed. “We are woefully behind the times, Rainbow Dash, and that bothers me deeply. The threat of this ‘Master’ is months old.” “So why not Equestria?” “Hmm?” “OK, so I’m this ‘Master’ bucker, right? Closed off the border, made sure the consul couldn’t spill the beans, pretty much a matter of time before all the griffins are my playthings. No one knows it’s going on.” She looked very directly at Luna. “So why not go and start doing the same thing in Equestria? Why not snatch up little backwaters and move up the food chain before we know what’s up?” Luna considered this. She’s right… Equestria was prostrate, weakened by the Guardian. I and Tia were trying to rebuild, the Elements were putting themselves back together, the Royal Guard and Wonderbolts were in recovery. So why not Equestria? “Another player,” she said aloud. “This ‘Master’ is obeying someone who told him to take care of the griffins but leave Equestria alone.” She paused to follow the train of logic a step further. “Which means that Equestria was someone else’s job.” “And what about where that creepy unicorn was coming from?” Rainbow asked. “Yanno, the place we sent Twi and Pinkie and the rest?” “It’s called the Barrens and it’s…” ...where Tia banished the sand drakes, rocs, Maredusa, and… Luna suddenly felt her heart constrict. ...the changelings. “...oh no…” she breathed. Rainbow swallowed. “Um… ‘oh no’? Like, the ‘oh no, we’re bucked’ kind of ‘oh no’?” Instead of answering, Luna turned away, her mind racing. Ametys couldn’t still be alive… not even their queens can live for a thousand years no matter how well-loved. So perhaps a daughter… maybe a granddaughter or great-granddaughter… assuming the monarchy is still intact… assuming the Royal House lives… “Yer Majesty? Hey, Luna?” ...assuming their race didn’t die in that empty waste, didn’t become changed by it, isn’t still holding a grudge over the exile, and would actually resist a stranger coming to them and offering them a way back to their rightful home… Magenta eyes were suddenly an inch away from hers, framed by an unruly rainbow mane. “What. The buck. Is wrong?” Rainbow demanded. “I think I know why Lashaal was coming from the Barrens,” Luna said heavily, “and why these invaders would be interested in it.” “Maredusa?” “No.” Luna turned away from Rainbow and her intense gaze. “Rainbow, I fear that I and my sister have not always been as good and wise as we are now. Many… mistakes have happened in the past, some of them regrettable but harmless, some of them regrettable and serious, some of them quite foolish indeed.” “Like Maredusa?” “No, Maredusa’s sentence was just,” Luna said. “Others however…” She trailed off with a sigh. “I don’t think this is the time or place, Rainbow. You got directions here from Lashaal, correct?” “Yeah, so?” “So she strikes me as the kind of… whatever she is to eavesdrop and while I will speak of past mistakes to you, I don’t want her hearing them.” Rainbow looked pensive for a moment before nodding. “OK, makes senses. Don’t suppose it makes much difference to point out that I left her behind?” “I think she can portal the way Spite can; it’s the only way she could have traveled fast enough to have earned the trust of the griffins before we arrived,” Luna replied. “And since she knew where to point you…” “...she knows where to ‘port,” Rainbow finished. “Kay, I’ll drop it but one  last question: this bad thing… something that’s gonna bite us in the plot immediately?” “No,” Luna said. “If this bad thing is indeed bad, the signs of it ‘biting us in the plot’, as you put it, would be impossible not to notice.” “And what signs will those be, yer Majesty?” Lashaal’s voice asked from what appeared to be empty air. “That ye do not wish me to hear ye speak of this ist… interesting but strange.” “Don’t play stupid, Lashaal,” Luna frowned in the direction the voice came from. “You know why I’d be wary of giving you anything of use or interest. Spite may not have told me much about you, but she was hunting you for a reason, and I fear that reason was very good.” “Of course it was very good: she had been told to,” Lashaal replied calmly. “She ist a creature of duty, and obligation, and predation, and I am the prey she was given.” She paused a beat. “It ist still very interesting and strange that ye wish for me to remain ignorant of these ‘signs’ that there ist great danger.” “If there was danger to you, Lashaal, I’ve no doubt you’d know it and be fleeing it.” Luna sighed. “I suppose there’s no harm in this, however. But this will be an exchange: you shall tell me of this structure and how you knew of it, and I shall tell you what