Chapter 2:Mare Undarum (Sea of Waves)
The gentle tinkling sound of magic filled the air, filaments of midnight blue coruscating their way up the spiral fluting of her horn as Luna levitated the brush before her. She had just finished sorting out her tail and mane and was commencing to bring her unruly forelock to order. Shafts of late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows behind her, casting long shadows through her chambers and leaving pools of darkness in the far corners of the room, but the alicorn paid the light no heed. Pattering about in her off-duty hours barehoofed was one thing, but the night approached, and Luna had a regular routine which she adhered to with fearful precision.
One did not simply toss celestial bodies about in the aether in one’s bedclothes.
The brush tilted and the princess winced as it momentarily caught on a tangle before pulling free. Several passes later and it glided smoothly over the deep cobalt coloring of her forelock, the tuft of fur between her ears shading from the light cyan coloring that had marked her mane and tail as a youth into a deeper blue-black near the center of her forehead. As the light in the room lessened, the low glimmering from her coat became more apparent, silver glints of light waxing and waning in the depths of her mane. The coloring was more pronounced in her tail, and she flicked it around her hocks, glancing down idly at it for a moment. Both she and her sister had sported solidly colored manes in their youth, their lack of highlights or other coloring making them almost bland compared with other ponies. As they had aged and come into the fullness of their duties, however, the coloration had changed slowly over the centuries, and the texture itself had altered, becoming less material and substantial as time had passed. The brush she used was proof enough of the change; she had enchanted it herself, as a normal brush would have simply passed directly through her mane at this point. She could touch her mane and tail herself, of course, as well as that of her sister, and it felt real enough to her, but she suddenly wondered if another pony would be able to. One of the guards, perhaps, or one of the servants who changed the linen.
Oh, just say it, she chastised herself. Thou speakest of a mortal pony. A normal pony. Art thou afraid to speak the words, even to thyself in the solitude of thy own quarters?
“No, we are not,” Luna growled, glaring at her own reflection. “A normal pony. One like all the others, those that live and die like moths drawn to a flame. Stars know we have seen enough of their dreams to know that life. Dost thou envy them that? Dost thou really?”
She suddenly found it troubling that should could not outright give an answer to that question. Her reflection stared back at her, the expression a mask, giving away nothing. Beside her, in the mirror, she could see the brush hovering just behind her left ear, glimmering in the cobalt grip of her magic. Snorting, she stared at it, half-accusingly.
“What about thou? What art thy feelings on the matter? Wouldst thou prefer something with more substance to part with thine bristles?” Her tone, mocking at first, hardened as she spoke. “Perhaps thou would prefer to clean the mud out of an earth pony’s mane instead. Somepony more common, more normal. Or perhaps my sister would suit thee better? T’would not surprise us in the least.”
The brush merely hovered there in her grip, mindlessly awaiting her whim, her next command. “If only others were as accommodating as thou, perhaps we would not be in such straits.” Her horn flared, and the brush flicked to the right side of her head. “‘What is thy command, o Princess?’” Luna said, her voice dropping to a lower register. “‘We await thy whim.’”
“Brush my mane once more. Carefully, this time.”
“‘As thou command, so shall it be.’” The brush flicked back and slowly drew down the length of her neck, her mane smoothing out once more beneath it as the winks of pseudo-starlight contained within flared more brightly at the touch. It made another pass, then stopped, hovering once more as the alicorn stared at her reflection again.
We are standing here having a conversation with our brush. Is this not forsooth the definition of pathetic?
Luna muttered to herself, the brush flipping over the top of her head and across the room to settle on the polished wooden surface of her dresser. A look in the mirror revealed that the warm colors outside the window had dulled to a low, sullen red. Sunset was upon the land, her sister would at this very moment be staring out of her own window, horn alight, guiding the fiery orb down to its resting place for the night. This was the age-old signal that her own duty now called, to bring on the night and the ascendance of the moon.
