Princess Celestia
The Elements of Harmony channelled my desperation, and the Sun rose with my fury to burn away the darkness.
The nightmare was over.
It had been I who had held back the army. I had ordered the Royal Guard to stand down. I had let the Nightmare ravage Equestria – all in the hope that I might convince my sister to return to me. A foolish notion. I can see that now.
The surviving senators cried to end the age of alicorns and reinstate the old order. My little ponies turned on me, painting me as the murderer of their children. And I believed them. Without Luna to guide me, I plunged into self-hatred and despair. It was my fault, all of it. I could not wash the blood from my hooves.
The nobles argued. The ponies rioted. They broke through the exhausted Royal Guard, into the Old Castle, torches in their hooves and the names of the dead on their tongues. They forced me to flee, and as I flew across the heavens, I saw my beautiful Equestria tearing itself apart.
Something broke inside of me.
Because I knew better. Because I was meant to rule all the land. The fact that I persevered where my own sister had failed was proof enough. I refused to let the squabbling of nobles and the shrieking tantrums of spiteful children destroy my beautiful Equestria. As the chosen Tyrant, their lives were rightfully mine to control as I saw fit. Yet I could not rule without a loyal force – and the Royal Guard would not be enough.
Before the Longest Night, few ponies matched the Night Guards in their loyalty and devotion. When they awoke from the nightmare with equine flesh between their teeth, none matched them in guilt.
Yet more terrifying than the pain of guilt was the silence. Without Luna to serve as a conduit between their souls, they could no longer sense one another. Their souls shivered alone in the cold – alone with the absence of Princess Luna and alone with the memories of the Longest Night.
Each one cried out for redemption. I offered them atonement.
I had the Old Castle and Courtyard emptied – by any means necessary. I called all the Night Guards to see me. I presented a simple offer: to pay for their crimes with servitude to my rule, or be banished from Equestria forever under threat of death. I allowed them a night to decide.
Of the four hundred and twenty-four Night Guards who served under Princess Luna before the Longest Night, three hundred and fifty-six survived that fateful night. Of the three hundred and eleven still capable of labour, two hundred and ninety accepted my offer. Silhouette became the first of thirty-two to attempt suicide, and the third of twenty-one to succeed.
Every Night Guard had held a fragment of Luna's soul. I purged them with magic of my own. Each individual piece of Luna begged for mercy, each screamed in vain. They all burned with the cleansing fire of the Sun, forced from their bodies to join Luna inside the Moon. With every screaming Night Guard that I saved, it felt as though I murdered another piece of my sister. By the time I was done with them all, I no longer cared.
As Luna's soul left them, their bodies receded to their original forms: simple ponies like any other. The Night Guard was so abolished, and the Equestrian Bureau for State Security rose in its place. Its solitary purpose: to stamp out all those who would stand against my rule. From the dirtiest worker in the field to the oldest members of the Senate, none were safe. A year in the Crystal Mines would break any spirit. Ten, any spine.
The Night Guards were gone. Nopony had seen them since the Longest Night – they hadn't because I willed it so. The EBSS quickly dealt with any who dared spread lies about sighting them even after the Breaking of Dawn.
Those who dared oppose me opposed Equestria itself, for I was Equestria: its rising Sun and watchful Moon, its peace and harmony, the dawn of a new day atop the ashes.
In a century, I'd abolish the Senate entirely. In another, there would be nopony to remember the time when I was not the sole ruler of the land. In a millennium, my little ponies would not have it any other way.
It always amazed me, how quickly the common pony adapts; afraid at first, but never for long. In a matter of years, most learned to be content – even happy – with how things were. After all, things could not have been any other way. Just as long as you worked diligently to rebuild our broken Equestria, Equestria promised to be paradise again. In time, I managed to convince even myself.
No, ponies were not afraid. I did not allow fear, for to fear was to doubt, and to doubt was to harm Equestria.
What I had created was not a world of fear. I had made a world of lies.
New Page
It was a few days since I had talked to the strange stallion at the cemetery. There was nothing to him, and I didn't manage to coerce anything out of him – unlike Winters, who had been all but open. Even so, as I spent yet another night in the company of a book and a candle, I couldn't get myself to care for Winters. The more I thought about it, the hollower his words rang in my memory. What did I see in that guy? I could barely remember his face. Back in the tavern, though, he seemed captivating.
Instead my mind wandered, incessantly and insistently, back to the old pegasus by the headstone. Funny how that worked.
I turned onto my belly, throwing 'Memoirs in the Night' onto my pillow as my bed creaked underneath me. This one was an interesting piece: its author Silhouette had apparently been a Night Guard, and the book was a short collection of memories from his time spent serving Luna. Though he went out of his way to never refer to 'common ponies' by their real names, he gladly included those of his comrades.
Short as each section was, I found myself taking a certain liking to the Night Guards. Silhouette didn't see his own kind as the monsters oft talked about by other ponies. They were more like a ragtag bunch of misfits, forged in service, their imperfections hammered away by Luna's guidance.
I couldn't help but sympathise with Dusken Caverns' quest to escape a haughty noble's wrath; I pumped my hoof in excitement when Crimson Cascade caught the Thief of Second Street; I felt for Crescent Strike when a self-important mare besmirched their order.
There was no sign of the bloodthirsty madness that would overcome them in the Longest Night. Silhouette's apparent skill as an author alone indicated that the Night Guards were far more than anypony gave them credit for. No surprise, I suppose, given their backgrounds. They all had something to prove.
No wonder why Celestia wanted this buried. I could easily see why a book that has you see the equine face of the Night Guards would be considered dangerous. They were scapegoats, the lot of them: Celestia marked them as monsters and directed our hate towards them – and had us praise her for banishing them into the Moon. All the less time spent tarnishing the name of her sister.
The apartment's door rattled, sending metallic clangs across every room. I didn't pay attention to it; it did that, especially on windy nights. But then it rattled again, and I heard the handle clack and turn. I got up as quietly as I could, stepping onto the carpet to make less noise, all the while doing my best to avoid the discarded scraps of paper and scrolls. From above my bed, I took the candle holder off its hoist.
I was afraid to peek around the door. Could it have been a burglar – or worse, the EBSS? I felt like if it was the latter, the best thing would be to turn tail and fly out the window.
“Page?” asked a familiar voice. “It's me.”
“Flora?” I let out a frustrated sigh around the candle holder, turning out of my room. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, you—” I recoiled with a yelp, almost dropping the candle; at the door stood a mare I didn't recognise, a cloak over her back and a hood covering her eyes.
She threw her hood back, closing the door with a hind leg. “It's fine, it's fine.”
Her horn glowed red, and a tuft of magic yanked the candle holder from my mouth, bringing it close to her face. Her coat was dark blue, and an unkempt white mane draped over her eyes. I recognised Flora Dawn's ornate amulet around her neck.
She smiled. “I dyed myself.”
“Wow.” I looked her up and down. “Got bored of pink?”
“Light red. And yes.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“No, not at all.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Alright, maybe. Well, it depends. Something's come up.”
“You want me to help.”
“I do.”
“And this can't possibly wait.”
“It can't.”
I rolled my eyes, turning back into my room. “Alright, I'm listening.”
Flora followed with light steps. “You said you don't want to go back to the Archives.”
I hopped onto my bed, leaning my back against the wall. “Yeah, no.”