signs to watch for.” “A bargain.” Lashaal’s voice practically burst with honest pleasure. “Yes, a bargain would be wonderful. And I agree to yours: knowledge for knowledge. What do you wish of me?” “So this place’s a lab, huh?” Rainbow asked as they walked with Lashaal, knowing that the pretended pony was there only because her hoofsteps were audible. Lashaal had stubbornly refused to drop the concealment spell, and Luna hadn’t pressed it since now that she knew the mare was there, she could sense the magic of her spell and thus her. “Sure don’t look like Twi’s lab.” “Twilight Sparkle maintains a laboratory?” Lashaal asked curiously. “Yeah, full of blinkin’ lights and books and other egghead stuff,” the prismatic pegasus asserted. The false unicorn grunted thoughtfully before continuing down the dusty corridor they were walking through. “So machines, but no experiments? No test subjects?” “Experiments with potions, I guess.” Rainbow’s eyes narrowed and she looked hard at the direction of Lashaal. “Whatcha mean, test subjects?” “Those griffin abominations,” Luna said before Lashaal could. “What they, or I guess he, did to Gilda. The giant cloud of creatures. The tentacled things under the sand.” “Those aren’t test subjects, those are successes,” Lashaal corrected her calmly. “The test subjects are the raw material that goes into the successes. He would hardly be called ‘Master’ if he had not mastered his art.” Luna could barely stop her stomach twisting slightly at the utterly calm matter-of-fact tone that Lashaal adopted. These living things, these people, are just objects to her, she realized. And again, Selune, how does any of this surprise you? Her inner voice chided with a touch of sadness. Don’t you remember how I was initially? The reminder made her shiver involuntarily; to say that Nacht was cold-blooded when their partnership had first gone into effect was understating things quite a bit. Numbers mattered to her, victory mattered to her, strategy and tactics and success all mattered to her… but ponies didn’t. It’d caused considerable ranchor between them, and proved without question that for all her ancient power, Nacht was still a guest and had only as much autonomy as Luna consciously allowed. “So he became known as ‘Master’ because he’s a heedless butcher who pulls wings off butterflies and calls it ‘experiments’,” she commented dryly. “To each their own,” Lashaal voice seemed to shrug. “Thus far, ye have asked only this place’s purpose, hardly the price of what I would ask of ye.” “Then tell us what is contained here,” Luna told her. “What experiments are housed, and what is their purpose?” “This is where the weapons are made,” Lashaal said. “The sand-worms, the behemoth beast of a thousand pieces, the pale imitation of his greatest masterpiece, a…” “The big swarm-thing?” Rainbow interrupted. “Yes,” Lashaal confirmed. “It is a… lesser success. Far greater is the melding of griffins with the Void, weaving the airless and cold material of the nothingness to a living thing without killing it. It’s really quite the accomplishment, you see…” Luna decided to tune out the sudden excited babbling of their companion and let her own magical senses reach out to the area around them with much less focus than she’d used when examining the portal door. She flinched slightly as the buzz of powerful runic magic assaulted her from all sides, before she gritted her teeth and forced herself to endure the surge for the moment until her subconcious began to turn the noise into something coherent that she could make sense of. Nearest spell to me is… a preservation spell, not at all unusual. She said to herself as she walked, being able to walk and seem to follow conversation while deep in thought a well-practiced ability. And of course there’s the spel that creates a portal, layed on top of one that backlashes against magical attack. Ahead is a backlash combined with a trigger that uses balefire against a magical source. Various imprisonment runs, meant to ground out and confine magic, and… Abruptly, her mind ground to a halt and on pure instinct, her magical senses narrowed to something ahead and to her right, overlaying a blank wall. No… She was barely aware of pushing Rainbow and Lashaal aside and putting her hoof up against the wall. No… no, no, no… “Hey, Luna! What’s up?” Rainbow asked, poking a shoulder. Luna ignored her and turned towards Lashaal, stepping towards her and looming over the place where her senses said the unicorn was. “What is that?” she demanded, pointing at the blank wall. Lashaal went silent a moment, and Luna could practically hear the gears