The alicorn's evil laughter echoed down the wreckage of the street. Sky stood before her, the taste of her name still raw on his tongue.
“Nightmare Moon?” Belle said. Her voice was sharp with astonishment. “That silly monster to scare little foals?”
Nightmare Moon's laughter cut off sharply. She looked down her nose at Belle. “I beg your pardon?” Her tone was frigid.
Sky kept himself interposed between the two of them. “Now, now, she didn't mean anything by that,” he said. He glanced back over his shoulder at Belle, and gave her a glare. Did you! he thought at her, but she was oblivious to his psychic effort.
“You're not real,” Belle insisted.
“Belle, you aren't helping,” Sky called back to her.
“Well, she's not!” Belle said. “Is she crazy or something?”
Nightmare Moon snarled. “You impudent little—”
His muscles quivered in cold dread. He spread out his wings, waving them to get Nightmare Moon's attention away from Belle. “Hey, let's not do this, okay? Let's calm down a little. No need to, uhh, no need to make a scene here, right?” Oh crap, I'm babbling, he thought.
Nevertheless, he drew her eye. She stared down at him in disdain, and moved to step around him, but he thrust himself into her path.
“Sit,” she said. She did... a thing to her voice as she said it, and the sound washed through his body like a sickness. The muscles in his haunches quivered and gave way, and before he could quite realize it, he was sitting in the street.
He tried to get back up, still confused by what had happened. One hind hoof pawed weakly at the cobbles, but that was all the power he had over his legs. He looked up at Nightmare Moon.
She arched one eyebrow, a growing smile slinking across her face.
“Wh... what have you...?” he asked. The first pricklings of panic were settling into his gut.
“How surprising,” she murmured. “That prim little solar bitch didn't even undo that much of you.”
“Why can't I get up?” He winced at the pathetic tone creeping into his voice.
Her eyes narrowed. “Because, my little bat, I did not make your kind for disobedience.”
Belle's voice cracked at them. “Quit it, you! Leave him alone!”
Sky's heart ached to hear her defending him, but terror bled through his veins like ice as Nightmare Moon's head snapped around to stare at her.
“Why should you care?” she said. Then she cocked her head slightly and let her lips pull into a faint, sneering smile. “Is he your stallion?” she asked.
Belle's cheeks colored. “What? N... no.”
A despairing little laugh tried to force it's way from Sky's throat, but he choked it back. No, he wasn't her stallion. Sometimes things just didn't work out.
He couldn't bring himself to hate her, and she couldn't bring herself to love him.
He watched as Nightmare Moon stared down at Belle. He struggled to rise, but the most he could coax from his legs was a twitch here and there. Even his wings did not respond when he thought to bypass his legs and hover. Nightmare Moon's will had control of him, and the thought of that sent sickening waves of terror through him. There was nothing he could do for Belle. There was nothing he could do for anyone, himself most of all.
“Well then,” Nightmare said to Belle, “he turned you down?”
Belle's ears drooped. Nightmare smiled. “So, the poor little lovesick mare—”
Belle's lips tightened. She raised her head and stared straight into Nightmare Moon's eyes. “Our relationship is none of your business.”
Nightmare's expression hardened. “Watch your tongue, little pony.”
“I'm watching just fine,” Belle retorted.
Sky saw the snarl taking shape on Nightmare Moon's face, and struggled once again to break free. Still to no avail. But just as he expected Nightmare Moon's full ire to pour upon Belle, the alicorn suddenly whipped her head around to stare up into the sky somewhere down the undamaged portion of Sun Street.
The force that constrained him slackened abruptly, and Sky flapped up to hover a body length or two above the ground. He windmilled his hind legs, exhilarated by his freedom and horrified by what had happened. Was her power over him—over all his kind, he realized—limited in duration? Or had her concentration slipped? Or had she simply chosen to release him? He looked her way, but she paid no heed to him, focused as she was on the sky down the street. He took a glance beyond her, to see what had pulled her attention away from Belle, and gasped.