“We respect that.” She sat down next to me. “But we just found out about... about something that, it seems only you can help us with. We need you, and we need you quickly.”
“Don't you ever?” I asked, raising a brow.
She leaned close, putting her hooves on my shoulders. “I'm not reaching when I say that everything's at stake. Everything we've been working on, everything you ever did for us, it will all have been for nothing if you don't help us here.” She took her hooves off. “I'm very sorry to throw it on you like this, but this is a sudden development.”
I scooted the other way. “Look, I don't know about this 'we' you keep referring to. You know I never cared for your... whatever it is you're doing. I steal books, you give books. That was the deal, no more. All I want is to find out why I'm having the dreams.”
“Nightmare Moon in chains?”
I nodded.
She pressed a smirk in my face. “What if I told you that I know somepony who might have the answer?”
I pushed her nose away. “Then I'd call you a liar.”
She leaned back at the wall, crossing her hooves. “When did you get like this, Page? You were my best friend.”
“Then you ran away and I didn't see you for ten years.” I crossed my hooves too, turning the other way to stare at a dark corner of the room. “We thought you'd died. Like you fell off a cliff, or got caught by some animal in the woods. I cried, Flora. Took me a month to recover. And then you show up at my apartment like nothing happened, babbling something about this mysterious 'we'.” I turned back to her. “I'm sorry if I have reservations.”
She poked a playful hoof at my side. “Must've been some convincing babbling, seeing how quickly you signed up.”
I pursed my lips, looking down. “You want me to go back there.”
“This is the last thing we'll ever need from you.” Though I wasn't looking, I heard the bed creak as she crawled closer, and I felt the warmth of her chest against my side. “Look. I know you don't like it. Nopony does. But I promise, this is the last thing.”
“You say that every time.” I shook her off. “Even if it were true this time, I'm no closer to an answer for my dreams. I'll have achieved nothing, except playing the chances for banishment. Or worse!”
“Oh, but you've done a lot. In fact, with all the information you've collected, we've managed to find out a few things about your nightmares.”
I twiddled the tips of my hooves, refusing to turn to her. “So you've been using me, even though you knew what I wanted to know. You're not helping your case here.”
“We didn't know! Not until recently.”
I shook my head.
“Okay, Page. Look at me. Look me in the eyes. Please.”
I turned to her with a sigh.
She cupped one of my hooves between two of hers, raising it between us. “I'm sorry.”
And I saw a sincerity in her eye that she could not have faked. In her gaze, I found memories. We've been here once before.
“Remember when we got lost in the woods?” she asked.
Oh, how could I forget? Out in the scary wilderness, the forest enveloping us, the sounds of wolves scampering just above the next cliff, the pain in my dislocated wing – such an experience leaves a mark in an eight-year-old. “It was your fault, you know,” I grumbled.
“It was, wasn't it? But you led us home. I need you again, Page.” She squeezed my hoof tighter. “Come on. One last adventure. I will tell you everything we've learned.”
I pondered for a moment. By the time I noticed the grin creeping up my cheeks, it was too late. I put my other hoof onto her grasp and squeezed back. “Alright. One final run.”
“Ha!” She hopped from the bed, trampling the parchments on the floor. “Well then, no time to waste. Let's go!”
“Wait, right now?”
She cast me a confused glare before responding. “Oh, we're not going to the Archives tonight. There's something else you need to see before we set this up.”
“Oh?” I got up as well. “What is it?”
“I think it's about time you met us.”
Flora Dawn led the way through the night. Not down the gas-lit streets, but down steep cliffs not meant to be travelled, across the darkest back alleys, and through gardens and courtyards of nobles and workers alike. With her guidance, we avoided the watchful eyes of the Royal Guards ever above. Clearly she'd been doing this for a while.
Though I could not put a hoof on where we were going; it appeared we took needless turns going in zigzag or in circles outright, passing the same spire multiple times before moving on. Flora barely ever stopped and never turned back, and I couldn't match her boundless energy to talk and gallop at the same time.
In the end, she made a sharp stop under a noble's hanging garden; it arced over an alley to connect one spire to the next. She put out a hoof in front of me and placed the tip of another on her lips.
“Ssh.”
“What's going on?” I panted, trying to keep my voice down. “Why are we—”
She put her hoof on my mouth, cocking her head upwards. “We're being followed.”
“What, like the EBSS?”
“They've been dogging me for a while. He's got to be alone, else he'd have jumped us already. He thinks I haven't noticed.”
I looked back into the moonlit street, frantically searching the shadows for prying eyes. “So what now?”
“We'll lose him up ahead.” She pointed towards a building whose bright pink logo cheerfully advertised the 'Gemstone Beauty Saloon'. “You round it to the right, I'll go left. There's an entrance to an empty canal there, totally underground, never used.”
“What, where the kids go to pee?”
She smacked me on the head. “Way better than what those guys will do to you, trust me.”
I sighed in resignation. “Alright. So when—”
A wolf's howl pierced the silence of the night, resonating across the streets and bouncing between the spires. I frantically turned my head up. Several storeys high, atop the crest of a noble's tower, I saw a wolf, its bright fur silhouetted against the starry sky. How in Equestria...
As the last echoes of the howl died down, I heard a muffled “What the!” from the hanging garden above. That was when Flora bolted from the shadow of the arch – and I followed without thinking. She ran quickly, quicker than I'd ever seen a pony run. My legs could barely keep up.
She ran around the saloon to the right, and I skipped over the fence to the left. The lights of the city around me bled together into a single smudge as I rounded the circular wall of the building.
On the other side, Flora came galloping towards me. She jumped in the air and pointed her horn down, sending one red flash of light at a maintenance hatch. The padlock came undone, red-hot and sizzling even as Flora threw the cover off.
She stuffed me down the hole and came hopping after me, pulling the hatch to cover the hole. With one last metallic clang, the cover fell into place and blocked out the last ray of moonlight from the outside.
“Phew,” Flora huffed. A spark of red light appeared at the tip of her horn, casting its glow on the nearby walls. “That was close.”
I eyed the hatch uneasily – or what I could make out of it. “You reckon he saw us come in here?”
“Let's not wait to find out. Come on.”
The tunnel was rather narrow, fitting maybe for a pony and a half. It quickly came to a fork; Flora led the way through the dank maze of mould and dust, pointing out any odd-looking puddles or leakages on the walls before I came to them.
“What is this place, anyway?” I asked.
“They connect to the rivers higher on the mountain,” Flora replied. “They're going to feed fountains or whatever with 'em. The point is they're not doing anything right now.”
“Uh-huh.”
We stopped every once in a while to listen for the sound of hooves, but nothing came. As far as we could tell, there was nopony coming after us. Whether that came down to our brilliant escape or their disgust for cramped, wet spaces was anypony's guess.
After a few more minutes of treading in silence and passing by one too many exits to the surface, I realised she really wasn't going to talk about the obvious. Seems like I'll need to take a metaphorical pair of pliers to her mouth again to get anything from her. 'For my own benefit', as if. “So, uh... that wolf.”
“Don't know, don't care. We got away, that's what's important.”
“You're really not earning my trust here.”
I'd have continued that line of inquiry, had I not seen light again – light that didn't come from Flora's horn. Our path came to the end as the tunnel led directly out to the mountainside – had there been any water flowing here, it would've cascaded right down into the depths.
Flora stuck her head out. Finding the coast clear, she hopped right out and began climbing the rocks. I thanked the powers that be for gifting me with wings.