of her mind turning as she decided precisely how to answer. “A… blank wall, yer…” “Do not lie to me, Lashaal,” Luna growled. “Layered misdirection, disregard, concealment, camouflage, and imitation spells tied at their apex by a force spell to stabilize. I’d know that runic signature anywhere, but I’ve only seen this combination in one place.” “What place might that be, Princess Luna?” Lashaal asked, the innocence in her tone too strong to be sincere. “Twi’s room.” The two of them looked over at the pegasus at the whispered realization. “Doesn’t she live in a…?” Rainbow ignored Lashaal and looked at Luna, dumbfounded. “It’s like Twi’s room, isn’t it? The one in the castle.” “Yes,” Luna confirmed, channeling magic through her horn, beginning to build the magical structure for a dispel around the silvery ethereal light. “In fact, it’s exactly the same spell. Duplicated very precisely. Which means I know exactly how to take it apart.” Complex runic magic like the spell hiding the room was distinct for how long-lasting it was--but also how incredibly fragile when you knew how to unravel it. The dispel barely needed to touch it before it disintegrated in several crackling pops, revealing a door… which was as fastidiously duplicated as the spell hiding the room. She heard a sound of surprise from Rainbow and knew that the mare had recognized it just as surely as she had. She frowned at the door. “This cannot be possible. How can a room that I know is at the castle be here as well? I think you owe me an…” She stopped as she abruptly felt concealment spell and Lashaal’s magical presence vanish. “Ponyfeathers!” “She run off?” “I believe so…” Luna’s brow furrowed. “Right after I dispelled the concealment, actually…” There was a pregnant pause. “Ya thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” “That she seemed more worried about getting away than getting her answers?” Luna shook her head. “Yes. But why…?” She focused her magical senses on the door and the room beyond and felt nothing. No magical traps, no containment spells, no magical presence… nothing. Luna took a breath and let it out. I know there’s a reason Lashaal left right then. To make me uncertain about opening the door? To stay clear when whatever’s in the room jumps me? For that matter, how the hay did ‘Master’ perfectly duplicate an enchantment he could not possibly have seen in operation? You’re still assuming you know how long ‘Master’ has been working, her mental voice pointed out to her. He could well have been around before the Guardian ever showed its hand, quietly waiting until all was in place. The thought chilled her, but she put it aside; there were more immediate matters on hoof. “I don’t feel any magical danger from inside,” she told her companion. “That said, keep your eyes open and as alert as you can.” “Gotcha, Luna,” Rainbow nodded, crouching into a more ready position as Luna reached out with her magic and gripped the handle on the door. A quick movement down, a pull, and the interior of the room was revealed: it was the exact same. Hoofmade bookshelves, a crb, little dresses, the dolls of herself and her sister, even the wrinkles in the bedding of the crib… it was the empty room, duplicated as if from a photograph. “What… what is this…?” Luna nearly whispered, stepping over the threshold, stuck between awe at the exactness of the detail, and abject horror that ‘Master’ had somehow obtained enough intelligence to made a fine examination of an extremely restricted room, including a series of concealment magicks that she’d broken before entering the room. “A perfect replica… why?” “Better question: how the hay’d this ‘Master’ get a look at the place?” Rainbow said. “I mean, I don’t got Twi’s head for magic but I’m pretty sure ya can’t just wish for it and it happens. Gotta be some kinda spell, right?” “Yes,” Luna agreed, stepping over to the crib and gently levitating the doll made to look like her. “A manner of spell I can’t even imagine. It would have to be incredibly powerful but impossibly subtle, strong enough for Master to examine everything as if he was there while staying completely concealed for I and my sister. I can’t… I mean, I don’t mean to boast but Tia and I are… well…” “Like some sorta goddesses, right?” Rainbow filled in. “Well, yes, that would be fair,” Luna nodded, exchanging the doll for the one of Celestia, marveling at how exact the duplication of the original was. “I don’t think I’m any kind of deity, mind you.” She put the doll down and looked around the room, noting how it was totally clean but for a small decorated mirror hanging above a small changing