Nebula was there with over a score of the Night Guard, wings outstretched in a silent glide down to the surface of the street. The tension in his muscles drained away in sudden relief. Nebula must have sent another reconnaissance flight once he'd failed to return, and now she had arrived to take control of the situation.
But there were things she needed to know. Like the fact that she and her soldiers would be facing off against Nightmare Moon herself. Or the fact that Nightmare Moon could turn them into puppets of her will. Sky hovered in the air, poised to dart to Nebula's side; but would that only attract Nightmare Moon's attention and cause her to swat him from the sky with her voice alone? Then again, if she did, might that itself not be warning enough to Nebula...?
He hesitated, trying to think of other options. Scarcely twenty paces away, Nebula alighted with a faint crunch of the cobbles underhoof. The two Wings accompanying her settled gracefully into ranks behind her.
Sky braced himself to fight, thinking of how to support Nebula's plan of attack. Should he hold back and try to figure how best to join in? Or would it be better to attack Nightmare Moon from his position behind her, and hopefully draw enough of her attention to allow an opening for Nebula? Circumstances had left him well-placed to flank the enemy—although to see it another way, circumstances had left him well-placed to get himself killed.
He knew that to fight an alicorn was to court death.
He held himself tautly, his training in the Guard flashing through his mind. But Nebula did not give the command to charge. Nor did she announce to Nightmare Moon that she was under arrest. Instead she bowed down for a long moment, her iron-grey forelock brushing at the ground. The ranks behind her followed suit.
Sky stared, eye wide in horror as Nebula returned to her feet and addressed the alicorn with a single sentence.
“Welcome back to Equestria, Princess Luna.”
No, he mouthed, paralyzed with shock. He nearly dropped to the ground as his wings skipped a beat. What was Nebula doing? Didn't she understand what she faced?
Nightmare Moon herself seemed taken aback. She lifted one hoof, pausing before taking a tentative step forward, staring intently at the ranks of vesperquines.
“So many,” she breathed.
“This is but a sixth of the Night Guard, hastily gathered to greet you, Princess Luna,” said Nebula.
Sky wanted to scream. Your eyes are as good as mine! That's not Princess Luna!
Nightmare Moon slowly scanned the Guard arrayed before her. “You've all been... awaiting me?” There was a hint of wonder in her voice. “You've all been awaiting me,” she repeated, as if treading around the edges of the idea. Then once more, “You've all been awaiting me!” Her lips peeled back into a savage grin, and her barking laughter soon followed.
Nebula waited for the echoes of laughter to fade. “As you say, Princess Luna. We've been waiting for a...” Her voice cracked, thick with emotion. “A very long time.”
Nightmare stared down at her with an unreadable expression. For a long moment the silence held, then she spoke.
“I no longer care to be called 'Luna,'” she said. She paused and let her gaze stray across the ranks of the Night Guard before settling once more upon Nebula. “Your name?” she asked.
Nebula ducked her head in a quick bow. “I am Nebula, captain of your Night Guard, Princess.”
“Nebula...” Nightmare Moon let the name roll across her tongue. “A pleasing name. Very well, Captain Nebula, I have your first orders. Let your soldiers fly to the corners of Equestria. Let them bear tidings to every city, village and hamlet. The Solar Tyrant is defeated! No longer shall the Sun push aside the Moon! Let every pony celebrate the Night without End, for Nightmare Moon has returned to rule the land!”
Sky was watching Nebula as the alicorn spoke, hoping for some indication that she was not simply bending her neck to this creature, some sign that she was buying time, readying a plan. But he could sense nothing from her, save a momentary flinch when Nightmare Moon called Celestia the Solar Tyrant.
Nebula bowed once more before Nightmare Moon. Sky's stomach felt sour as curdled milk. “It will be done as you wish, Princess Luna,” Nebula said.
Nightmare frowned. “My dear,” she said, “the name is Nightmare Moon. I suggest you remember that.”
Nebula held her bow silently. Nightmare stared at her for a long moment. Then she harrumphed and looked away, up into the distance to where the riotous jumble of architecture that was the castle overlooked the city.