Coming above the mountain-sill at the edge of the city, we surfaced at the private residence of a noble that overlooked the depths below. It appeared to be the only one around; by the look of it, it was among the oldest buildings of Canterlot, likely made hastily before they decided these cliffs were unable to support the large structures that most nobles demanded. The place, though large by any commoner's standards – or mine anyway – was nothing to brag about in the upper circles.
A courtyard surrounded the structure, blocked from the rest of the city by a stone wall taller than a pony. Rearing on my hind hooves, I could just barely make out the silhouette of the mansion's roof against the starry sky.
The unlit courtyard reeked of flowers and freshly cut grass. Normally I wasn't much for flowers, but by goodness was it better than the damp smells of that maintenance tunnel.
Along the path snaking from the main entrance to the gates, I saw statues of unicorns rearing and pointing to the sky, their various orifices spewing water that twinkled in the moonlight. Or was it wine?
Flora skipped over the fence with surprising ease – I used my wings to hop over. She ran quickly to the entrance of the mansion.
The door opened before we got to it. In the dark anteroom a pale, old stallion held the door for us. Flora walked in without looking at him.
I cast him a glance and greeted him cautiously, “Hello?” He stared blankly forward, responding only by closing the door behind us. I leaned to whisper in Flora's ear, “Who's that?”
She glanced at him. “Oh, he's just the butler.”
I kept staring at this 'butler', but he didn't budge and rarely blinked. He sat by the door entirely still, his eyes never wavering from the nothing in front of him. “Is he okay?”
Flora smiled, hanging her cloak. “He's always like that. Nothing you should be concerned about.” She kept her red amulet on.
“He's giving me the creeps.”
The anteroom was wide but unlit, and I detected the faint scent of incense wafting in the air. Listening, I heard voices – or mumbled whispers, really.
“In fact,” I added, “this whole thing is giving me the creeps.”
She patted me on the head, ruffling my mane. “Ponies are always a little scared at first. But don't worry, you'll soon realise there is nothing to fear. Really, to us, you're something of an... idol.”
I didn't know whether to laugh off that remark as a joke or to be concerned about what I got myself into. “Well, consider my curiosity piqued.”
“Just be yourself,” Flora said. “They're going to love you, and—” She cocked her head, raising her brows at something behind my back.
From behind an empty doorway peeked a small colt. He let his jaw hang agape as he looked at Flora, then turned to me. His eyes went wide when our gazes met, and a frightened gasp fell from his lips. He turned with a little hop, his tiny hooves clopping as he ran off.
“Tsk! Discovered,” said Flora. “So much for a dramatic entrance. I hoped we could surprise them.”
“Who exactly am I meeting, again?”
“More ponies like me. Ponies who are free. Come on.”
We walked through the doorway into the dim room beyond, following the waning sound of little hooves and hushed words across the hallways. From the inside, the mansion appeared larger than I'd have guessed: wide rooms opened into one another, lit by the occasional candle at the corner, their walls adorned by great vistas or paintings of great events in Equestrian history.
Doorframes had been carved into intricate works of art: slender ponies with both wings and horns greeted us every time we walked past. Depictions of the Sun and the Moon in a swirling sea of stars filled the ceilings to create one continuous skyline, while the carpets had all been embroidered with pictures of marching pegasus armies across conquered lands. Above, a private slice of the heavens; at our hooves, the steps of the many who came before.
Passing a few rooms, we reached what I took to be the inner sanctum of the mansion. From behind a half-opened door seeped out a stream of dancing firelight, its warm reddish glow bringing colour to the shadows of the hallway.
“They must be on their way,” said a stallion's voice.
“By the Moon above, what do we say?” mumbled a nervous mare. “C-come here Süß, sit in in my lap and be a good boy. Don't bring shame on us.”
I sent Flora a look. She turned to me with a cheeky grin. “Sounds to me they're excited to meet you.”
She pulled the door open, stepping aside. At once the room fell silent, and the smell of incense washed over us. A dozen stares greeted me. Flora cocked her head and batted her eyebrows at me. I stepped in with an uneasy gulp.
A fireplace crackled set against the wall, its warmth filling the room and its light breaking against the thick curtain that covered the wide window. There was no carpet here; the parquet lay bare and bore the scratches of many a hoof.
Or rather, it wasn't bare: a great, deep blue circle whose edge touched the base of each wall had been painted onto the floor. The points of a wide, six-pronged star touched the inner edge of the circle, and the star's lines were accompanied by even more runes and strange shapes.
The walls were white, lacking the pompous decoration that defined the rest of the building; the only thing to adorn them were straight lines, one shooting out of each point of the star, crawling up the wall to come together in a single point on the ceiling. The lines reminded me of the bars of a cell.
A stallion sat in the centre of the star, his back to the fireplace. He couldn't have been much older than me. The other ponies sat in front of him on an assortment of wide pillows, stools, or simply on the floor, incense sticks smouldering around them in scattered trays.
I saw a pair of them sharing a bottle of wine with no glasses in sight. A small group huddled around a single mare with a deck of fanciful cards laid out before her, the kind that old hags at the market used to dispense predictions and promise good fortunes in exchange for your bits.
The rest sat closer to the stallion in the centre, like children awaiting the tale of their grandfather. Among them was a teenage filly with the colt from earlier hiding behind her legs.
Indeed, the word 'children' seemed most apt, as most of the ponies in the room appeared younger than me, ranging from early to late teens. Apart from the little colt, the only other exception was an old, wrinkled unicorn who rested in a comfortable-looking armchair farther back, chewing a pipe in his mouth as he eyed me up and down.
The stallion in the centre turned to us. He gave a welcoming smile and began slowly clapping his hooves. After a second or two, the others caught on; in a moment, the entire room resounded with the sound of hooves. The teen filly with the colt grabbed the little one's hooves and clapped them for him.
Of all the things I expected, this certainly wasn't among of them. “Um... hello.”
The stallion in the centre lifted a hoof to the others, to which the clapping stopped. He stood up and came to take my hoof. I shook on it instinctively – only for him to pull my hoof closer and plant a kiss on it before letting go.
“It's a pleasure to meet you, New Page,” he said.
The room had been pretty cosy to begin with, but now it was getting uncomfortably warm. I fanned my head a little. “Stars, er, I mean, I'm glad to meet you as well.”
“And you,” the stallion said and stepped up to Flora, giving her hoof a firm, two-hoofed shake. “You're so late! We were starting to worry.”
The filly with the colt got up, the little one skipping behind her to peek at me with wide eyes. “Oh Nichts, don't listen to Kein,” the filly said. “He's always wearing his old drama-pants. We knew you'd make it.”
What did she just call Flora?
“Getting around is harder and harder these days,” said Flora. Nichts? “But yes, we made it. All in one piece, no dogs on our tail—”
“Is she the Progeny?” asked the little colt, pointing a tiny hoof at me. A round of gasps and whispers washed over the congregation.
The stallion – Kein – cleared his throat. “Now, now, everypony calm down.”
He bent down to the colt, who quickly hid his eyes behind the filly's leg. The filly, in turn, nudged him forward. “You've asked a question, boy,” she said. “Don't you want to hear the answer?”
“Her name is New Page,” Klein said to the colt. “She is very smart and very kind and you needn't fear her in the slightest. That is all you need to know.”