Turning, she paced across the room, opening the wide multi-paned double doors that fronted her own balcony on the northern side of the Castle of the Two Sisters. A cool evening breeze touched her face, one of those autumn breezes that hides the chill of winter deep within like a foal hiding a purloined bit of candy from a scolding adult. Almost imperceptibly, her ears perked up a bit more, and she lifted her head, muzzle questing at the breeze and inhaling another delicious lungful of the flavor. Luna had always found this time of year most attractive, the time of year when the days began getting slightly shorter and the nights grew slowly longer, but the bitterness of year’s end had not yet set upon the land. Her own powers seem to ebb and recede slightly, as the tides did at the behest of her beloved moon, and she was always more aware of them around this time of year. Tasks that formerly seemed difficult appeared to become much easier, and things that typically bothered her became trifles, easily dealt with and cast aside.
We should discuss this with our sister, she mused idly, watching as the sun sank slowly into the west, off to her left. Perhaps some sort of celebration, like some ponies do with the harvest-time. The idea that she would have to go over this with Celestia and get permission, like some commoner coming to the court hat in hoof to beg a boon disturbed her, but it was part of the price one paid for being half of a diarchy.
The rim of the sun glimmered on the horizon, and she shook the thought off for later. Right now, her time had come, and she immersed herself fully in the moment.
The delicately spiraled horn atop her brow flickered alight, the magic field colored teal around the tip of the horn, the same shade as the color of her eyes, but shading into a deeper cobalt blue where it touched her forehead. Luna sank deep into the magic, her eyes open but no longer seeing the land in front of her as her head turned reflexively to face the eastern horizon. If asked, she would have described her next action as feeling out the aether, as one might search for something in a darkened room for an object which one knew the general location of, but it went further than that. Luna knew where the moon was at any point, day or night, and she reached out confidently and found it exactly where it should be, poised just under the rim of the earth, waiting.
Come to me, my love. Your time is now.
The magic within her welled up, coursing through her body and focused at the tip of her horn, flicking out and caressing the silver orb which now began to peek over the horizon. Its immense weight filled her consciousness, and she beckoned it slowly, carefully, as an adult might cajole a small child who is just beginning to walk. Come to me.
It came, timidly at first, and then with more confidence as her aura stabilized itself around the surface of the far-off satellite. The sun and the moon would follow their own courses if left alone, and would blindly flail through the cosmos, bound by their own inertia and the gravitational forces inherent in their systems, but the princesses had long ago been bound with the task of guidance, of ensuring balance in the land under their care, not only of the sun and moon, but the ponies for which they were responsible. This was their primary task, their duty, but this particular one had long since outgrown being something as simple as a job to Luna. She had never taken a lover, had never had a foal of her own, but the moon was both to her, and more. The night was hers, her reason for being, and the moon represented all of that to the alicorn entrusted with its care.
Pushing gently, sometimes, cajoling, sometimes forcing, she brought the moon up until it was clear of the eastern horizon, the full orb gleaming down over the land and bathing it in silver highlights. The stars shone out fully now, chips of diamond in the ebon sky overhead, glittering in polished majesty in their carefully arranged constellations. Luna marked one that had been pushed slightly out of position and nudged it back carefully until it was once more properly aligned. The Royal Astronomical Society would have fits if I let that one move out of place. It marked the right shoulder of Starswirl the Bearded, a gifted unicorn which had been honored with his own place among the other legends of the night. It wouldn’t do if you started shrugging at us, would it?
Chuckling to herself, Luna released her grip on the moon and eyed it for several minutes until she was sure it was on its proper course. Nodding, she stepped back, the bright glow of her horn fading and collapsing in on itself until it was gone. The night was well started and underway. She would keep an eye on it, but unless something unexpected happened, all should be well for quite some time. Now, she had time for other matters.
Turning, she stepped back and moved off the balcony, pacing back into her rooms and shutting the doors behind her. “Guard!”
The door to her chambers opened and one of the golden-clad sentries that were always posted outside her door strode in. He stopped after entering and bowed his head dutifully. “Highness?”
Luna could not stop herself from smiling. “Ebon Storm. We art most pleased to see thou once again. Art thou assigned to us once more, or is our sister determined to steal thee away?”