As Nebula rose from her bow, Nightmare murmured, “I knew Canterlot Keep as little more than a pile of rocks.” She glanced back down at Nebula and crisply announced, “I believe I shall take a look at what she has done with the place. Attend me once you've arranged the disposition of your forces.” She spread her wings, but paused before launching. “Oh,” she said, turning her head to look back over her shoulder, directly at Sky. “Bring him as well,” she snickered. “He amuses me.”
With that, her wings caught at the air in a strong beat and she surged into the night. Sky stared after her for a long moment, before letting his horrified gaze drop down to Nebula.
For the moment, Nebula had no time for him. As if Nightmare's command had been the most reasonable thing in the world, she stood among the members of the Night Guard and rattled off a set of orders sending them and their subordinates across Equestria. Sky swept to the ground beside her.
“Silverwing,” Nebula was saying, “your squad are all strong fliers. You take Las Pegasus and environs.”
“What are you doing?” Sky cried out. His voice sounded shrill even to him
“Our duty, Private. Now settle down!”
He stared at her as she continued coordinating the dispersal of the Night Guard. When she finished, she looked each of her lieutenants in the eye and then spoke.
“You all know we aren't well-loved throughout the land. Ponies find us eerie and frightening, and we are few enough that we remain alien to most of the population. Nevertheless, you must do your best to reassure them. Tell them Princess Luna has returned, and though she is... disoriented at present, there is no cause to fear.” She took a deep breath, and steadied herself. “This night will end. That's a promise.”
Sky looked from face to face and saw a mix of uncertainty, bright-eyed intensity, and professional calm. They didn't know any better than he what the world was turning into around them. He cursed under his breath.
“All right, soldiers,” Nebula said, “get out there.”
They took to the air, dark wings blotting out the stars. Most of them headed straight for the tower of the Night Guard, to gather their subordinates before setting off across the land.
Sky stared after them, and then turned to Nebula. “They're just going to spread panic across the country!”
She gave a sour smile. “I expect the failure of the sunrise has already done that much.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but Belle came up beside him and touched his shoulder. He flinched at the contact, and immediately felt ashamed. He turned his head to her.
“Sky,” she said. She looked into his face, but her gaze slid away from meeting his eyes. “Thank you. I... was happy when you showed up.”
He grimaced. “Just doing my job,” he said, his voice a little too loud, a little too wild. Damn it, just being near her still left him a mess. Even with her mane in disarray, she was still so beautiful.
She caught his gaze now, and he could see the hurt in her face.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I just—”
“Well then, I'm thankful it was you who was there to do your job.”
He didn't know what to think anymore. Was this like some stage play, where the hero's bravery won over the unattainable mare's heart? Did that happen in real life? Was she giving him a second chance?
The words spilled from him on the wings of hope. “Hey, Belle, why don't we give it another—”
“Don't—” Her voice cut him off like a blade. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut for a moment. Then, with deliberation, she opened them and met his gaze. “Please don't. I... Sky Diamond, you're a good pony. You'll find someone. I'm sorry, but... I'm not the one. I wish I were.” She raised her hoof and gently stroked his cheek. “Be well, Sky,” she said. She turned, and walked back to her shop, her hooves trudging a path through the broken glass on the street as if weighted with lead.
He stared after her, helplessly rooted to the spot as she disappeared into her shop. Nebula gave him a brief moment before snapping at him.
“You planning to go get drunk on duty again, pony?”
Sky gave her a withering look. “No ma'am,” he snarled. He snapped his wings out and lashed at the air, shooting up until he hovered even with the roofline, three floors up. The wreckage of the street stretched below him, and here and there ponies crouched fearfully or ran about in panic. The sight of the chaos filled him with a sick feeling, and he barely acknowledged Nebula as she joined him.
“Aren't we supposed to be doing something?” he said, gesturing down to where a mare was hugging a sobbing colt. Another mare raced past them and turned down an alley, wild-eyed and laughing crazedly.
Nebula bit back a sour laugh. “You just saw me disperse the Night Guard across Equestria.”