While the filly and Kein soothed the child, I leaned closer to Flora. “What's with the names? And what was it he called me?”
“It's not important right now,” she whispered back.
I elbowed her side. “It is important.”
“Excuse me,” Kein cut in. “Something wrong?”
Flora spoke before I could. “Page is simply unsure why she's here. I don't think we've introduced ourselves.”
Kein slapped his forehead. “Of course. How rude of us.” He bowed his head before me. “You might have gathered that my name is Kein. Soon to be Priest Kein, in fact.”
Priest? “Oh, well, it's a pleasure to meet you.”
Flora walked beside Kein and turned to me, knocking a hoof on his chest. “Kein is like a brother to me. But really, we're all a big family here.” She motioned towards the other ponies in the room: the filly with the colt, and all the other young mares and stallions looking eagerly at me. “Among us, my name is Nichts.” She took a deep breath, then let loose a relieved sigh. “It feels so good to say that in front of you, Page. Hello, my name is Priestess Nichts.”
“Yes,” said the teen filly, skipping up to me. In her eyes I saw the excited eagerness of a child not fully in understanding of the world. Though her grin shone with admiration, I couldn't help but feel unnerved by her. “And my name's Winzig.” She reached for the colt, not taking her eyes off me for a second, nudging him over. “And he's little Süß right here. Say 'hi', Süß.”
The colt just rushed to hide behind Winzig's legs again.
“He's lovely once you get to know him,” she chortled.
“Oh, I'm sure,” I said with a forced giggle. “Forgive me, I'm still not sure why I'm here.”
One of the wine drinkers got up. “Did you really break into the Archives?”
“What?” I couldn't believe Flora would so recklessly flaunt that. Why'd she tell all these ponies? “I—”
The other wine pony stood up. “I heard you've known Nichts since you were kids, is that true?”
The mare with the cards hopped up and pushed in front. “Yes! What was it like, growing up with her?”
“Hey now,” said Flora, stepping up protectively. “Everypony calm d—”
A stallion barely younger than me butted her out of the way, leaning in. “Can you really see the Nightmare in your dreams?”
“Do you always sense her?” asked another.
“Have you ever talked to her?”
“Has she ever talked to you?”
“What did she say?”
They gathered around me, inching closer with every word, smothering me with their questions and eager, starry stares. It was like they weren't even ponies any more, but starved beasts who'd happened upon fresh meat – except they craved my mind's contents rather than my body's.
“That's enough!” said a rough voice in the back, making all the others fall silent.
Everypony turned their heads towards the old unicorn in the armchair. He chewed his pipe, flicking it to the other corner of his lips with a twitch of his tongue. He drew on it deeply. Then he spat the pipe out – his magic floating it right in front of him – and shook his head, smoke pouring from his mouth and nose as he sighed. His gaze passed over every pony inside, skipping only me.
“That's better,” he said. “I can hear myself think.”
He bit on his pipe, then stood up, groaning quietly as his old bones helped him up. He dragged one of his hooves as he limped closer to me; the children around us backed away and dispersed to give him space.
“You've probably noticed,” he said, “that you have something of a reputation here. Nichts has spoken much about you.” He sent her a nod, then offered me a hoof. “Now then, you look like the kind of mare who prefers a hoofshake over kisses.”
As I took his hoof, I saw Kein look away for a moment.
“My name is Starcall Comet the Third of House Aurae Glow, and this is my home.” He drew on his pipe – then quickly turned away to cough into a hoof. “Excuse me. The curses of old age, eh?” He smiled. “Now, that is the name I was born with. Here, my name is simply Schweigen, and I am not an inkling more or less noble than any of us.” He sent the others a quick look. “Though my manners might be a touch more refined. A blessing of old age.”
Aurae Glow! I figured his features were familiar. Though not the richest noble house out there, they were by far the most – for lack of a better term – promiscuous. Ties of marriage bound the Aurae to practically every other House on at least one thread. For Flora and her little friends, it certainly made sense to use fake names – an Aurae, however, could have fooled very few indeed.
Though I would never have guessed that little Flora had friends in such high places. Evidently there was more to her ragtag bunch than I'd thought. “An honour to meet you, sir.”
“The honour is all mine,” he responded. “Please, no 'sir'. Tonight, I am merely Schweigen.”
I nodded. “Very well, Schweigen.”
Kein clapped a hoof on his shoulder. “And that's why we all adore him. As modest as he is wise. Prophet Nie's right hoof, we call him.”
Schweigen chuckled. “That honour belongs to our lovely Nichts, I believe.”
“Yes,” I said, “she's been very, er, helpful to me. In fact, she's called me here to perform some sort of job, I believe.” I gave her a look. “Although I'm not sure who this 'Prophet Nie' person is.”
“He's only the most amazing stallion you'll ever meet,” said Flora. She slowly turned away, looking up at nothing as her eyes shone with the glow of admiration. Or infatuation, more like.
Kein turned the other way while scratching the back of his neck, and the kids giggled quietly. Schweigen sent them a stern glare.
Flora shook her head. “Sorry, I got a little ahead of myself. Nie is... he guides us. And he, well... he saved me.” She hung her head.
Kein nuzzled her. “It was Nie who found her.”
“You know I ran away,” said Flora, voice wavering. “Mum and Dad, they moved to Horsmouth to get away from the world after the Longest Night. Don't know what they left behind, but... I don't think they ever wanted me, Page. Dad beat me. Mum didn't care. You were the only reason I didn't run away sooner than I did.” She sighed. “I was just a little filly lost in the country, but I might as well have been a rat.” She sniffed and dragged the back of a hoof across her nostrils. “I learned to beg. I learned to steal. After some noble's kid practised his archery on me one day, I learned to stay out of sight.”
“Wow,” I said. “Flora, I didn't know—”
She took a deep breath to collect herself. That ironed her voice a little.
“It was in Colthagen, I think. Big city, you know, plenty of places to hide. I must have been, like... thirteen. I quickly learned my way around the back alleys, and there was this ancient sawmill on the outskirts, completely trashed and abandoned. That's where I'd go to sleep. It was fine for a while... then one night, I began hearing sounds.”
The other kids gathered around us, dragging their pillows and stools closer. By the looks they gave her, I could tell some of these kids have been there themselves.
Flora puffed her chest and gave them a brave smile. She seemed to enjoy telling ponies the story for the first time.
“I thought somepony had found me,” she continued. “I was helpless, and I didn't want to imagine what they might do to me. Hooves clopping, sneaking, just out of sight, you know? I was terrified. I jumped out the window onto a pile of rotting logs. Sprained an ankle. But I didn't care, I just ran, ran all the way to the city. Didn't return until the next morning. And you know what I found?”
The kids leaned closer, their ears perked forward. Schweigen and Kein exchanged a smile.
“I found a pile of food wrapped in a blanket.” She looked up, again with that dreamy look. “And that night, Prophet Nie came to me. I just had to take one look at him, and all of my fears, they simply vanished. He offered me a place to stay. If it had been anypony else, I'm sure I'd have said no. But Nie... there's nopony under the Moon and stars who can say no to Nie.”
The kids passed around nods and smiles, though a few of them looked worried.
Flora booped the nose of a concerned-looking kid, winking. “He didn't take advantage of me. All he did was talk. He told there was a family waiting for me.” She wiped a tear away, stepping closer to the kids – and spread out her hooves for a collective hug. “We're all one family here.”
