That night, the majority of the civilians got their first real night of sleep in over four months. For the first time, they had access to beds, running water and were completely safe. They were still very much ‘on the run’ of course, but in the tranquil town, it didn’t feel as if such a thing was taking place. Amongst the youngsters, a spirit of holiday even prevailed, as their parents allowed them to head off and explore their new temporary home. Everypony was able to relax, for the first time since they had begun their flight.
A good number of the guards, however, did not get much rest that night. Regardless of how tired they all were, somepony still had to take the first watch, keeping a look out for anything untoward around the mission. Most of these were ex-Lunar Guards, rather than volunteers from the old army. Thestrals after all, are nocturnal by nature, and their body clocks kept them wide awake throughout the small hours. Not that there was any need. Very little of note happened throughout the night. It was calm, cool and quiet, with a new moon and a beautiful display of stars.
Whilst the moon was now marred by the ghostly image of their fallen princess, and controlled by their bitterest enemy, the night sky itself remained relatively unaffected. Celestia lacked the capability and the knowledge to properly maintain the night sky, insofar as correcting drifting orbit and so forth. In fact, upon Luna’s return, the younger princess had to dedicate the better part of a week to repositioning all the stars that had drifted in the course of her absence.
Some of the senior officers were also still up and about. Flintlock for example, was a light sleeper by nature, and rarely did he sleep for more than a few hours at a time; another habit picked up from his time as a Lunar guard. Having sufficiently rested himself to the point where he now felt wide awake and ready to take on the world, the guardsman had now taken to wandering around his new temporary abode.
As one of the senior officers, he had been given a spot in one of the bunkhouses along with Dusk and the others. Whilst modest by typical standards, to a pony who had spent a quarter of a year in the wilds of Equestria, the simple mattress was a welcome relief, as was the small trunk at the foot of each bunk where a pony’s possessions could be safely stowed. The building itself was equally modest, being little more than a large, wood-framed shed. However, it was warm, dry and suited his needs, so he was not about to complain.
After Flintlock had awoken, he had checked to see who else might be up. He quickly noticed that Dusk’s bunk was also vacant. He had expected the older stallion to rest for a fair while longer. Though he was a thestral like himself, he did not possess the training and habits of a true Lunar guardsman; Flintlock expected him to have slept until dawn. So, after checking with the various sentries, and taking great pleasure in loudly waking up that over eager foal Sentry, he went searching for his commanding officer.
Star Dusk had indeed been restless and had awoken a little after two o’clock that morning. Despite the apparent security of their new situation, he could not shake a rather ominous feeling of uncertainty that he felt in the pit of his stomach.
As was his custom in such a situation, he had begun to pace. But fearing that this would assuredly disturb his still slumbering comrades, he left the bunkhouse and began to wander around the mission, with no destination in particular. He went around all the buildings inside the mission, before heading outside the Moonflower’s walls to check on the few ponies amongst the civilians who were still awake. He then found himself heading up and down the line of the outlying guards, who were dug in around the civilians. He also briefly paused to re-awaken one of his guards who had been briefly claimed by the sandpony (this was actually Sentry, though Dusk could not see him in the dark. Flintlock would wake him again around half an hour later).
In the end though, he wandered back inside the high, stone walls. He eventually found himself standing in front of the Lunar temple. The guards he had leased to Father Moonapple had spent the time most had taken to making themselves at home affecting repairs, as well as cleaning the interior.
It was not a large temple by any means. It barely held a candle to the beautiful cathedral that once stood within the walls of the Castle of the Two Sisters. But it was a temple nonetheless; a place where a pony might find some solace, even amidst the fires of war. Like its brethren, the temple was furnished lavishly. At the far end of the temple, ringed off from the pews, was the alter decorated with a beautiful blue and purple silk cloth. To the left of that, and slightly elevated, was the pulpit, where a minister would read prayers and excerpts of the scripture. Most of it was of course, based far more in fantasy than reality (in fact Princess Luna herself disliked the way she was sometimes portrayed in this revisionist history), but faith is a very useful thing, in war and peace. And of course, the inflated tales of the Lunar princess’ deeds helped reinforce the fanatical loyalty of the thestrals.
The centrepiece though, was on the far wall, above the alter, in full view of all who entered. The stained glass windows were a sight to behold. Forged by the most talented of artisans, these shimmering pieces of art depicted events found in the scripture. In the centre though, was the largest window; a circular affair with an image of Luna silhouetted by the rising moon.
Dusk had found the door unlocked, a custom of most religious buildings, and quietly made his way inside. Upon entering, he removed both his helmet, as well as his horseshoes, just as he had been taught to. The place still needed a little bit of work; there was still a fair amount of dust lying around, but it was presentable enough. Walking up the aisle, Dusk stopped just before the alter to gaze up at the image of Luna. He sat there for a few minutes before speaking out loud.