table. Curious, she approached the mirror and looked more closely at it. It’d had sandpaper applied to the reflective surface. Narrowing her eyes at the deliberate deviation from the otherwise exact duplication, Luna looked down at the finished surface of the changing table, which she remembered being able to faintly reflect the face of a pony leaned over it… which was also sandpapered. “What’s wrong with that mirror?” Rainbow asked, stepping into the room with Luna. “Rainbow… check the toy box over there,” Luna answered, gesturing to the small hoof-carved box. “Do any of the toys look like they had sandpaper applied to them?” “Lemme check.” There was the sound of rummaging and the clank of wooden and metal toys being pulled out and dropped on the carpeted floor. “Just a toy mirror and the button eyes of a doll,” she reported. Someone went through and destroyed all the reflective surfaces systematically. Luna realized as she took a step back. “Rainbow Dash, we need to leave. This room…” “...is a prison, precious,” a familiar voice came from the doorway. “Looks like you dweebs stumbled into something you’re not supposed ta.” Luna gritted her teeth and channeled magic into her horn as she turned to look at the Void-shaped corruption of Gilda Grimfeathers. The creature was standing there but curiously, her eyes were averted from Luna’s and her head turned slightly away, but the corner of her muzzle made it clear she was smirking. “Thou survived Our chastisement,” she noted. “Gilly-girl’s got a head full of how to be fast,” Grimfeathers shrugged. “Useful little minx, sort of annoying when she’s thinkin’ that yelling will make me listen, fun to keep around because I never need to look to find someone to torment. Speakin’ of torment… yo, smilin’ filth, how do ya like the playthings?” Luna blinked and looked at Rainbow before frowning at Grimfeathers. “Excuse me?” “Ain’t talkin’ to ya, Nightmare, or you Dashie.” Grimfeathers’ smirk faded a little. “Hey! I said how do ya like the playthings, you smilin’ piece of shit?” There was silence and Grimfeathers lost the smirk completely. “Oh, you’d better not be fucking with me, smiles. You’re not as high on the totem pole as you think you are, so I can totally ream your ass and get a treat for it ta boot. Answer me.” “Grim, ain’t no one here but two ponies who’re about to kick your furry plot into next century,” Rainbow growled as she advanced on the mutate. Grimfeathers went strangely still for a moment before finally raising her head and looking at them, her expression stuck between confused and very slightly worried. “Zambet, you will speak, and speak that they can hear as well. You know that you must obey.” “Yanno what? I don’t care who Zambet is.” Rainbow snorted as she stepped in on Grimfeathers. “Pucker up, bucker.” “Oh please, you think your…” Grimfeathers was cut off mid-scoff by Rainbow planting a haymaker right in the center of her face, and it was immediately apparent that Rainbow wasn’t just a supremely talented pegasus anymore, because the blow threw Grimfeathers head over tail into the wall behind her. Grimfeathers had a split second to look utterly shocked before a burst of Rainbow’s signature speed drove another hoof into her, enough that Luna could hear something snap, and Rainbow followed it with one of the downward wing-strokes she’d used when she’d been fighting the mutated griffons in the air. Another blow, another wet snap, another sweep and a blow to follow it. “ENOUGH!” Luna’s view of what exactly Grimfeathers did was blocked by the enraged pegasus beating her but suddenly, Rainbow sailed passed her and smashed into the changing table, demolishing it. Grimfeather came to her feet, eyes glowing red and grimacing as she held a visibly broken arm. “I swear if I didn’t have bigger fish to fry, I’d fuck you up good ‘Dashie’,” she snarled, wincing as she sat on her haunches and began to carefully maneuver the snapped limb straight. “I’m impressed as hell with the entire flipped switch but your timing blows.” The contrast between the sneering, taunting, sadistic mutate they’d met in the desert and the snarling but restrained one straightening her broken arm at the entrance to the room was a stark one, and Luna eyed her as she leaned down to check on the unconscious Rainbow Dash. “What, no malicious taunting, Grimfeathers?” she snorted as she noted the unnatural angle of the pegasi’s wings. “Bigger fish ta fry,” Grimfeathers responded. “Like, size of a fucking whale bigger fish to fry. I ain’t hearin’ anyone but us three, and that ain’t good.” “Zambet?” “Oooh, give the pony a gold star,” Grimfeather growled sharply