“And they call me melodramatic,” mumbled Kein, turning to me. “Ah, she drums it up, but she isn't wrong. Prophet Nie is truly exceptional.”
After a round of hugs, Flora sat down with the other kids, nodding at Kein. “So go on, then. Tell the story.”
He sighed. “I'm actually of noble blood.”
I raised a brow. “Oh?”
“Yes,” he said. “House Talltree, I think. Nichts told us you study history, so you might now what happened to us.”
I needed a moment to search my memory. 'Talltree' does sound familiar... “Celestia ousted them from the Senate right after the Longest Night. They'd been most vocal about reinstating the old order, without alicorns.”
“We lost everything,” Kein went on. “I was just a toddler then, of course. Didn't learn about it until I was ten. My parents, they gave me away to some backwards, farming family. I might be noble by blood, but I've always been just a regular worker. I've worked on that apple orchard since I could remember. All my life I been told, 'work harder, Celestia says so'. I'd never seen her, I had no idea who she was, only that she knew when I didn't work hard enough.”
He sat down and grabbed one of his fetlocks, circling it around and making the joint pop.
“And did I work hard. When I was very little, I genuinely believed Celestia was always watching me. I'd look up to the sky and talk to the Sun, to her, reassuring her that I was doing my job. I got obsessed with making her proud.”
He started to chuckle, but it quickly turned into one long, weary sigh. “I grew out of it, eventually. It wasn't until one day when I had to deliver a batch of apples to Canterlot that I really grew up. It was years ago, the city wasn't even half this size then. But even so...”
He rubbed the back of his neck and searched the wall for words. “I mean, I sort of knew who Celestia was, but only when I saw her looking down from the palace balcony did it dawn on me. Her eyes passed right through me, past that enormous cart, didn't even linger a second. Because Celestia never really watched me work. She didn't even know I existed. After that, well... I never went back to the farm.”
“He made a living working temporary jobs,” Schweigen interjected. “You've spent a month plastering the walls of the Palace, haven't you?”
“And I hated every second of it,” Kein said. “It wasn't long until Prophet Nie found me. He has an eye for troubled youth.”
I turned to Schweigen, expecting another lengthy tale. It must have been quite something, I figured, as he wasn't young and neither did he seem particularly troubled.
“Oh, quit staring,” he said. I thought I saw his cheeks flush red. He drew on his pipe before continuing, his words coming out in clouds of smoke. “I don't have such a story to tell. Nie is close to my heart, though.”
“Is that so?” I asked.
Schweigen shrugged and blew out the last waft of smoke from his lungs. “He is my son. The only thing I have left since the Longest Night.” His eyes danced across the walls. “Well, the only thing I care for.”
“See, Page?” asked Flora. “I wanted you to know who we are. We're ponies just like you or anypony else. 'Cause when you think about it, haven't all our lives been wracked by the Longest Night?”
I couldn't help but think about Papa. “All of Equestria was.”
She walked to the middle of the room, a stool sliding over to her in a red envelope of magic. She quickly hopped on top of it and reared on her hind hooves.
“And now Celestia sits on the throne of this rotting world,” she preached. “Think how different all our lives would have been if Princess Luna were still among us.” She slowly put her hooves down; the stool tipped forwards but did not fall over. “Luna would never have let her sister become the unyielding tyrant she is.”
Aaand that's it, I said to myself. I'm going to the mines, I just know it.
Flora leaned back, making the stool tip the other way. “Prophet Nie says it best: had it not been for the cataclysmic betrayal of Princess Luna, Equestria would still be paradise. And if she were to return, all would be set right in the world.”
She hopped to me, sending the stool falling the other way.
“This is who we are,” she said. “We are, all of us, the Children of the Longest Night.”
The room erupted in applause again. Schweigen nodded with a proud smile, and I saw Kein wipe a tear from his eye.
“May the Mother return,” Flora proclaimed.
“May she return!” repeated the teens all at once.
So I've been working for a damned cult of lunatics all this time. Figures.
“Please,” I said and tugged Flora's side. “Let's just get this over with. You know what I want: answers to my dreams. That's it.” Seeing the suspicious glances cast my way by the others, I took a cautious step back. “No offence, but I'm fine living in this rotting world.” I gulped. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. “For now, at least. Look, Flora, I'm here to do a job. Let me see this Nie.”
“You're going to,” she replied. “He should be right upstairs, just a little bit busy. Working out the details of your job, actually. He said he'd call for us when he's ready to see you.”
“He's done, actually,” said Kein.
Flora's ears perked and she skipped over to him. She leaned on her front legs as she looked into his face. “Well, why didn't you say so? We've no time to waste, Page needs to—”
Schweigen put a hoof against Flora's nose and pushed her down. “Nie came down not long before you arrived and told us to escort New Page upstairs when she comes. Except we've had an unexpected guest right after that.”
Flora gave him a confused stare. “What kind of guest?”
“He called himself Sunbeam Gigglesnark.” Schweigen raised his brow. “Yes, bit of a joker, he was.”
Kein put up a hoof. “B-but the butler let him in, so we knew it was safe.”
Schweigen nodded. “Indeed. That, and Nie told us he'd been expecting him, just that not tonight of all times. He asked not to be disturbed, and well, they haven't come downstairs since.”
Flora's face flushed red as she chewed her lower lip. “Okay so first off, I don't care who this jester thinks he is, Page is more important, and second of all you can't just let anypony waltz up to Nie and distract him from...”
She paused for a breath – she drew in sharply, then threw her head back with an exasperated groan.
“Okay,” she continued. “Page, everpony, I'm sorry about this. I think Schweigen, Klein, and I have some, shall we say, in-house policy to review.” She grabbed Kein by the nape and dragged him out of the room. “Come on, Schweigen.”
Going by their faces, the teens felt just as awkward as I did in that moment.
Leaving the room, Schweigen turned back. “Try not to eat New Page alive, would you, children?” he said before a red aura around the knob slammed the door shut.
I was kind of afraid to look at the others after that.
Turns out my fears were unfounded: be it the scene that played out or Schweigen's scolding words, the children didn't seem at all interested in me now. As I looked at them, I saw each of them quickly avert their eyes and distract themselves with whatever they had. They went back to their wine and cards and the rest – or at least they pretended to as long as I was looking.
I sat down by the window, poking my muzzle past the curtain to look at the night sky and the Mare in the Moon. I wondered if she'd be more honoured or offended to have these ponies worship her with such fervour. Could such admiration have helped prevent the catastrophe, or would they have only worsened it?
“Sorry,” came a quiet voice.
I turned to see Winzig and the little Süß behind her. “Sorry what?” I asked.
“Well I, I kinda got overexcited, jumping on you like that. And, well, I think I started the avalanche.”
“It's alright,” I said.
Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Of course. Everypony gets excited sometimes.”
I could tell she tried to control her grin, but she couldn't. Once again she became a filly before Hearth's Warming, with eyes shining and giggled barely contained.
She extended a hoof. “I'm Winzig, by the way. I mean, I think I've already said that, but, um, in case you forgot.”
I shook her hoof. Looking at her, she seemed even younger than I'd have previously guessed. Thirteen, maybe, or fourteen at most. On the side of her forehead, hidden beneath her unkempt bangs, I noticed a scar of some sort, or more like a burn wound. I couldn't exactly make it out, though.
“So, what's your story?” I asked, taking a glance at the little colt behind her. He quickly cowered behind Winzig, ears pinned. “You aren't his sister, are you?”