Bowing deeply to the princess, Dusk recited an old prayer commonly said during a service. Like most religions, thestrals felt a strong need to confess and be absolved on their wrongdoings, lest they disappoint their princess. A more cynical mind might see this as a clever means of control, however Dusk, who always was a tad more of a believer than most, viewed it as something he did by choice, rather than necessity. The prayer was traditionally sung without music, and Dusk’s sole voice gave it a haunting quality.
“Confiteor nocte omnipotens. Beatae Luna verum princeps. Ad noctem sacratíssimam. Lunam et omnia astra caeli.”
Dusk never could quite remember exactly what he was saying in the long forgotten language of the thestrals, but it brought him comfort nonetheless. After all, there is comfort to be found in routine; one of the appeals of organised religion. After this, he fell silent again, gazing idly up at the image of his princess, wondering if she had heard him.
Presently though, his thinking was interrupted, as he heard the doors of the temple, behind him, once again open to admit somepony.
“I thought I might find you here,” Flintlock said as he entered. Closing the door softly behind him, he walked up to the alter to stand alongside Dusk. “It’s been years since I’ve been in one of these.” Dusk nodded.
“Yeah…me too. It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” Aside from their hushed conversation, the building was silent. It was a comforting silence though, Dusk felt safe where he was; calm and relaxed.
Flintlock didn’t offer any reply. Dusk clearly did not want to talk too much. He could be like this sometimes; wanting to be alone with his thoughts. The best thing to do was let him be. Nothing really required his attention at this late hour. The whole place was quiet, almost as if the war itself had stopped.
He did linger a little longer though. As with Dusk, being in the temple brought on a faint feeling of nostalgia for Flintlock. It brought back memories of a happier time. A time when Equestria was new and bright, where the two princesses would go gallivanting off on adventures, making friends with other species, helping other nations, and defeating villains that threatened their ponies. He was just a lowly guard back then; all he had to worry about was who had which shift and what pranks Luna was planning to pull on her sister.
Now though…that was all gone. In its place, was a world of hardships and darkness, even in the light of the midday sun. Ponies fought each other, other nations squabbled and fought. And even the famous Elements of Harmony were gone; sealed away by Celestia. And worst of all, his own princess was gone for, what to him would be, forever. Perhaps that was what had brought both Dusk and himself here; clinging on to those memories in the hopes that one day, everything would be alright again.
Flintlock shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was little point in reminiscing. All that mattered was the present. They had to reach their new home, then they could think about saving the world. Quietly, and not disturbing the still brooding Dusk, Flintlock left as quietly as he had entered.
Leaving the temple, Flintlock returned to his wanderings again. Still wide awake from his comparatively short nap, it seemed silly to waste the available time. He had already gone around the outer line of guard posts (though by this time, Sentry had once again managed to doze off), so he decided to remain within the confines of the Moonflower for the time being.
Heading past the bunkhouse, and well away from the temple, he found one of the four stone staircases that led up to the large catwalk that ran around the top of the wall’s perimeter. Carefully making his way up, he found himself on top of the makeshift battlements that had been set up. All along the wall, at intervals, there was a guard, be it thestral, unicorn, earth pony, or even the odd pegasus (since Cloudsdale was a loyalist stronghold during the rebellion, it was odd to see a pegasus within the Lunar ranks). These guards were all keeping watch, like their counterparts below, for any sign of activity by the enemy.
As luck would have it, among the supplies that had been found in the mission on their arrival, were a number of telescopes. In thestral mythology, the night sky plays a central role, so study of the night sky was a common activity, as well as purely for leisure. However, these scientific instruments, now repurposed, were being used to search much further than even the sharp eyes of the thestrals could.
In addition to the guards, who if needed could provide some sort of firepower or reinforcement to the outer line if needed, each side of the mission boasted a lone cannon. Flintlock himself had been involved in the rather daring operation to recover them from an old armoury that they had found on their journey. Whilst not ideal, the projected firepower of these, comparatively small guns, could prove vital in a defensive battle, providing a shield to the guards below and prevent them from being overrun.
Flintlock skirted the whole catwalk, pausing here and there to talk to one of the guards on duty. Satisfied that all was well, there was little left for him to do. So, in what he might call a moment of weakness, he decided to have a little fun.
Leaping from the battlements toward the courtyard below, Flintlock opened his bat like wings and took to the sky.
The sun rose steadily into the sky the next morning, bathing the Moonflower in a soft light of the dawn. Already, out in the civilian encampment, ponies were beginning to stir and arise from their slumber. For many, it was quite an odd feeling, awaking to the sunrise. Most of the assembled group were thestrals, and consequently, they had had to change their body clocks for the duration of the journey. The desert was after all, far too cold, and there was no where they could safely rest in the daytime without the constant fear of being discovered by their pursuers.
