//------------------------------// // Chapter 14: Cavatina // Story: Eternal Night // by Lucaro //------------------------------// Dressed in the fine livery such formal restaurants demanded from their classy clientele, he felt especially at home. Arcturus had his mane dyed black and slicked back, his azure pelt gleaming alongside his silk shirt. He was standing next to his lovely mare-friend, her blue mane glossy, neatly tied into a bun and resting underneath a net of pearls. She looked splendid. He had brought her a fine white dress, a sapphire necklace that matched her eyes, and had arranged a beauty session for her. Arcturus intended for this to be a first date she would remember for the rest of her life. Arcturus nuzzled her, sensing her discomfort as they idled in front of the marble steps of the Lunaria Cantina. “Come now, my lovely Morning Glory.” He took her hoof into his and kissed it. “You’ll fit right in among the other socialites.” Morning smiled, radiance blooming in her features that had earned her the sobriquet of a beautiful flower. “You are such a gentlecolt, Arcturus.” She blushed prettily. “It was so nice of you to take me here.” “It’s a pleasure. It’ll be a great opportunity to get to know each other, and simultaneously enjoy the sophisticated company of like-minded fellows.” Arcturus led her up the steps and they both stood before a bouncer to have their attire appraised. The stallion nodded, and gestured to the red sign on the door. “Before I let you in, I must inform you of the policy. No Dayborns allowed. We run a classy establishment, and won’t have such rabble within our midst.” “Well good sir, we obviously are not in the company of such ponies,” Arcturus said, mustering all the politeness he could. The bouncer nodded and opened the door for them. Arcturus allowed Morning to enter first, and followed behind. He was immediately met by the cool air of the interior, and could hear what he recognized to be the opening notes of On the Beautiful Blue Danube being played by the live orchestra. Arcturus stood by his mare-friend as they waited to be seated. The Lunaria Cantina had a large domed roof that was adorned with a mural depicting Nightmare Moon and glowed with a soft blue aura that lent the dining area with a sober atmosphere. Waiters in tuxedos held platters in their hooves, lighting the candles at each table, and taking orders from the most affluent ponies in the city. A waiter stallion with an impressive mustache and a lilted accent introduced himself. “I am Varen, and I will be taking care of you tonight. Come with me.” They were seated in a secluded area beside a sparkling fountain surrounded by fake foliage, statues of Nightmare Moon and other figures related to her. “It’s a lovely rendition of our Empress,” Arcturus noted to both the waiter and his date, gesturing to the grand statue. “Very impressive.” They both sat down at the table, and the waiter lit their candles with his horn. Varen trotted away then, fetching their drinks and bread. Arcturus then noticed the way Morning was looking at him. Her initial shyness gone, she had a feisty and flirtatious smirk on her face. “Are you trying to buy my love, Master Arcturus?” “Oh, ho,” Arcturus said. “True love can’t be brought,” he winked at her. “Besides, this opulence comes within the package of dating a Night Terror.” Varen returned with their drinks. He poured them champagne in their glasses, and put a bowl of wheat bread and butter before them. He then handed them menus and went off to serve other ponies. There was a lull in the conversation as Morning spread butter on her bread, and it was then when the orchestra simmered down, and was replaced with the soft plucking notes of Cavatina. It was a simple piece, but extraordinarily poignant. Morning made a huffing sound, laughing softly. Arcturus turned his face away from the music and turned to her. “Is something humorous, my dear?” “Oh, it was the dreamy look you had in your eyes.” She giggled again. “You really like the orchestra, don’t you?” “Of course, Cavatina is a classic. I grew up in this city listening to musicians playing such music.” Morning nodded, taking a sip of her champagne. “Oh, so you’ve lived here your entire life? You have a strange accent for that, but I guess I can’t really speculate as to how the ‘other half’ speaks.” Arcturus grinned. “I was raised by two immigrant doctors. They spoke this way, and I guess I do too.” He raised his hooves, gesturing to her. “Enough about me, tell me of your upbringing.” She suddenly got a solemn look on her face. “It wasn’t a happy upbringing, I’ll tell you that.” Arcturus touched her hoof, and looked into her eyes, empathizing with her. Morning was encouraged, and continued. “My parents had a nasty divorce. I can’t remember a time when they weren’t fighting. They often vented their frustrations on me.” Arcturus nodded. “It’s all right,” he moved to wipe her tears with the edge of a napkin. “We all suffer, but we recover.” They both nodded at the evident truth of the words, but he felt like she needed further consoling. “You know, I too have suffered at the hooves of the ponies I have loved.” “Really?” she said. She quickly recomposed herself, and there was no sign that she had ever cried. “What happened to you?” “Well, I…” Arcturus gasped, a splinter of pain needling through his mind. Morning looked at him with concern in her eyes, and leaned forward, but Varen appeared with their food. He set the platters down before them, refilled their champagne, and left. Arcturus drained his glass, the alcohol dulling his headache. He felt a hoof touching his, and looked up at Morning. Her blue eyes were sparkling, a sad smile on her face. “I promise I will never hurt you like that.” He smiled, poured himself more champagne, and raised it in a toast. “A vow,” he declared. “To a happy relationship.” She raised her glass and clinked it against his. “To a happy relationship.” They both drunk the champagne, and as the hours passed, they grew increasingly fond of each other. Laughter constantly issued from their throats, words of praise, encouragement, sympathy, it all poured out. As far as first dates go, this one had been blessed by Nightmare Moon herself. Sirius groaned, Darkheart pinning his hooves down. The captain rolled his eyes, “C’mon, initiate. Ember may oversee your Night Terror specialization, but you’re still a soldier, and