Twilight Sparkle ran on aching hooves underneath a sky of vivid, glowing red, the lonely and empty plains illuminated by the rhythmic, pulsating light like the blinding sirens she had seen on the tops of streetcars tearing through the streets of Manehattan.
She leaped over a sudden fissure cracking through the crumbling world, an endless drop into an abyss of pure white light. As far as she could see across where had once been beautiful trees or vibrant communities full of happy ponies, there was only signs of this abstract apocalypse, but she did her best to drive back these morbid thoughts as she made her way towards the one far off point of promise, a literal glowing beacon of blue light serving as a glaring reminder of the whole reason she was still pushing herself forwards.
The world around her was doomed beyond repair, and she was the only sign of life across it. Even Zecora’s ghost-like voice was gone, Twilight had done her best to keep the impossible link with the world above active as it slowly faded into silence like the whispered words of an old and dying stallion.
More of the ground beneath Twilight’s hooves collapsed, an immense chunk as thick as a street forcing her to shakily unfurl her wings to cover the distance. She barely covered the distance, beating the appendages with great effort and doing her best to ignore the dozens of feathers spilling out and falling into the white abyss. She had no intention of joining them in the darkness veiled beyond the brilliant light, and managed to glide the rest of the distance and make a landing that was with no measure of grace. Instead, she crashed and rolled two dozen feet, her already injured limbs seeming to scream their protest to the pain like the poor victims in those Nightmare Night movies Rainbow insisted they watch every year.
As desperate as she had been to keep fleeing, from her position as she rose Twilight had a fantastic view of the wave of darkness that had been the very thing she had been fleeing from. It was approaching her without ceremony, no bounding cascades of dark magic or flames of some otherworldly entity, instead a simple line of pure nothingness where existence had once been.
“Luna…” Twilight whispered in horror. When she had left her—no, been forced to leave her—Princess Luna had already seemed to be doing her best to keep herself from falling into darkness, stumbling forwards across the rapidly dying grassland and trying her best to ignore the sensation of the wind sneaking its way through the several gushing tears in her flesh. The whole while, she had been barking at Twilight to flee as though she were a misbehaving pet, insisting that she wouldn’t be fine if she stopped to save her there.
The far off point of promise, the beacon of blue magic, was still calling to Twilight, and stumbling to her hooves she continued on at a limping sprint. Behind her, the wave that was nothing was tearing across the plains at a much swifter pace.
“Twilight Sparkle! Are you quite alright?” the panicked but much-desired voice of Zecora rang into Twilight’s mind, distorted almost beyond audibility. “Have you found the source of Equestria’s blight?”
“Zecora! I see it!” Twilight screamed, ecstatic at hearing the zebra’s voice once more, instead of the static drone it had faded to. “I see her.”
Zecora nodded. It was a strange sensation, Twilight felt Zecora nod, as though she carried some half-forgotten memory of nodding herself, but knowing for a fact that she indeed did not do so. It felt like she was sharing her body with somepony else.
“I have my doubts this exchange shall endure,” Zecora said, and indeed she seemed correct as static overcame part of her sentence. “But you know well the nightmare’s cure?”
“I...I hope so. Is Princess Luna still alright up there? Something...ah...something happened to her down here.”
There was a pause of several seconds, during which Twilight imagined Zecora was travelling the short circumference of her cabin to check on the unconscious Princess of the Night. After about a minute (through which Twilight continued running forwards across the plains in bitter anticipation) Zecora’s voice returned.
“Princess Luna’s unconscious seems quite unalert, but her physical self does not seem to be hurt.”
“Good,” Twilight muttered, although she knew it was hardly any consolation. “I’m almost there, Zecora. Anything else I should know?”
Silence, save for the persistent drone of the magic Zecora had been using, sounding like a roaring waterfall and completely obscuring whatever it was Zecora’s response would have been. Twilight sighed and continued towards the pulsating blue tower, arching blue lightning ripping through the red sky above, doing her best to ignore the end of all known reality quickly rushing closer behind her.
***
Earlier
***
The end of Equestria came—as it so often did—in the form of a letter, addressed politely in Princess Luna's posh writing on ancient parchment, sealed closed with a magical seal the likes Twilight had not seen outside of Daring Do novels and magic encyclopedias.
It was one thing to seal a letter for nopony else to be able to read it (Twilight herself sometimes did it simply to practice the admittedly worthless talent) but the seal Luna had put in place was nothing of the sort. Twilight could feel the prickling sensation of dark magic the moment she lifted the envelope in her telekinesis to inspect it closer. Her trembling hoof inched towards the long-dried wax seal, and the moment she finally made contact she was greeted with a jolt of electric pain that coursed through her hooves, sending terrible tingling sensations through her body until she once more broke contact.