Before long though, that would be over; when they reached the mountains and ended this journey, they could all return to their usual patterns. For the moment though, they had to put personal preferences aside for the benefit of all.
Since today was their first actual day in San Maretonio, most of it would most likely be spent gathering supplies. The main reason for the town’s existence was as a supply post for ponies travelling to the province of Mexicolt; one of Equestria’s more exotic territories. Everything a traveller could either want or need was available; from food and medicine, to parts for wagons and harnesses. All for a small fee, of course.
The civilians, as well as the guard’s quartermaster, would be kept more than busy today. With the near desperate need for supplies, it was probable that they would strip the town bare, at least, as much as their funds allowed them to. As much as they had, they were not likely to get far with the old Equestrian bit, which bore the markings of both princesses. These had been repealed in favour of one purely depicting Celestia’s seal. Thus the only value they had was the gold on their surface. The ponies did have other things though; gems and other valuables, that could be bartered.
As for the Lunar guards, their mission was somewhat different. Whilst they now had at least some form of defence against an enemy attack, they were not sure how long they had to prepare. Indeed, for the past few months, they had simply been moving as fast as possible away from the danger, rather than engaging the enemy in any way. Now though, in a fixed position, it was vital that Dusk and the others had the lay of the land. Such knowledge can be vital in battle. For all they knew, there was a canyon that could be used to evade pursuit, or a rocky pass that could be used to ambush. So, that was the order of the day.
“Alright, everypony!” Dusk called out from his position on the catwalk. Below him were the assembled guardsmen. “Today is going to be boring and tedious. But also necessary. Learning about the terrain around us, and everything on or above it, may very well prove vital in the next few days.
“You will all be split up into pairs, each with an assigned search area. In your area, you are to make a note of any usable landmarks, from the air, or on the ground for navigation purposes. Also look for anything that may provide some kind of strategic advantage, particularly killing floors. Finally, keep a look out for any movements by the enemy. We can be almost certain that a column this large is being tailed to some degree. If they are spotted early, we will have time to prepare, plan and escape.” Satisfied that he had gotten his point across, Dusk quickly wrapped things up. “Alright, Captain Flintlock will be giving you your assignments. Good luck and good hunting.”
With that, he turned the briefing over to Flintlock, who was also up on the catwalk. In his grasp he held a scroll with the name of every stallion on the duty roster, aside from those who had taken the night watch and were now in dire need of sleep. Working with the various platoon leaders, he had devised a plan for mapping a twenty square mile area around the Moonflower and San Maretonio.
“Alright, as the colonel said, you are all going to be assigned to a particular area. To keep things simple for you idiots,” Flintlock was well versed in the guise of a drill instructor. “We’ve cut the area around our position into squares. Each pair will cover one square mile; so in total we are going to have forty flyers airborne at once. So watch out for traffic and bandits. Right, let’s get this show on the road.”
Flintlock then began to read out the list of pairs and the area they were all assigned to. The ones furthest out would take off first, to avoid the need to dodge other flyers operating in their own area. With that, the forty ponies that made up the reconnaissance operation set off. This left the Moonflower itself with roughly sixty ponies, including those currently dozing, available to defend the mission as needed.
It was around four hours later that the last thestral landed back outside the Moonflower, having flown a round trip of twenty miles, plus however long they had loitered in their assigned area. All around, the reports were the same. There was nothing. No sign of any enemy forces. There also weren’t that many features to this territory. Dusk had hoped that they would be able to find some locale that could provide a tactical advantage to them. But all around, it was just featureless desert, along with hundreds upon hundreds of cacti.
Whilst Dusk was somewhat disappointed by the apparent futility of the expedition, Flintlock saw things in a more ‘glass is half full’ way.
“Look, Star. The way I see it, it’s a case of no news is good news. We don’t need to worry about finding escape routes and strategic areas. Hay, if I were a betting stallion, I’d even go as far as to say the Bright Lights aren’t even following us anymore. For all we knew, they’ve worked out where we were going and decided to leave us to it.” Dusk sighed, realising that Flintlock was most likely correct.
“I guess so, Flint. I guess it’s just I’ve been operating under the idea that we were being chased, and gotten so used to it, that it’s hard to accept that we might be away.” Flintlock smiled.
“This is the last stop before we reach our new safe haven, Star. You’ve gotten us through the worst of it, now all you have to do is take the last few steps. This time next week, we may even be there.”
Just as Flintlock finished speaking, the large old bell on the roof of the temple began to toll. Moonapple was evidently ready for his evening service. The sun was setting after all.