as she apparently set the bone of her arm. “I ain’t kiddin’ about this bein’ a prison, precious, and I notice that this prison ain’t got a prisoner no more, and that’s more kinds of bad than you can imagine.” Luna enfolded Rainbow in a field of magic and carefully levitated her to examine her wings. As she feared, the high-velocity impact with the changing table had snapped both. Snapped them cleanly, but they were clearly broken. “You’re scared out of your mind, aren’t you?” There was a somewhat startled silence at this before Grimfeathers snorted. “How’d ya guess?” “You’re a wicked beast allied with this ‘Master’,” Luna said, straightening the wings and levitating pieces of the changing table to her view so she could select ones that would work well for splints. “You have what any minion of Master would do anything for: an enemy you cannot hope to even lay claws on distracted and with her back to you. A foe you have a beef with, I believe the term is, because she hurt you last you met. And yet you stand there and heal yourself. Only abject fear explains this.” There was another long pause from behind, long enough that Luna had begun securing the splints with strips ripped from the crib bedding, before Grimfeathers spoke in a subdued and very serious tone. “Luna, ya ain’t got a clue what Master caged in this place. Dun know where he picked the thing up… didn’t even know they existed before he got one. Stuff of horror stories, even among evils.” She paused. “And that ain’t the worst thing, ain’t even in the top ten. Worst thing is, Master is way too good at makin’ monsters worse.” “Why this room, though?” Luna asked, finishing one wing and starting on the next. “Why duplicate the room of a foal, right down to the intricate stitching on her dolls and the concealment spells on her door?” “Zambet already has power an’ sadism,” the mutate said. “Master stuck it here to get smarts, and give it a scent. Somethin’ about the...” Luna froze mid-wrap and turned to stare at Grimfeathers, not bothering to keep the horrified look off her face. “Whose scent?” she managed. “Whoever lived here, I guess,” the hybrid shrugged. “Bet the slimy little coward who got her lips attached to yer plot knew though. Stupid as fuck and a sniveling little rat, but she had a fast tongue. Shoulda ripped it out…” Luna took a breath and forced herself to finish the wrapping. “So Lashaal knew what was in here and said nothing.” “Prolly thought Smiley’d eat ya and she could get a pat on the head for bein’ a good dog.” Grimfeathers frowned. “Really, sorta surprised it didn’t. Yeah, it can’t get in yer head without a mirror or somethin’ that reflects yer entire face, but it has a special love for beating down the strong to make itself feel superior… and the two of ya are damn strong.” She rubbed her formerly-broken leg for illustration. “How sophisticated is this prison?” Luna asked as she tied off the last of the splints. “I noticed no wards or runic magic when I entered. Nor did I sense any before I did.” Grimfeathers shrugged as she walked over to Luna’s side, moving with no difficulty as if she’d never been injured by Rainbow. “Ask a magic dweeb, I’m just big mean muscle.” “I happen to be, as you say, a ‘magic dweeb’,” Luna smirked a little before grimacing. “I guess it doesn't matter how it got out… how do we find it?” “Hell if I know.” Grimfeathered grimaced. “Gotta have special kinda sight ta see it when it’s not in someone’s head. In fact, pretty much how Master grabbed it: baited it with a minon then dragged it out kickin’ in screamin’. Best way ta do it, but ya prolly don’t wanna pay the price, right?” “Not if it’s Twi,” Rainbow said from where Luna had leaned her against the crib, her eyes still closed. “Just barely got ‘er back.” Grimfeathers frowned. “Twi?” “Twilight Sparkle,” Luna clarified. “My…” “Wait, wait, wait… this room belonged to Twilight Sparkle?” The altered griffin gaped at her. “Like, the fucking ringleader of th’ Elements? Master sent Smiley after that Twilight Sparkle?” “It seems more accurate to say that Lashaal sent it after my niece,” Luna said dryly. “Master appears to have caged it in anticipation of the chance to use it.” “Ugh,” Grimfeathers rubbed her temples with her claws. “Witless cunt prolly had no idea what Master had in mind, prolly didn’t care. First the klesae, now Zambet… it’s like she thinks she can grab the prize herself.” “The Game?” “Yeah, the fucking Game.” Grimfeathered growled. “Dash?” Rainbow glared at her in response. “Ya hate me,” she said bluntly. “Good for you, yer supposed to. But I’m gonna do something really, really stupid here and give