It was painful, but it was pain of a surprising variety, feeling more like a cruel prank then a physical assault. Twilight muttered a quiet curse, internally running words of derision she would never have the guts to say before Princess Luna. The enchantment was most likely some archaic tradition she had not let go of quite yet, perhaps inherited in times of war when such an enchantment would actually be necessary. Twilight daintily placed the heavy letter onto the arm of her throne and teleported several thick encyclopedias, quickly finding precisely the counter-spell she needed for Luna's seal. It was not relatively difficult, but it was hardly something an inexperienced unicorn could accomplish. A minor challenge for the Princess of Friendship and Magic, and in hardly any time Twilight was fumbling with Luna's letter.
Several pages came out in a flourish onto the round table before Twilight, showing celestial maps, moon phases, complex looking magical equations; Twilight had to rummage through at least a dozen pages before she found actual words addressed to her.
Twilight Sparkle,
Greetings. We are Princess Luna, Stewardess of the Night and Diarch of Equestria. Her Majesty Princess Celestia, our sister most dear, has informed me of the abolition of most further titles, so I shall avoid detailing myself any further henceforth.
Firstly, and as a note of quite personal nature, allow me to once more extend my inexpressible thanks for your deeds. At the time of writing this letter, we have only met once, and this meeting was but two weeks ago, when you and your friends heroically stood afore the fiend that I had become. Indeed, at the moment of dictating this letter I have concluded speaking with my sister regarding the very matter. I have expressed unto her my fears, and she hath told me of a pony of the most approachable and helpful nature, who much like me is presently doing her best to adapt to a changing life.
But at the time you yourself read this letter, it is likely (or so we greatly hope) that we have both completed this adaption. Verily, this letter may be presenting itself to a Twilight Sparkle of considerable age and wisdom, but regardless of the time of its arrival, its importance shall not have diminished from the time my quill leaves this parchment, and when this parchment in turn reaches you.
Fear is ever prominent in my mind, Twilight Sparkle. Fear that...what the Elements of Harmony did, was not enough. I fear that Nightmare Moon is not gone, or that my mind and the darkness still lurking within may be accessed by another creature to bring forth dark desires and malicious intent. I know not if it is possible, for fear is not often in league with rationality, but it is a presence which I have no intention of disregarding as I so foolishly did once in times passed. If you are receiving this letter, then it has indeed proven that this fear indeed was justified, and it likewise proves that approaching my sister with this fear (and her subsequent suggestion), was no mistake.
Mayhaps it is a simple mistake. A delusion of the hexes cast upon this scroll, or a gross overreaction on my future counterpart's panicked self. I know not. Yet despite our admittedly brief meeting at the merry celebration of mine sister's Summer Sun, I feel content placing my trust in you. At the desperate hope that time's forthcoming Twilight Sparkle presently reading this parchment is no vast perversion of the one I call my acquaintance, it is my understanding (provided of course through knowledge from thine mentor and mine sister) that thou art the most suitable pony to help me. This letter presenting itself to you has proven one of three possible options. I shall thus state them quite concisely, for mistakes cannot be drawn towards their nature.
i) Once more, I have slunk into despair's depths, and these depths hath hitherforth twisted us into a being much different from the one composing presently, in your past.
ii) The residual remains of the darkness remain, as survivors of the Element's once-boundless power, and they hath incapacitated me once more.
iii) Some foe of oneirolistic magical properties, like mine self, hath risen, and hath bested me in the plains of dreams.
If the first option is true, I at this point apologize for the actions of my future counterpart, accepting fully in my present state of mind the sins of my future, and subsequent judgement associated against them. If the second or third are true, then presently I am unconscious in Canterlot (or wherever my future counterpart presently stands) to be unwoken from now until evil's end.
Celestia no longer looks to my quill as I write, and so I deliver to you instructions, Twilight Sparkle, that I have no wish she bears witness to. Of the spells I have attached are detailed diagrams of the nightsky exactly as I like it. I feel the need to share them, for if you fail I shall no longer be present to bring them forth. I beg you, for the sake of Equestria, to seek forth a pony of magical ability to allow you to, as I can, enter the realm of dreams. In my brief time here in Equestria I have hunted for a 'oneirologist' as they were so called in my day. In my jealousy and rage a thousand years past, I foolishly and childishly saw fit to destroy this knowledge, hexing the dreamscape so that even my sister could have no authority within.
In this future age, I have found but one dreamwalker besides myself, and have included details about her amongst this parcel's varying contents.
Thanking you humbly, and respectfully in your debt from now until the bounds of eternity,
Her Majesty Princess Luna.