“Well, looks like Moonapple is ready. You coming?” Dusk asked.
“Sure,” Flintlock replied, nodding. “I s’pose it’ll do my immortal soul some good.” He let out a short laugh.
“You can appreciate the work your colts did on the place. How did they take to Moonapple anyway?” Flintlock looked his CO straight in the eye.
“Dusk, that crazy old padre ought to have been a drill instructor!”
Returning to the temple, the two officers found it already filling up with ponies. Given the huge disparity between the size of the building and the number of ponies, it was pretty packed inside. Most were standing wherever they could, although the aisle and the far end were kept clear for the service. It was a shame, Dusk thought, that the temple didn’t have an upper gallery to take a few more ponies in. But this was a mission out on the frontier, not a cathedral in a major city.
At the front end, standing just before the alter, facing the assembled throng, Moonapple was preparing himself. Dusk saw that he had, in addition to using the guards he assigned to help fix the place up, also roped them in to assist with the service. Three of them were dressed in the proper, if ill-fitting vestments of the clergy.
High above, the bell continued to toll for a few moments longer. Like the rest of the temple, it was a simple thing, and a far cry from the beautiful harmonies and melodies that Dusk recalled from his youth.
The pair slowly edged their way forward, nudging past ponies with the manners of a pony from Trottingham. Given their respective ranks, they both naturally, had a seat saved toward the front of the temple. Dusk’s eyes briefly met with Moonapple’s as he made his way forward, the old stallion nodded to him, briefly smiling.
As the two sat themselves down in their respective seats, Moonapple raised his front hooves into the air, signalling for silence. It actually wasn’t too noisy, although there were quite a few hushed conversations going on. The assembled crowd quickly fell silent as Moonapple began.
Turning around, Moonapple faced the alter and the large stained glass window that held Princess Luna’s image. Walking slowly, but with purpose, he stepped into the shaft of light that came through the window. Bowing deeply, to the point where the tip of his horn actually touched the floor, he uttered the phrase ‘Beatae Luna’. This action was quickly mimicked by his aides. He then turned around to face the congregation.
“Greetings, and may the night bless and protect you all,” he said, loudly, so as to be heard by all.
The service lasted the better part of two hours. While none of the ponies in attendance knew it, such religious worship had been something the princesses had tolerated for a few centuries. At first, it had been flattering in a way, but by the time of the Rebellion, both had grown tired of the pedestal their subjects placed them on. In another few decades, such worship of Celestia would begin to taper off, and eventually simply fade into obscurity.
Moonapple’s service was a perfect example of how high a pedestal the princesses sat on. It included prayers, hymns, offerings, sermons and all other sorts of odd ceremony. All of which was directed at Princess Luna. One might have thought that knowing that their deity had been imprisoned would be sufficient to cause a loss of faith. But in fact, this catastrophe had strengthened the faith of many ponies, on both sides. Whereas Equestria itself would soon distance itself from such religion for the most part, the thestral settlements would continue to maintain their own temples for their entire exile.
In fact, this continued into modern times, with the figure of Nightmare Moon being incorporated into the thestral orthodoxy as a sort of anti-Christ, reviled by all.
With the conclusion of the service, the assembled ponies slowly began to file out back into the mission. Many would be heading off to bed, whilst the guards would be again taking up their duty stations for the night. While Flintlock headed back to the small headquarters that had been set up to assign the shifts for the night, Dusk remained behind to talk to Moonapple.
The old stallion was slowly making his way up and down the aisle, closing the pew doors and picking up any books that had been left out. He also was careful to extinguish all the small candles that were lit on the alter and around the room to provide some light.
“That was a wonderful service, Father,” Dusk said as he walked up to him. “You brought back a lot of good memories.” Moonapple nodded, mumbling to himself a little.
“We all need faith, boy,” he replied gruffly. “Something to hold onto in these trying times. I expect you’ll be wanting nightly services starting tomorrow?” Dusk nodded.
“Just a short service, Father. Just something to keep everypony in good spirits.” Placing a hoof under his vestments, Moonapple withdrew a small hipflask and passed it to Dusk in his magic.
“If that is all you want, that should do the trick,” he said sourly. Dusk was taken aback at the idea that Moonapple had had that on him the entire service. Clergymen weren’t supposed to drink after all. Chuckling to himself, Moonapple put out the last set of candles and left Dusk to his thoughts.
He was certainly a strange stallion. He was certainly a far cry from the one Dusk remembered from his days as a young colt. That old minister had been a paragon of morality, always keeping the young thestral on the straight and narrow. But this old coot, he drank, and according to Flintlock could swear like a trooper. Like most things though, Dusk couldn’t afford to choose. He still gave a good service, and, to be fair, he did make a good point.