She hung her head, then shook it slowly. “Well,” she whispered, “everypony gets excited sometimes, right?” When she looked up, I saw a forced smile under a pair of bitter eyes. She grabbed Süß and sat him in her lap, kissing the top of his head. “I love him, though. Love him to bits. I mean, this whole Moon thing...” She leaned closer. “Don't tell anypony, but I'm not much into it. But... they're family.” She bounced Süß a little. “Our family. I don't know what I'd have done if Kein hadn't found us. Good on him for his initiation. He deserves everything he gets.”
“Initiation?”
“Yes,” she said, “Kein is being initiated into Nie's Inner Circle. He's becoming a Priest. That's why we're all here, really.” She waved a hoof across the room. “All of us ponies Kein found. I've only known some of them for a few weeks, but... we're all a family.”
“Where does Nie fit into this family? For all that talk, he doesn't seem to spend much time with you down here.”
“Nie is, um...” She stroked her chin. “Nie is busy. I think. I've only met him once. A lot of us have only met him once. But it's okay, I mean, Celestia's dogs are hounding him, the bastards. That's why he has the priests and priestesses all around Equestria to help spread his message.”
I cocked my head. “What message?”
She looked over both her shoulders before turning to me with a conspiratorial grin. “Kein told me... he told me Nie is convinced Luna will come back soon. And she's going to need us ponies to welcome her.”
“And you believe that?”
She shrugged. “I'll believe anything, me.”
As we talked, I couldn't help but stare at the scar on her forehead. She must have caught me trying to squint past her bangs; she lifted a hoof to brush her mane out of the way.
On her forehead was not the mark of some accident, but something deliberate: her hairless, burnt skin bulged in the form of a crescent Moon.
“Not much into it, huh?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It's stylish. Needlepins... I mean, Dieb does them.”
I raised a brow. “I've been meaning to ask. What's with the names?”
“They symbolise we're all equal in the Family,” she said, a bit too quickly. Must be a line she'd heard enough times to stick verbatim. “Don't you want a name?”
“I think I'll pass.” Seeing her smile falter, I patted her shoulder. “Hey, maybe later.”
As I touched Winzig, Süß pulled his neck in and cowered in his mother's lap.
I bent down to him. “Hey,” I whispered. “It's okay, it's okay. I'm a friend. See?” I mustered the widest smile I could. By the stars, am I terrible with children. “Are you scared?”
Süß nodded.
“Big, scary world out there, isn't it?”
He nodded again, tucking his head under Winzig's leg.
“You know,” I said, “I didn't have a Papa either.” To that, his ears perked. “Yeah. I know how scary it can be. But don't be afraid. You need to be strong and brave for your Mama. Hey, you're a big, strong stallion, aren't you?”
His expression seemed to ease up – and I detected the faintest hint of a smile.
I heard the door open. Flora marched straight for me, horn lighting up and a red tuft of magic pulling at my side.
“It's settled,” she said. “Come on. We're going upstairs. Whoever 'Gigglesnark' thinks he is...” She made a face as she said that name. “...you are more important.”
“Wait,” I said, “are you su—”
“Yes,” she cut in. “Move it.”
Her magic dragged me outside, much to the protest of Schweigen and Kein. She took me up the stairs, visibly frustrated.
The upstairs hallway branched two ways, both equally dark, lit dimly by but a few candles hoisted in the walls here and there. Though their light let me see a few hanging paintings and loose draperies, I could not appreciate the decoration here as I did downstairs. Not just because of the darkness, but because of the troubling sounds of argument down one way.
“Who do you think you are?” resounded a deep, booming voice from a closed door at the end of the hallway. By the anger in Flora's eyes, that was not Nie. “Do you honestly think she'll listen to you? To you?”
Flora prodded my side, nudging me along. I really didn't feel like interrupting whatever was going on in there.
“It's going to work,” said another, much lighter and wavering voice. “I've got it all figured out. We just need one fragment to reignite the spark of harmony in her heart.”
“A fake will never work. And you're only going to use a single one, too! Even six barely stopped her. It'll agitate her at most. And then she'll draw out your death as long as she can.”
We stopped before the door. Flora sent me a look, putting the tip of her hoof on her mouth and cupping an ear against the door.
“It is a possibility,” said the lighter voice, “but it's why I want you there. If two of her children—”
“You have me risk my life calling me into the middle of the city, and this is why? You do know the dogs are sniffing for me.”
“I admit, it is an ambitious plan. But we will pull through, I can sense it.”
“Even you can't see the future.” He scoffed. “Some prophet!”
“Look. My children will be ready when the time comes. The question is if you'll be there to help us.”
“Your incompetent children? The ones who were tailed halfway across the city? The ones I had to save just so they could come see you?”
There was silence for a moment. “EBSS?”
I leaned to whisper in Flora's ear. “What's he talking about? That wolf—”
Flora just waved a hoof, pressing her ear harder against the door.
“You should know to expect as much,” said the deep voice, “when you're running your entire operation out of Celestia's kennel.”
“Did you see the dog's face?” asked the lighter one.
“No,” replied the deep voice. “Even I know better than to start a fight here. Consider this a gift. Now stop wasting my time with your insanity.”
“No, no, wait!” called the other voice, frantic. “Look. Look at me. If you only saw things my way...”
“Did you just try the eyes on me?” There came a primal growl, almost like that of some animal.
“What? No.” The sound of steps; one set of lighter hooves stumbling backwards, and heavy stomps following and getting heavier with every step. “Yes! I did, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I'm s—”
His words broke into a scream as something roared. A crash followed amidst sounds of struggle and pained cries.
Flora tore the door open and rushed inside while I stood stunned at the doorstep.
There lay a white pony – Wintermist! – whimpering and crumpled atop a broken desk, and a tremendous white wolf standing over him. A single paw, almost the size of my head, pinned Wintermist's chest down as the wolf silenced him by ripping his throat apart. The wolf then raised its head, turning his eyes at us.
“How dare you!” screamed Flora, her horn and amulet glowing red in unison. “Get off him this instant, or I'll splatter you on the walls!”
Winters thrashed and twitched. He turned his head towards us as he grasped to his torn throat with one hoof, gurgling unintelligibly. I heard the others rush up the stairs from below.
The wolf stared at Flora for a moment, leaning his head forward as his nose sniffed the air. He then looked at me, sniffed in my direction – and stepped back, taking his paw off Winters.
I glanced to the side for a second – I was afraid to look away for any longer – and saw Kein coming to meet us at the door, Schweigen hobbling behind him as quickly as he could.
By the time I turned back, Flora had already rushed to Winters and taken his twitching body into her hooves. The others, too, ran past me into the room. As for me, the only movement I made was a step backwards. The wolf's black, beady eyes were still set on me, staring into me, paralysing me.
A shiver ran down the wolf's spine. It sat down, its muscles tensing and relaxing seemingly at random – and is it getting smaller?
The wolf shrunk, its white fur retreating into its skin, leaving behind a short coat of black. Its claws stuck together, and under the skin of the wolf's visage I saw tendons rippling and bone shifting with audible snaps and pops.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes, looking on in disbelief as the wolf turned into a stallion right before me. Stranger still, perhaps, was that none of the others seemed to be fazed at all. Schweigen and Flora dragged Winters away while Kein stood between them and the now-pony.