Sky grimaced. He didn't like that Nebula had done it, but regardless, the Night Guard in Canterlot amounted to just the two of them now. He and Nebula were not going to restore order on their own.
“But tell me, Private Sky Diamond,” Nebula continued, “just what time is it anyway?”
Sky looked at her questioningly, then glanced across the roofscape to see Canterlot's clock tower. It read a quarter to eight. His eyes widened as comprehension swept over him. “Where is the Day Guard?” he asked.
“Exactly,” Nebula said. “They've been on duty for forty-five minutes, by the clock. So why don't we see any of them?” She boosted higher into the sky, getting a broader view of the city. Sky followed after.
“I think,” said Nebula, “that we should go find the Day Guard while we're on our way to Princess Luna.”
She soared out over the city, scanning the streets below. Sky automatically dropped into wing position, to her left and half a length back.
He peered at the city beneath. Here and there ponies were running about in a state of unrestrained panic, or huddled in near catatonia. There was no sign of the Day Guard. It was distinctly worrisome. “I hope she hasn't... done something to them.”
Nebula pursed her lips. “Did she have time? She would have had to attack their barracks before moving on to Sun Street. We would have known about that as soon as it happened.” She looked at him searchingly. “You were talking to her. How did you judge her state of mind?”
Sky thought about it. “She was dangerous... but she didn't seem she was in a hurry to start killing anypony. She seemed more eager to see their terror.” He bit at his lip. “If anypony challenged her, though...” Sky left the thought unfinished. Mercy and forgiveness did not seem to be qualities the creature he had met valued.
Since no one in the streets was keeping order, Sky spared a glance for the sky in hopes there might be pegasi of the Day Guard aloft. There were not—but he spotted a figure in the air all the same.
“Captain, heads up,” Sky warned, as the figure rushed toward them. “We've got company.”
It was a member of the Wonderbolts, in official azure and gold, with flight goggles hiked up onto his forehead. In a moment he had pulled up in front of them, hovering. He looked strained, in the manner of one who had not embraced panic, but who kept it close at hoof just in case. Sky didn't recognize him, but Nebula addressed him by name.
“Fire Streak. What's your status?”
He gave an unsettled laugh. “That's what I'd like to know. Spitfire took her squad to Ponyville to check on the Princess. The rest of us are wondering what's going on. Do you have any idea?”
“Princess Luna has returned from her banishment and has suspended the raising of the sun.”
Fire Streak stared at her. Sky felt a wave of nausea sweep through him. For her to say that, so matter-of-factly...
Fire Streak's brow furrowed. “Princess who?”
“Nightmare Moon,” Sky croaked. Nebula's head whipped his way and she gave him an acid glare.
Fire Streak just looked more confused. “Nightmare Moon is a foal's tale. She's not real.”
Sky gestured up at the cold orb in the sky, confirming what he already knew. “Do you see the Mare in the Moon? No! That's her. She's free. She's here.”
“That's enough, Private,” Nebula snapped. “Princess Luna is in a... difficult state at the moment. We must be patient. For now, the best thing you can do is to maintain order and calm the citizens.”
“Maintain order,” Fire Streak echoed weakly. “Be patient with the fairy tale monster. Calm the citizens. Okay.”
“...And on that last note,” Nebula continued, “do you have any idea where the Day Guard has got to?”
Fire Streak's ears perked up. “Well, a bunch of them are gathered at Moonbeam Heights for some reason.” He paused. “You want me to go tell them Nightmare Moon—”
“Princess Luna!” Nebula interjected.
“—is invading?”
Nebula took a deep breath. “No, that won't be necessary. Private Diamond and I will speak to them ourselves. You should focus on keeping the populace calm.”
Fire Streak gave a hesitant nod.
“Calm,” Nebula reiterated.
“Yes ma'am,” he said, and dropped away into a dive, soaring low over the rooftops. Sky watched him go, and turned back to Nebula, only to meet her ferocious glare.
“You will not refer to our princess as 'Nightmare Moon',” she said.