The armored pegasus before her laughed, rubbing one foreleg self-consciously. “Princess Celestia did ask me to transfer to her detail, Your Grace, but I honestly don’t think I could deal with trying to get my body into that schedule. I’m really used to the night shift at this point.” He shrugged. “Besides, I like it.”
“Really?”
“It’s quiet,” he managed after a moment. “Day guards have a lot more hubbub to deal with, and if it’s up to me, I’d rather stick with the peace and quiet here.”
“We appreciate your awareness in this.” Luna sighed. “Unfortunately, we have a bit of ‘hubbub’ for thou to handle.” She blinked suddenly. “Did my sister compensate you appropriately?”
“Oh, yes, Your Grace. I’m your Captain of the Guard for the night shift.” The stallion straightened unconsciously, throwing the insignia on his breastplate into sharp detail. “As you will, so shall it be.”
“Cease,” Luna said, waving a forehoof at him. “Thy have proven thyself most admirably in the past. It is the least thou deserve.”
“You honor me, Your Grace.”
A dark blue aura appeared around the door, swinging it shut with a soft click. “Please, Storm. We have known thee since thou were a colt.” Luna’s muzzle twitched. “We would prefer if thou were not so formal, at least in private.”
“Yes, Princess.” Ebon Storm’s mouth twitched in amusement. “I’m just well aware that you do not approve of over familiarity. I’ve instructed the night guards as such, too.”
“That is acceptable. My sister seems to indulge in such behavior with her detail, but that is her prerogative, I suppose.”
“Bunch of slackasses,” Storm muttered, then clapped a hoof to his mouth immediately. “Apologies, Your Grace, I—”
Luna’s laughter bubbled up and burst forth, and the alicorn shook helplessly, tears of mirth squeezing out from under her eyelids. She staggered and leaned against her dresser, peals of laughter ringing out and filling the room. “I...I was not aware that...that was the current term for such b-b-behav…”
Ebon Storm’s expression was mortified. “Princess Luna, I apologize, I did not mean to be vulgar.”
“Oh, cease.” Luna giggled again, then drew herself up straight. “Storm, if nopony else, we do trust thee to be straightfoward with us. Please do not berate thyself for thine honesty. It is, if anything, refreshing to us.”
“V-Very well, Your Grace.”
“Storm, relax. We are not displeased with thee.” Luna took a moment to compose herself, then nodded at the guard captain. “We have a small task for thee, if thou wouldst accommodate us.”
“By all means.” The pegasus bowed, touching his chin to his extended foreleg. “Command me, Your Grace.”
“This may seem a trifling matter, but ‘tis most important to us.” Luna leveled her gaze at her guard captain. “The head chef, Bon Appetit, has an apprentice currently assigned to him. I wish you to locate this pony and send him to our chambers as soon as is practicable.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Luna sighed inwardly, but protocol was protocol. She’d drilled it into her servants time and again, and she could hardly blame them for doing what they’d been instructed to.
“Is he, um…” Storm trailed off for a moment, fidgeting nervously. “Is this chap going to be a...regular visitor? If so, I’d like to know so that I can spread the word to the guards so there won’t be any misunderstandings.”
The alicorn’s head jerked up, and she glared at the pegasus before her. “We do not summon him here for that,” she snapped. The volume of her voice had risen appreciably, making the mirror in the corner shiver. “Should a matter of that...subject occur, we will notify you. Until then, it is none of thy concern, do I make myself clear?”
The guard cringed, his ears flattening back. “Crystal, Your Grace,” he replied meekly. “I apologize, I did not mean to pry.”
Luna reined in her temper, taking a slow, deep breath. “Of course. No, it is merely a domestic matter, of small, import. But he will be a regular visitor, yes.” She allowed a corner of her mouth to quirk upwards. “Besides, he is rather too young for anything...dire.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Storm perked one eyebrow up. “Will there be anything else?”
“That will be all for now. You are dismissed.”
The pegasus nodded, turning neatly and beginning to leave.
“Captain Storm?”