ya an assist. Unlike the little webweaver bitch, I’ll tell ya straight: I ain’t yer friend, I’m a mean cunt, and we’re playin’ allies ‘till we have Smiley back in a cage and then all bets are off. Ya got me?” Rainbow eyed her without saying anything for a minute before smirking. “Gilda must be yellin’ pretty loud… ya sounded just like her right there.” Grimfeathers gave her a sour look, but Luna caught a brief and fleeting gleam of pride in the hard gold eyes. ”Heh, dream on Dashie,” she scoffed. “Gilda ain’t in control, I am.” “Yeah, which is why ya sounded just like the griffin that ain’t in control, right?” Rainbow rolled to her feet and looked back at the splints. “Hey Luna, why’re my wings tied up?” “They broke when Grimfeathers threw you off of her,” Luna replied. “My facility with healing spells is not quite what my sister’s is, so I had to immobilize the injury.” “Ya musta set ‘em pretty good, cuz they don’t feel broken,” Rainbow wiggled one of the splints. “That’s the point,” Luna said wryly before looking at Grimfeathers. “So you’ll assist us. What sort of assistance can you give?” “I’m higher on the totem pole, so if I order it ta talk, it has ta stop ‘n’ reply,” Grimfeathers responded. “And Master brags like a champ, an’ I’ve been around him long enough ta hear it all.” “So you’re offering us knowledge of Master and this Zambet.” “‘Bout the size of it, yeah.” “Which is largely what Lashaal did.” Luna narrowed her eyes at Grimfeathers. “Once burned, twice wary.” Grimfeathers seemed unmoved. “Be wary, see if I care,” she shrugged. “Lashaal lies and plays with truth; that’s her schtick. I’m a big, strong, thug with a mean streak; that’s my schtick. I ain’t much ta a goddess, Princess, but I ain’t got a reason ta be scared of anyone or anythin’ else. Lashaal needs lies cuz anyone can squish her and she knows it; I don’t cuz they can’t.” “Dunno… I lit ya up pretty good, and I was too mad to be fighting smart,” Rainbow pointed out. Grimfeathers rolled her eyes. “Cuz ya got a hand from Ein, ya dweeb. Not even the earth ponies got the hittin’ power to beat me down, normally.” Both of them blinked at her. “Ein?” “Yeah, Einspithiana.” She looked between them. “Ya… didn’t know her given name?” “She just told us to call her ‘Spite’.” Luna gave her a thoughtful look. “You use a diminutive for her.” “A diminu-what?” “Shortened name, like ‘Twi’,” Rainbow said before Luna could. Then she gave Grimfeathers a thoughtful look that was practically a mirror of Luna’s. “...which we all use cuz Twilight is our friend...” Grimfeathers looked abruptly uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah, no sale,” she said a little too quickly, turning around. “C’mon, burnin’ daylight, Smiley gettin’ ta play while we’re sittin’ around, chop chop.” “What would you prefer that we call you?” Luna asked as she followed the hybrid out, Rainbow flanking her and moving slowly to avoid jostling her wings too much. Grimfeathers glanced at Luna with an odd expression. “What do you mean, what do I want ya to call me?” “Oster and Esper told us that you’re called ‘Grimfeathers’ for mockery,” Luna said. “So long as you are doing us no ill, I see no reason to mock you.” “Grymmilnia,” Grimfeathers said after a pause. “Wasn’t a big leap ta call me ‘Grimfeathers’ instead.” “Clearly.” Luna sighed. “So where would this Zambet go?” “Mirrors,” Rainbow said. “Master ruined all the reflections and Zambet likes getting in heads, yeah? So wherever there’s mirrors.” “Ya catch on quick, Dashie,” Grymmilnia chuckled. “Yeah, wherever there’s a mirror, off Smiley goes. Part of why Master set up here: sunlight burns the little shit and the nearest mirror’s way the hell off one way.” Luna grimaced as she did a quick check of her mental clock. “Does it fear the night at all?” “Naw, it loves the…” Grymmilnia dropped her head. “Lemme guess… ‘bout time for moonlight?” “I fear so,” Luna admitted. “I do apologize but this duty isn’t up for debate. I could no more refuse to carry it out than I could saw off my horn. If it helps, though….the chastisement I attempted to inflict on you is but a tickle compared with the strength I have under the light of my moon.” “Heh… so 12 hours of super-Luna, huh?” the nightmare laughed, genuinely laughed. “Damn shame it ain’t gonna snag us a Smiley, but I’m sorta stoked. Ya need ta see sky for it?” “Yes.” She actually didn’t--it helped but wasn’t required--but however crudely honest Grymmilnia seemed, she couldn’t trust the nightmare with what she had planned. Before setting out, she had Twilight had worked out a way to pass messages: Luna with constellations and magic weaves