as a soldier, you must meet certain fitness benchmarks.” Sirius completed another sit-up with great effort, his stomach burning. “One more,” Darkheart said. He completed another grueling sit-up, and collapsed on the ground. Darkheart released his hold, and let Sirius catch his breath. He trotted away, opening the door to his apartment. But before he left, he looked back at Sirius lying on the floor in a puddle of his own sweat. “Get some more protein in your diet, and maybe you’ll look more like a mature stallion instead of a lanky adolescent.” Darkheart closed the door behind him, and Sirius lay there. Heat was radiating from his body, but he could feel it particularly in his forehead. It felt good. He struggled to get back up, his hooves trembling. Sirius managed to make his way to his bathroom and plunked himself down in his already drawn bath. Sapphire was waiting for him there, and as he settled in the warm water, she began to rub his back. He closed his eyes and leaned back, and Sapphire began to hum. She seemed especially happy today. She began to massage his shoulders, and kissed him behind the ear. Sirius opened his eyes and looked up at her for a moment, then looked back down. He wondered to himself, exactly what were the boundaries of Sapphire’s service to him? The first time they had met, when he had awoken beside her after a night of drinking, she had been surprisingly tender with him. Was she supposed to be so intimate with him? Sirius, for the life of him, could not remember if he had actually had sex with her or not. If he had lost his virginity to her, he at least wanted to remember what it felt like. He sneaked a glance at her, and wondered how she would respond if he asked her to join him in the sauna. He didn’t know what frightened him more: the risk of being denied and offending her, or her actually taking up the offer. Sirius had been thinking of this more frequently than he would like to admit. He had decided that he would at least take her on a few dates before he asked her for sex. Sirius couldn’t think of that anymore. Having erotic thoughts naked and in her presence was courting disaster. Instead, he thought about the pony he had dubbed the “Glass Stallion.” It was his journal and notes he had found behind his bathroom’s mirror. He had learned many things about Glass’ life. Sirius had been reminded of himself as he read the beginning parts of the journal. A bastard born between some noble in Nightmare Moon’s court and his mistress, Glass has been given up to an orphanage in the city. Neglected and lonely, until one day he showed talent in Dreamwalking. Sirius looked up, making a mental note to himself. Glass’ background was written in very poor detail, as if he had struggled to remember the events that took place. Glass had written that whoever had slept with him got strange dreams, so one of his caretakers had assessed him. The account had then skipped to Glass’ initiation. Nightmare Moon herself had appeared before him. Glass had somehow resisted her will, and it had become apparent to her that he was a Dreamwalking prodigy. Glass had been a remarkably good pony until then. Kindness was his dominant trait. After he had fought her off, he had been roughly awoken from his sleep. The Empress’ surgeons had done something terrible to him then. After that, Glass had become a murderous psychopath, as was intended, and grew worse as he ascended the Night Terror hierarchy. He went to the very top, right alongside Nightmare Moon. It’s so odd, Sirius thought. How does a pony that was so good before degenerate so quickly? But apparently that was common, not only in the Night Terrors, but in all branches of the Empress’ military. And then Glass had done something terrible. Right afterwards, he had been severely injured where he received a terrible concussion. It was then where he became self aware, and started to regret all the crimes he had committed. In his final words, it said: “I have finally seen my reflection. The mirror is both a lie and truth.” In the depths of Glass’ despair, the narrative had ended. There had been two extra parchment scraps with the red ink that Sirius had looked through as well. Apparently, the ink wasn’t ink. It was blood. The two parchments had detailed speculations inquiring about the mechanism Nightmare Moon had used to turn him into a villain, and then it tried to explain how his concussion had alleviated it. Apparently, Glass’ speculations were in vain. He never found out exactly what Nightmare Moon had done to him, and then the text went off on a rant about how she would always find a way to convert a Night Terror initiate into pure evil. Sirius had then inquired about the identity of the “Glass Stallion.” He had gone to the city’s libraries, and then to the Night Terror database. It was there Sirius found some old record books. He learned that every page, every article mentioning Glass’ existence had been ripped out of the records. He had then gotten suspicious looks from some of the bookkeepers there and had decided to leave. Nightmare Moon’s government had completely erased Glass from their archives. It was so strange. She didn’t want anypony finding out about him, or he had been disgraced, exiled, or even killed. Maybe all of the above. Sirius had then thought of himself. Glass had said that Nightmare Moon never failed to turn her Night terror initiates into evil. Sirius had done a self-check then. He looked at Sapphire smiling above him, looking at him with affection in her eyes. What have I done to make her like me so much? he thought. Sirius felt normal. But that was the catch. Glass hadn’t even known his own darkness until a violent concussion had opened his eyes. Reiterated, Glass hadn’t even realized what he was doing. He had described it as, “An inability to resist the influence of others.” Sirius wasn’t sure what that last part meant, but he knew one thing: Nightmare Moon always got what she wanted. Perhaps my initiation conversion had failed, he thought to himself. Maybe it had failed, and Ember hadn’t noticed it. He was still fully in control of himself. He was still his own, and that gave him hope. After finishing his bath, with a more than happy to help Sapphire, he laid down in his bed. Sirius realized how incredibly lucky he was to have avoided Glass’ fate. That feeling of gratefulness was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.