Sky thought of Belle, standing with her own determination. Of the creature that had took such pleasure in taunting her and sneering at him. Of his body bending to her Command against his own will. Anger rose in him.
“I've looked in her eyes. That... thing isn't Princess Luna. You've looked in her eyes too. You know what I'm saying is true. Nightmare Moon is what she calls herself.”
Nebula met his gaze without a flinch. “So what? If a pony calls herself a monster... or a failure or useless... are we obliged to agree? We needn't name her that. And we won't.”
“Are you so sure we'll have a choice?" He shook his head. "She... when she decided she'd had enough of me, she... did something. With her voice. She told me to sit, and I sat. It didn't matter what I wanted.”
Nebula frowned. “Nerves,” she said. “Under stress, sometimes, the strength can go out of you.”
Sky shook his head rapidly. “It wasn't like that,” he insisted.
“I've seen combat, Sky. The first time, sometimes you're just not ready—”
Sky gave a disgusted shrug. It was plain that she was not going to listen. “Believe that if you want to. Look, let's just go find the Day Guard and see what Silver Dawn is up to.”
Nebula considered him a moment, then flapped toward Moonbeam Heights. Sky matched her pace.
“Silver Dawn is on vacation, you know,” Nebula said. “Weren't you paying attention at this week's briefing?”
Sky's lip curled. “If you hadn't noticed, I've been rather busy having my heart ripped out and stomped on until it's a miserable paste of loneliness on the sidewalk of despair.”
Nebula ignored his bout of self-pity. “Crap,” she muttered. “That means Tin Whistle is in command.”
“Who's Tin Whistle?”
She made a sound of disgust. “Relative of Blueblood. It's all about politics. No doubt somebody figured giving him the command while Silver was on vacation would stroke enough egos without making too much a mess of things. I really hope they aren't seriously eyeing him for when Silver retires.”
“Oh, now you're the cynical one. You never know, maybe he'll surprise you.”
Nebula just shook her head and flew on.
They came up to Moonbeam Heights. It was a hillside district in the wealthy quarter of the city, littered with the mansions of the Canterlot elite. The soft glow from various windows and the pinpoints of lanterns scattered throughout the gardens made the hill sparkle like an earthly constellation. But as they drew close, Sky picked out groups of the Day Guard putting up improvised barricades at the entrances to the district and patrolling the area.
“Oh, he's surprised me, all right,” Nebula snorted. “What the hell are they doing?”
They started to circle, looking for a command post. Within moments, a pegasus swooped to their side.
“Halt! Who goes—oh, batpo... err, the Night Guard, I presume?”
“Quite,” Nebula said, favoring the pegasus with an icy stare that was probably lost on him in the moonlight. “Captain Nebula of the Night Guard. Where's your CO?”
“Yes ma'am, this way ma'am,” he said, and led them in a gradual arc downward.
“Umm, ma'am, if I may ask,” the pegasus added, “what's going on?”
“That's my question for your boss,” Nebula said. Then, evidently thinking better of it, she added, “Princess Luna has returned. She's still getting acclimated.”
Acclimated? Sky nearly choked.
The pegasus looked even more confused by Nebula's explanation, but opted not to press his questions. He led them down to a broad lawn before a sprawling mansion. Command tents were still in the process of being set up, and members of the Guard were hurrying about.
They landed at a discreet distance from the commander of the Day Guard. Tin Whistle was a middle-aged stallion with an eponymous cutie mark that suggested a surprising perspicacity in his parents, or possibly was simply one of those coincidences that happened from time to time. In any case, the whistle on his flank was far outshone by the full parade regalia he was wearing.
“Peacock,” Nebula muttered.
At the moment, he was locked in an energetic discussion with one of his lieutenants, a white unicorn stallion with some sort of shield cutie mark. A mustachioed civilian in a neatly trimmed jacket stood with them, lips pursed into a tentative frown.
Sky swiveled his ears to try to catch the conversation, but Nebula was already moving to join them with long, purposeful strides. He hurried after her, listening as best he could to what the lieutenant was saying to Tin Whistle.
“—just don't think that concentrating all our forces here is what we should be doing, sir.”