Storm stopped, his armor making a dull clink as it bumped against the rim of his helmet. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“We should not have shouted at you. You are diligent and well-mannered, and we are well aware of your quality.” Luna looked directly at him, her eyes gleaming teal in the reflected lamplight. “We apologize for our uncouth behavior.”
The pegasus bowed deeply, then looked up at her. “No apology is necessary, Your Grace, since there is no offense to forgive.”
Luna felt a warm upwelling in her chest. “Thou art full of nonsense, but as thee will. Carry on, Captain.”
“At once, Your Grace.” Storm rounded smartly and left the room, closing the door carefully behind him. One did not slam doors in the castle, after all.
The knock on the door made Luna snort in amusement, and a glance at the clock at her bedside confirmed her assessment. Barely one quarter of an hour. We do hope Storm has not terrified the youngster beyond the ability to converse. Her horn flared briefly, and the latch clicked on the door, unlocking it and opening it a hoof’s width. “Come.”
The door swung open, and the adolescent colt who had been working in the kitchens earlier paced in uncertainly, his eyes wide. He swallowed heavily, and the princess observed his throat working nervously. Not quite terrified, but close. “Y-Your Grace?”
Oh, my. Luna fought down her amusement and kept her expression neutral. “The captain gave thee an abbreviated etiquette lesson on thy way here, I presume?”
“Y-Yes’m.” The alicorn’s frown made him back up a step, but the clicking sound of the door closing behind him cut off his retreat. “I, I mean, yes, Your Grace. He d-didn’t tell me what I was s-summoned for, however.”
“That would be expected; we did not discuss it with him.” Luna turned away and peered idly out of the doors that fronted her balcony, examining the sky critically. “Thou art apprenticed to Bon Appetit, correct?”
“Y-Yes, Your Grace.” His voice performed that unwelcome teenager’s break on the last word, and colt’s ears pinned back against his head. “I apologize for t-the incident earlier t-today, I d-didn’t know that t-t-the—”
“That is of no import; the incident is irrelevant.” Luna frowned, her brow furrowing as she stared up at the constellation of Orion that had begun to creep up over the horizon. “Tell us, doth thou possess a name?”
“M-My name?”
“Yes, thy name, child. Or doth the chef whistle for thou like a pet dog?”
Luna could see his reflection in the window, and she smiled slightly as his cheeks reddened for a moment. “No, he doesn’t. I am no pet. My name is Late Riser, Your Grace.”
This one has spirit. Excellent. The alicorn turned her head, offering the colt a dubious eye. “Late Riser? Thy nomenclature does not inspire us with much confidence. How didst thou arrive at such a name?”
The colt rubbed a hoof behind one of his ears self-consciously. “I, uh, I’m not really a morning pony, Your Grace, to be honest.” He glanced back at his haunch, where his cutie mark displayed a rather flattened looking loaf attempting to escape from a breadpan. “And I’m not really doing well with my baking. Yet.”
“Fear not, young Riser.” Luna allowed a small bit of humor to creep into her voice. “We are not, as thou sayest, a ‘morning pony’ ourselves. This is quite in thy favor.”
“Your Grace?”
“We wish to have our own head chef, to cater to our specific desires, on demand. And we think that thou should have the honor of having the position.” Luna repressed the desire to laugh at the look of utter shock that spread upon the colt’s features. “Thou shalt have plenty of time to perfect thy craft under our command. Dost thou accept?” Luna was notorious for putting ponies on the spot, and she did it deliberately, for the alicorn had no patience for dithering and ambiguity. Her sister might enjoy a lengthy discussion, but the princess of the night preferred her decisions to be over and done with.
Time was precious, even if you were immortal. “Well?”
Late Riser’s mind was plainly running dangerously close to overload speed. “B-But, I, my master, he—”
“...has no say in the matter. He will obtain a new ‘prentice easily. Our choice will be done, and none shall refute it, not even our sister. Thou shalt be our chef, answerable to us only...if thou choosest to accept. Now,” Luna said, her eyes narrowing. “What say you?”
The colt’s eyes darted frantically around; this was the first real decision he had ever been made to make, and it would choose his life’s course from the moment he made it. His ears laid back again, and then he closed his eyes and straightened. “I...I’m honored, Your Grace. I accept.”
