Celestia, the undying sun as she was now known as by her followers, stared out the window of her castle at the full moon. Her ears pinned back against her head as she spoke softly to herself, “Oh, Luna, they’ve made this horrible day into one of celebration.” She stared at the moon, and felt the tears start to gather. “When all I wish to do is mourn for you, I am forced to paste a false smile upon my muzzle and be merry and gay as they sing songs and tell stories of the battle and defeat of the dread Nightmare Moon. If any even came close to the truth, I wouldn’t have so much pain in my heart.”
She sat on her haunches, looking at the visage of a mare on the moon. “Some days, I hate them... Help me, Luna, but I do. Those are the times I wish our roles were reversed.” A soft sigh escaped through her nose. “Only one thing is getting me through this day, and that is the fact that sometime tonight I will receive a letter from you.”
Celestia turned her gaze away from the window—the fires and singing she just couldn’t take. Their joy was like the twisting of a knife in her gut. “It took all of this for ponies to appreciate the night. What a joke, what a horrible cruel joke,” She spat out bitterly as there was a small popping sound and a scroll dropped down in front of her. She quickly opened the seal and allowed the parchment to fall open—hopeful that this year’s letter may have been written by her dear Luna.
Tyrant,
One year has passed since our last correspondence, and I wonder if my hate for you has lessened at all? Do you celebrate this day? Is there a huge party that lasts all day until the ponies once more ignore and reject the night? Do you celebrate with them? Gayly laughing and drinking your fill? Or, is it possible you in fact do care I am no longer there?
Nightmare Moon
Celestia ran a hoof softly over the signature. It might have said Nightmare Moon but she could see glimpses of Luna in the letter. It had been short…. shorter than Celestia had hoped, but it was something she could touch.
She took out a scroll and quill, dipping the latter into the ink pot. She stopped and closed her eyes. What could she write? Could she tell her about the loss she felt with her gone? Tell her about the anger that boiled in her soul at the celebration?…She choked back a sob, her hoof over her muzzle. As she looked back at the scroll, she knew she should speak her heart.
My dear Luna,
it has been a year since I last saw you, and I miss you no less than at the moment I became aware it would be one thousand years until I glimpsed you again. You may be unaware but your profile is now etched into the face of the moon. It has become difficult for me to go outside at night to see that. You were incorrect about the ponies celebrating during this day. Instead they celebrate through the night. It makes me so angry to know this. That it took this to get the ponies outside and enjoy your night. I fear at times I hate them for it. I do not celebrate this day, I could never celebrate it. All that has gotten me through this day is knowing that your letter was coming. Please, know that I miss you so much, and I love you, little sister. Until next year, my beloved Luna.
Love,
Celest Tia
The moment her quill left the parchment the scroll rolled up and vanished.
“Nine hundred and ninety-nine years to go, Lulu,” she said, even as she tried to drown out the sounds of revelry outside.