that could only be seen with mage-sight, Twilight by using a simple (for her) harmonic spell to project messages from a mirror she was carrying to a… polished gemstone. “Grymmilnia, how large of a reflective surface does Zambet need?” “Big enough that ya can see yer whole face in the reflection clearly,” she replied. “Just thought ya might be carryin’ somethin’ Smiley can use, huh?” “As I seem to be responsible for it getting loose...” “Ya ain’t,” Grymmilnia interrupted. “Zambet is dangerous, an’ ya don’t put dangerous in glass boxes. I ain’t a rune magic genius but I know the prison is pretty fucking stable an’ robust. Ya need a key ta crack the locks, an’ lil miss webweaver prolly had it somehow. Anyway, here’s a hole for ya.” “Thank you.” Luna stepped passed the nightmare, looked up, and furrowed her brow. The sun is… still high. She noted. It should be well on its way to the west by now. Perhaps something is restraining Tia…? With a tiny mental shrug, Luna lit her horn and reached out to the massive celestial body, delicately running her power over its aura as she prepared to ease it on its way. Moving the sun was a more complicated process than moving the moon, as the aura of the sun was constantly waxing and waning, flowing and fluctuating, rippling with searing heat and untapped power, and to properly grasp and guide it required being able to first suppress it. Tia knew each tremble like the back of her hoof and could compensate without a thought; for Luna, it required much more concentration. Except this time. This time, the sun was very tame, it fluctuations barely ripples, as if all that writhing and roiling power was being drawn off of it. Nudging it along its appointed route was almost too easy, and Luna frowned as she guided the fiery orb. It feels… wrong somehow. It’s as if the fire is being channeled. But what could Tia be doing with this much power? She didn’t even draw it like this when she was in the grasp of her nightmare self, not even when we were crushing the Guardian. With a mental effort, she shoved aside the gnawing sense that something had gone very, very wrong and pushed the sun slowly and carefully over the western horizon. The actual work done, she let herself smile a little as she reached for her moon, finding it in its appointed place, drifting quietly and placidly in the darkness beyond the east. There was a time that her moon was an object of duty, connected to her but remote. Being sent there for a thousand years changed everything in that regard, and now the connection was intimate and instrictive, and guiding her moon through the sky empowered her instead of requiring any sort of effort. “Geeze, she’s really inta this moon-movin’ thing…” Grymmilnia commented in a hushed voice. “Eh, I fly, Lashaal lies, she moves the moon,” Rainbow replied. “It’s her schtick.” “Hey, I like what I do but she looks like she’s gettin’ some.” Luna almost lost her grasp at the comment and a snort from Rainbow as the pegasus struggled not to snicker. She looked over at the nightmare, who gave her a cheeky grin, before she smiled and went back to moving her moon. You always have visibly enjoyed your job, Selune, her mental voice said with a tone of familiar fondness. Anyone who cares to see it can, and Grymmilnia clearly does. After a minute of movement, her moon finally came into view, large, silvery, and radiant with cool and subtle energy. Luna closed her eyes and sighed happily as the caressing power washed over her like a cool breeze in hot summer, washing away worry and cares and making her feel alive to a degree she never attained during daylight. “Princess Luna?” Luna opened her eyes and looked down upon Grymmilnia. “Hate ta break up the special moment and all, but we’ve sorta got a Zambet ta hunt.” “Of course, forgive me,” Luna smiled at her before raising her eyes to the night sky. letting them drift closed. A constellation of the bell so that Twilight knows we’re well, she said to herself, plucking stars from the firmament and nudging them into place. And the symbol of the lash, as we agreed, but wavering so she’ll be wary. But now for the magic weave… hmm… Warn her specifically of Zambet, Selune, that inner voice suggested. For it hunts Twilight now, and it was but six months ago that she was returned to us. Luna mentally gave her inner voice a curt nod and wove the magic as the voice suggested. “It is done,” she said to Rainbow and Grymmilinia, opening her eyes and looking down at them. “You know this creature’s habits, Grymmilnia?” “‘Bout as well as anyone.” “Then lead the way; it’s been a long time since I last put down a monster.”