Although no longer as gigantic as the wolf had been, this stallion still sported an intimidating stature. His charcoal coat contrasted his white mane, and his eyes bore little more emotion than the wolf's had.
He held his chin high and stared down Kein with the casual disdain of a noble. Then he turned his eyes to Wintermist without moving his head. “You had it coming. And now...” He stood up, looking at Kein. “Make way, please.”
Kein ground his teeth – but after a moment, he stepped aside. The transformed stallion casually walked around the broken table, coming for the door – for me. He was but a step's distance away by the time I managed to regain control of my legs and get out of his way.
He stopped as he passed by, setting his eyes on me. He leaned forward, sniffing me again; I couldn't help but to shrink away, to which he gave a satisfied smile.
“To your credit,” he said, head tilted towards the others but eyes on me, “she does seem to be it. I'd recognise the scent of Luna anywhere.” He put a gentle hoof under my cheek, and I froze up at his touch. “Honestly, I'm quite amazed.” He put his hoof down, this time turning fully back towards Winters. “You know what? Your plan might work after all, though I'd much rather bet it'll end the world.”
Shrugging, he began walking down the dim hall, mumbling under his breath. “I've had enough of this damned existence anyway.”
“I'm fine,” came the cracked voice of Wintermist, followed by a fit of nasty coughs. “I am, I really am.”
Schweigen and Flora helped him up, and my jaw dropped; I saw Winters' neck to be entirely intact. That wolf just tore out his throat, yet now he stood on his own hooves as though nothing had happened.
I stumbled closer, unable to take my eyes off him.
Winters patted the shoulders of Flora and Schweigen, stepping up before me. “Your eyes don't deceive you, Page.”
“Is this some kind of a... a trick?” I looked at Flora. “A joke? Did you just want to see my reaction? Well, I don't see the point!”
Winters pointed at a letter opener lying on the carpet, apparently fallen from the broken table. “Nichts, would you kindly get that for me?” Flora nodded, her magic enveloping the thin blade and lifting it into Winters' hoof.
He then looked straight at me, holding the blade up between us.
I took a look at it, then raised a brow.
Before I could ask, Winters jammed the letter opener into his left eye.
“Stars!” I squealed, falling back. As I watched, I felt the prick of the knife in my own body, and the deeper Winters pressed it, the stronger became the pain that coursed through me. “What are you doing?”
Winters leaned closer, twisting the blade in his socket, all without making a sound. Every little squish and turn of the tiny knife made me flinch as though it had been in my own eye. I could feel it scratch the borders of my eye socket and scrape the inside of my skull, squashing, scrunching.
Slowly, he removed the blade – I felt every inch of it slide out of my own eye – and he presented it to me: almost entirely clean with hardly any blood, and what little there was seemed already dry and ready to peel off.
His ruined left eye – a gelatinous mass of bloody tissue – bulged, pulsating to a heartbeat's rhythm. I wanted badly to turn away, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. Even as my eye began to tear up, I couldn't so much as blink the tears away. Gradually, Winters' eye took on a proper globular form, its redness draining away until it was but a clear white sphere.
The middle parted and tore itself a pupil hole. The red colour of his iris poured out from it.
He let the letter opener slide out of his grasp and land with a small thump on the carpet. He gave me an expectant stare, his eyes urging me to have the first word.
I couldn't help but take a step back, and I eyed him up and down. “What are you?”
“Isn't it obvious?” Flicking his undone white mane back, he blinked away one last, stray red vein in his new eye and grinned to expose a pair of fangs among his teeth. “I'm a monster, New Page.”
Without turning, I pointed a slack hoof towards the door. “And... and that other guy...”
He waved an apologetic hoof. “An old acquaintance. We're not exactly different, but not exactly the same, he and I.” He looked the others over. “Oh, no need to give me those looks. I really did have it coming. Just a minor misunderstanding, it's nothing to get worked up over.” He put on a reassuring smile. “It's like saying hello for him, really. Unfortunately he has chosen a different path from mine, and it would appear he decidedly won't reconsider his position any time soon. I was hoping I could convince him to help us, but I should think I blew it. All on me, that one.”
He sighed, nervously brushing his mane with a hoof. “Thank you all for your concern, but as you can see, it takes more than a little sting to hurt me. I should have a talk with dear Page here now. We've been postponing it far too long.”
“A-are you sure?” asked Kein.
Winters nodded back. “Wait downstairs. I'm sure the children are wondering what the commotion was about.”
Schweigen clapped Kein on the shoulder, cocking his head towards the door. Kein gave a conceding sigh, and the two quickly left.
“Even you, Nichts,” Winters said.
Flora's cheeks flushed red. “Oh, I though I... alright.” She turned for the door, but couldn't resist looking back. “Page? We need you. Really.” With that, she left.
Winters waited for the sound of steps to die down, then turned to the door himself. “Wait here, I need to get something.” He cast a glance at the broken table. “I'm sorry about the mess.”
He stepped out of the room, going directly for the door across the hallway.
Only now did I get a chance to get a proper look around the room, finding much of the same displays of wealth and nobility as I had downstairs. The hall basked in the light of an ornate chandelier, and paintings covered the walls. Sofas and chairs cushioned by what looked like the softest materials from all of Equestria and beyond provided ample seating space for the guests that didn't exist.
An array of scented candles burned peacefully on an engraved shelf that somepony must have paid good money for, diffusing a distinct smell of exotic flowers that conjured up images of riches and pretentiousness in equal measure.
I hadn't paid much attention to it before, but the far wall was covered by a gilded, deep-blue curtain. Decoration, I wondered, or are they hiding something back there?
Running my gaze across the walls, I stole a peek outside – and found that Wintermist had neglected to completely close the other door behind himself. As impressive as the hall was, Winters' little study captivated me more.
Half-melted candles lit that room, shining light on scattered pieces of paper and hastily scribbled notes that stuck to every surface. Stacks of books and heavy tomes stood everywhere.
Rather like home, in fact. Though after the previous display, I knew better than to assume Winters was just a kindred spirit.
There on the wall, a little above eye level and lit by a set of newer-looking candles, I finally saw the focal point of whatever research Winters was conducting. It was a rough sketch of a young mare with a wide face, striking features, and a big, bushy mane. What details the sketch provided were perfectly enough for me to recognise the pony – but the initials scribbled into the corner of the paper dispelled any doubt: 'N.P.'
Winters picked up a book and turned. I instinctively looked away, looking at some painting of the Old Castle to pretend I hadn't been spying. Winters came back into the hall, and this time I heard him properly close the study's door.
He smiled, showing the cover of the book: 'Soul Link: A Study of Luna's Fractured Spirit', written by Star Swirl the Bearded.
“Familiar?” Winters asked.
“Hey, I just lifted that the other day.”
“Splendid work on that, if I may say so.” He stepped up beside me, opening the book. “I should apologise for calling you here so suddenly, but it was in fact this book that—”
“Hold on,” I interrupted. “Before we get too deep into this, I'd like to settle a few things. Clue me in a bit.”
Winters looked up, his eyes holding a hint of surprise – or even offence. I didn't care for it. He rolled his eyes and slapped the book under his wing. “Fine. Ask away.”
“First, the obvious. You're not really seventeen, are you?”
“I was seventeen when the Longest Night hit. I was caught by a blood-drinking fiend of Nightmare Moon. A few hours later, I was one of them. I think it is best if I end that story right there.”