The thunderous look Luna had been shooting him vanished in an instant, and she beamed at him. “Most excellent!” Her voice shook the panes of the windows behind her, and she chuckled softly. “Thou art most daring, young Riser. Most would have chosen to take the safer, diplomatic course, and remained in their master’s shadow.” Her voice lowered, and she looked at him for a moment. “Tell us why thou accepted. We are, indeed, curious.”
Late Riser swallowed heavily, then paused a moment, thinking carefully. “I...I like Master Bo—”
“Call him Bon, if thou will. He is thy master no more; thou art equal in station, now.”
Riser froze for a moment, the reality of this suddenly sinking in. In a split second, he had gone from lowly cook’s ‘prentice to a head of staff, with ponies of his own to command. “This...is going to take some getting used to,” he croaked.
Luna laughed merrily. “Mine own reaction when we were chosen to be the princess of the moon,” she said. “Thou shalt adapt, as we have. But come. We await thy explanation.”
The colt’s ears perked upright at that. Luna had been nervous? Ever? He fought past the revelation and continued. “Well, I like Ma...I mean, I like Bon. He’s nice and all, and teaches me a lot, and doesn’t shout. But I’ve seen Princess Celestia’s face when he brings her something special, something she didn’t even ask for, but he made up anyway, because he just knew, you know?” Late Riser met the alicorn’s gaze directly. “I want to do that for someone. Make something with my own hooves and make them happy, because I can, and because, maybe, I don’t know, they needed it and didn’t know they needed it—” He clapped a hoof to his mouth at Luna’s expression and began to stammer. “I-I’m sorry, Your Grace, I’m rambling on like an idiot.”
“Nay.” Luna’s eyes gleamed in the lamplight. “We have chosen most wisely. Thou art well blessed, little pony.” Riser’s statement had struck her deeply, and it took her a moment to recompose herself. “We look forward with great interest to the improvement of thy craft. Which starts tonight.” She clapped her forehooves together, the mailed shoes emitting a deep ringing tone. “We have a special request of thee.”
“Absolutely, Your Grace!” Late Riser beamed at her. “What can I do for you?”
“First of all, thou shalt take that rag off of thy person and burn it. We shall not have our personal chef be seen in the halls of our castle in such raiment.”
Riser glanced down guiltily at the apron he still wore tied around his chest and waist. The colt had barely finished his shift in the kitchens and gotten to his chamber when Storm had come banging on the door, demanding his presence immediately. “Of course. My apologies, Your Grace.”
“Even so. We shall have our staff provide suitable garments for thee posthaste. In the meantime, my special request. We desire a...snack.”
“As you wish, Your Grace. I’ll prepare it myself.”
“We expect nothing less,” Luna returned drily. “Our request, however, is not typical castle fare. We wish something to tide us over until our main meal at midnight, which thou shalt also prepare for us. In the meantime, however…” The princess paused, then lowered her voice drastically, far below her normal tone. “There is an...appetizer, we have heard spoken of amongst the servant ponies. Hast thou heard of...cheese hay fries?”
Late Riser blinked hard at that. “Seriously? I love those things! Ma...uh, I mean, Bon always fussed at me whenever I had any, though.”
“Indeed. Canst thou prepare this concoction? We much desire to sample its flavor. Do be honest, we pray; we do not wish to suffer indigestion.”
“Princess Luna, I can promise you that you will not be disappointed.” He grinned abruptly. “You want hay bacon on that, too?”
“Late Riser, we assure you hay bacon would be most appreciated. It is one of our favorites.” The colt stored that bit of information away firmly in his mind, she noted. Good. It was unseemly to jot such things down on a piece of paper like a common waiter might.
“Princess, you give me thirty minutes, and I’ll make your taste buds sing.”
“We look forward to the performance, young Riser.” Luna glanced behind her again; the alicorn was restless when she could not personally attend to her night. “Oh, and as for our midnight supper?”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
Luna smiled at him, her mane flowing across her features for a moment and covering them before floating away again. “Surprise us,” she stated.