Tin Whistle gave the lieutenant a patronizing pat on the shoulder. “Now, now, m'boy. I see that you lack vision, a sense of the big picture, a feel for grand strategy. This is why command is left to your betters, such as myself.”
“Sir,” the lieutenant acknowledged in a tone so tightly restrained that Sky was surprised not to see steam leaking from his ears.
The civilian moved in. “To be honest, Captain, the lad makes a fair point. Most of us here have our own security staff, after all; and the city could sorely stand to see the Day Guard's presence.”
“Bless your kind-hearted soul, mister Fancy Pants, but I'm afraid the dictates of the situation—”
Nebula reached the cluster of ponies and broke in abruptly. “Captain Tin Whistle, I presume?”
Tin Whistle glanced her way with an air of dismissive irritation, then started and stared at her. “C-Captain, ahh, Nebula... of the Night Guard.”
“Indeed,” Nebula said. “May I ask as to this... unexpected disposition of your forces?”
Tin Whistle cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. It was my determination that in view of the unspecified nature of the situation, the best course of action was to, as the great Naponylon advised, concentrate our forces in preparation for a counterattack.”
“Counterattack against what?”
“As I said, the situation is unstable.”
Nebula frowned and looked about. “It seems to me that you are preparing this district for a siege.”
“Well, one cannot judge the temper of the masses. We must protect the inhabitants from any misguided rioting of the commoners.”
Nebula raised an eyebrow at the word “commoners.”
“Which is why we need to be patrolling the city, sir!” Tin Whistle's lieutenant interrupted.
Tin Whistle rounded on him. “I've had enough of your insubordinate attitude, Lieutenant Shining Armor. You are dismissed!”
Nebula glanced from one to the other. “Hold up a moment, Captain. Indulge me, and let him stay. I think it's always worthwhile to hear a variety of opinions from the ranks.”
Tin Whistle harrumphed. Nebula cocked an eye at Shining Armor.
“So Lieutenant,” she said, “what do you think the Day Guard should be doing?”
“Patrols,” he answered immediately. “We need to be seen maintaining order, so as to keep the citizenry calm, and we need to assess the state of the city. Walking patrols through all the districts, and pegasus cover to help guide patrols to any hot spots. Then we need to try to locate Celestia—”
“Spitfire took a squad of the Wonderbolts to Celestia's last known location,” Nebula said.
“Right. Okay, so liaise with the Wonderbolts.”
Tin Whistle snorted. “The colt pretends the crisis has passed. Those are post-disaster tactics, inappropriate for the present urgency. An attack may occur at any moment!”
Nebula swung her head his way and gave him a dire look. She glanced around at the finely landscaped gardens and the colorfully decorated mansions. “So you're... here?”
“Absolutely! The most important ponies in Canterlot live here!”
Fancy Pants coughed delicately. “I like to think,” he said, “that every pony in Canterlot—nay, Equestria itself—is among the most important of ponies.
Sky found himself grinning, and nearly started clapping his hooves against the ground in applause. Nebula just rolled her eyes.
“Mister Fancy Pants,” Tin Whistle said, “that is indeed a noble sentiment; but the truth remains that the foremost figures in government, commerce and even the arts reside in these environs. It is of utmost importance that we insure they are well-guarded; and I, Tin Whistle, intend to do precisely that.”
Sky noticed a number of the Day Guard had found excuses to stay within earshot by setting up tents and checking on nearby lamps. Most of them had sour expressions on their faces. He had a feeling Tin Whistle's judgement was not so well-respected among his subordinates.
“You like sucking up to the rich, Captain?” Nebula asked.
The camp suddenly became very quiet.
Tin Whistle turned toward her slowly. “I beg your pardon?”
Nebula shrugged. “It seems to me that the tactical situation you have engineered is incomprehensible under these circumstances, unless one regards it as a political operation intended to impress the wealthy and powerful residents of this particular district.”
Tin Whistle sputtered at her. “That's absurd! You're going to criticize me? I don't see you batponies doing anything!”