Friendly as he was, I still had to take a cautious step away. “You drink blood.” More of a statement than a question.
He shrugged, giving a short chuckle. “I get enough volunteers.”
“And how come I've never noticed your fangs before?”
He grinned, again showcasing his pair of sharp canine teeth. “Among the many extraordinary qualities Nightmare Moon's curse has bestowed on me, I have a skill of, shall we say, subtle manipulation. Simply put, I did not want you to see them.”
I crossed my hooves. “'Subtle' is the last word I'd use to describe you, Winters.”
“Just goes to show you don't know me.” He chuckled again. “I can tell you're concerned. Don't worry now: you've been helping us entirely on your own accord since long before we'd ever met. If you need somepony to blame, that should be Nichts, not me.”
My eyes narrowed as I stared at him. “I don't suppose you bumped into me by accident the other day.”
He raised his brows in feigned fright. “You got me.”
“You know, that's another thing bothering me. The others drummed you up to be some kind of messianic bringer of harmony, and not, well...” I looked him over. “Some weird thing.”
“I suppose the children are a little more impressionable than you.” He looked down for a moment, putting on a smile. “I appreciate their enthusiasm.” He turned back to me. “I'm going to assume Nichts has given you her Children of the Night speech already.”
“She seems to really like giving it.”
Winters grinned. “That she does, though she doesn't get to as often as she'd like. Now, if we could focus on the task at hoof—”
“Oh no, Nie,” I cut in. “That was just the small stuff. Now comes the real question. What was that about Luna back there? Your 'friend' looked at me like... like, I don't even know. And a kid down there, the little colt, he called me... the 'Progeny'?”
His expression lit up. He jerked his wing, flicking the book back into his hooves. “So this is the one by Star Swirl. I'm not sure you understand how astoundingly important it is. In fact, I'm surprised they hadn't moved it into the Star Swirl the Bearded Wing.”
“I don't see how this relates to my question.”
“Patience, Page.” He flicked through the pages, showing diagrams and pentagrams and formulas of potions and magical balms and whatever else – until he stopped about halfway into the book, prodding a hoof into it.
“Here. You know about the Night Guards, right? I'd expect as much from a student of history.”
“Only what little there is to know. Luna transformed normal ponies into these strange, different forms.”
Winters sent me a look and raised a brow.
“Though I suppose,” I said, “you'd know more about that than I do.”
“I know a few things,” he replied. “For example, I know the Night Guards are not like me. They are unlike anything else Luna or even Nightmare Moon had ever created. The difference...” He glanced into the book. “Is right here.”
The passage he pointed out gave a short description – a summary, it seemed – of the ritual used by Luna create the Night Guards. Apparently she'd shear off a piece of her own soul – a process claimed to be immensely painful – in order to 'sew it between the threads of another soul'. It was the magical outpouring of Luna's soul fragment that deformed these ponies and gave them their supernatural powers.
As for Luna, her soul would always mend with time, though 'spectral scars' would remain. Whether these scars would ever heal, or what their long-term effect on Luna might be, Star Swirl could only speculate.
“I cannot overstate the significance of this,” Winters said. “Night Guards had a part of Luna's soul inside of them, all of them. I don't, and believe me, I've gone to excruciating lengths to make sure of that.”
“This is all very interesting,” I replied, “but what does it all have to do with me?”
He smiled, flicking through the pages again all the way to last few. “Here. This is why we need you.”
This chapter was quite long and went on until the very end of the book. Here Star Swirl talked about preparing more experiments on a peculiar subject: a torn fragment of Luna's soul, caged inside a crystal orb. Luna had apparently given this up voluntarily to Star Swirl so that the great wizard might find out more about magic concerning the manipulation of souls.
It also described the enchantments used to protect this priceless artefact from falling into the wrong hooves. A spell had been placed on the crystal that scanned the soul of anypony who touched it. The crystal's container opened only for a select few: Star Swirl, Celestia, or Luna herself.
A 'minor security flaw' had been noted here: it seemed that the spell could not differentiate between Luna and her Night Guards. There was no reason for panic however, as Star Swirl wrote: the Night Guards were immensely loyal and would never think to go against Luna's word. Thus the crystal, and Luna's soul with it, was safe.
Most fascinatingly, the final few entries appeared to have been added after the Longest Night and Nightmare Moon's banishment – by none other than Princess Celestia herself. The piece of Luna's soul inside the gem was apparently still intact, and as far as anypony could tell, unaffected by the magic of the Elements of Harmony. Celestia deemed it too dangerous to study any further, though, and had it locked away...
...in the Star Swirl the Bearded Wing of the Canterlot Archives.
Having read the last line, I closed the tome and turned to Wintermist. I frowned and shook my head. He smiled and nodded.
“No way,” I said. “I can't risk it. I almost got caught the last time, and that was just the Lunar Wing.”
Winters placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Don't worry. I've got this all figured out, and you won't be going alone. Nichts and I will be with you every step of the way.”
I shook him off. “Look, even if we get in there, and even if we find this thing – and these are pretty big ifs, mind you – even then we won't be able to use it. It's got a spell lock, and I don't assume you know any Night Guards willing to help.”
“Like I said, I have a plan.” He cocked his head the other way, pointing the tip of his wing towards the door to his study. “You want to find out about your dreams, don't you? I believe I have an answer, but I cannot be certain. Not until I have the crystal.”
A spark of anger flared up inside of me – I'd had enough of his game. I stomped hard. “What is the answer?”
He took a step back – but by the intrigued smile on his lips, it was not out of fright. He looked me over once, then leaned close.
“I believe you have a piece of Luna's soul inside of you, New Page.”
Swift Sweep
Lullaby arrived at dawn. “Have you heard the—”
I slammed the door behind her and stuffed the night's report into her hooves. “The White Wolf in Canterlot? Oh, I noticed.” I pointed at the pages. “Read.”
She sifted through the papers quickly.
“What, Nichts...” She looked up at me in confusion; I just nodded towards the papers. “This is huge. We've even got a name. 'Flora'. And she dyes her coat... damn. No wonder we never caught her. And you...” She flicked further. “You followed them. You left your post here and you followed them.”
“Was I supposed to let Nichts get away?”
“In fact, yes.” She chewed her lip, shaking her head. “You sure it was her?”
“There is absolutely no mistaking that amulet.”
She read along. “You saw the White Wolf. And he...” She scratched her head. “So this is when you lost them, when he distracted you. No way this is a coincidence. If the White Wolf is working with the Children of the Night... River Flow has to see this.”
“River?” I asked. “TG might be interested as well.”
“Damn it, Swift!” snapped Lullaby. “Do you want Grotto to die? Let's not give him clues on how to find the wolf.” She didn't let me respond. “River got Project Heartbreak after TG got reassigned. He shepherds all the new kids Celestia put on that task.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Yeah, of course. Well, you have the day shift, so...” I held my hoof out. “I'll take this to him right away.”
“Are you sure about that? I'm sure I could break protocol just this once. I mean, you already have last night.”
“Look, if New Page is dealing with the Children of the Night... it hurts me, Lullaby. It really does. But I have to be the one to do this. I need this.”
Lullaby looked back at the pages, nodding to herself in contemplation. “Very well.” She arranged the papers and gave them back. “You be quick about it, okay? No detours. No second thoughts. No doubts.”
I smiled. “I serve Equestria. To doubt would be to harm us all.”