Late Riser’s expression wavered for a moment, and the alicorn fought to suppress a giggle. Poor lad. But one must test the metal in the fire to see if it may be forged true. If he has any wits, he’ll interrogate the night cooks on what we like to eat, but he still has to pick something, and he has no idea what we want. Fair enough, neither do we at the moment. “Dismissed, Late Riser. The clock is ticking.”
The teenage colt snapped upright in a sorry approximation of attention. “At once, Your Grace!” He spun around, nearly tripping, and managed to get the door open while turning and bowing while backing up, all without falling over. “You’ll love it, I promise!”
Luna hmm-hmmed absently and regarded the sky outside the windowpanes until the door closed behind her, then released the pent-up laughter inside her. She leaned against the doorframe that led to her balcony and laughed until tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Oh my. The lad is precious. We really do hope he lasts.”
There was a familiar double-knock at her door, and it opened to reveal Ebon Storm. The guard captain paced into the room, stopping and peering at her dubiously. “I take it that went better than expected?”
“Most propitiously, I assure you, Captain.” Luna snorted again, then composed herself. “Storm, the youngster that just left is named Late Riser, and he is our new personal chef. You shall allow him the standard clearance within the castle and our chambers as befits his new station.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Storm cleared his throat carefully. “May I inquire as to what happened to Bon Appetit?”
“Nothing happened. He is still our sister’s chef. Riser is now mine.”
The guard’s eyes bespoke innumerable questions, but he kept them to himself and bowed. “As you will.”
“Precisely.” Luna quirked a brow upward. “Is there anything else?”
“No, Your Grace. I’ll notify the guard and the staff as you command. I wish you a pleasant evening, Princess.” He bowed once more, then turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Carefully.
Luna lay upon the balcony outside her chambers, her eyes fixed on the spangled vault of sky above her. Her horn flickered, and the orange star at the left of Orion’s belt nudged itself back into position once more. That’s right, little one, we are watching you. Mind your place.
The basket that lay between her forelegs sent up another wave of heavenly aroma, and she obliged it by picking up another of the golden-brown hayfries and munching on it contentedly. A piece of hay bacon crunched between her molars and she squealed with delight as the flavor burst across her tongue. Oh, these are divine. If the lad chooses poorly for our supper, we shall most certainly forgive him. She was quite aware that the snack she was devouring was rather unhealthy, as well as menacing to her trim physique, but she consoled herself by deciding to limit her consumption of it. Only when the moon is full. We shall instruct our chef so.
Her chef. The idea filled her with delight and a small amount of concern. She would no doubt hear about this from her sister in the morning, but Luna was confident that her decision would go unchallenged. After all, it was such a small thing. And besides, she truly had something that belonged to her, something that had not been bestowed by her parents, her sister, or anyone else.
Something she had taken.
Not that Late Riser was an object or anything, far from it. The lad would grow to be far more than just a cook, she would see to that. Luna rarely had desires for material items. It was the abstract, the metaphysical, the undefined world which attracted her strongly. Late Riser possessed rare, precious qualities which she intended to see flower and grow, and he would be rewarded for his efforts.
But those were matters for another night. The one before her now called her attention fully. Casting her gaze upward again, she noted the positions of the stars. With the night sky above her, she had no need to check the clock behind her to see the time. Her night court would begin in precisely one hour and forty-seven minutes from now, and she would continue it through until midnight. Celestia held longer sessions in the day, but Luna was not her sister, and few ponies sought the counsel of the younger alicorn in the small hours.
No matter. She had an important duty to fulfill in the meanwhile. It was still the middle of the evening, and while older ponies might still be up and about, there were those who retired early: farmers, shopkeepers, and the small ones which were so important to them all, the children, the fillies and colts who had finished their dinner, done their homework (mostly,) and had been sent off to bed. It was time to see to their dreams.
Idly munching on another mouthful of hayfries, Luna closed her eyes as her horn began glimmering from base to tip with a bright, coruscating light.
We come, our little ponies. Rejoice in the night, for we are here.
We are here.