“Ah yes, when there is no good response, go on the attack. As for the Night Guard, unfortunately they have been dispersed across Equestria on orders of our princess.”
Tin Whistle gawped. “You've been in contact with Celestia?”
Nebula's lips thinned. “I didn't say that.”
A look of horror filled Tin Whistle's face. Sky saw the ponies of the Day Guard exchanging uneasy glances as well.
“Just what is going on, here?” Tin Whistle demanded.
“Princess Luna has returned from her exile,” Nebula said in that matter-of-fact manner that made Sky cringe.
“Princess who?” Tin Whistle furrowed his brow. “Your 'princess' is the one responsible for this, isn't she? Your kind have gone over to the enemy! I always knew you batponies were a shady bunch!”
Nebula answered in a tone of cold steel. “I assure you, Captain, my loyalty to Equestria is absolute.” She glanced at the gathering ponies of the Day Guard. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered.
She turned back to Tin Whistle, her gaze a blade. “Who are you trying to impress? Looking to advance in the Guard? Or is it for afterward? Do you mean to retire into politics? Looking for a patron? You know, and every pony here knows, that your lieutenant has the right of it. Holed up on Moonbeam Heights is the last place you need to be.” She cocked her head to the side in thought. “In fact, I'll wager there's no chance a place with a name like 'Moonbeam Heights' is in danger.”
Tin Whistle snorted in contempt. “An intuition. How nice for you. I've had enough of your thinly veiled slanders, Captain; not to mention your shocking lack of concern for the lives of your betters who reside here.”
“Now see here—” Fancy Pants interrupted at that last point, but Tin Whistle overrode his voice.
“And frankly, I am offended by your manner, barging in and disrupting my operation. I'll have you know I take the chain of command very seriously; and so I'll remind you this is the day shift, and thus the Captain of the Day Guard has command of the Royal Guard as a whole. It is not for you to second-guess my military judgement!”
Nebula's shark-grin was terrifying to behold. Sky shivered at the memory of the times it had borne down upon him.
“Captain,” she said, in a tone of icy pleasure, “you may wish to check those regulations again. The Day Guard's time of preeminence is not measured by the ticking of a clock, but by the sun's presence in the sky. Do you see the sun?”
Tin Whistle's glance flicked upward for a fraction of a second, then snapped back to bore into Nebula. “Poppycock!” he said. “If that is even true, it's merely an accident of archaic wording, never intended for the situation we find ourselves in.”
“Hmm,” said Nebula. “What an inventive argument. You do recall the entire code governing the Royal Guard was revised not a decade ago?”
Tin Whistle harrumphed. “Of course there would have been oversights.”
Nebula sighed. “Captain, I am going to give you one more chance. Will the Day Guard protect the peace of Canterlot—all of Canterlot—or will you hide on this hill while the citizens panic?”
Tin Whistle exploded. “I will not have some batpony nag questioning my professional judgement!”
Nebula gave a tight little nod. “Right. Then on my authority as Captain-General of the Royal Guard under the Night Sky, I'm relieving you of your duties. You are free to appeal to Princess Celestia...” her voice faltered for a moment, “in the morning.”
“You haven't the right!” Tin Whistle snarled.
“I have just explained how I do, in fact, have the right,” Nebula said.
The ponies of the Day Guard exchanged uncertain glances. Sky bit his lip. The moment was precarious. There was no guarantee that the Day Guard would respect Nebula's position. Or worse yet, some might and some might not, provoking an internal squabble they could ill afford.
Nebula seemed unconcerned with the possibility. She quickly faced the lieutenant from earlier.
“Shining Armor, was it?”
“Ma'am!” The stallion drew himself up and saluted.
“I'm giving you a field promotion to Captain of the Day Guard. Congratulations.”
Shining Armor's eyes widened.
“Disregard that order!” Tin Whistle roared.
Shining Armor looked from Nebula to Tin Whistle and back. The moment hung in the balance. Sky could sense Shining Armor wasn't the type to take advantage of a situation for his own aggrandizement. But just as obvious was his frustration with the incompetence of Tin Whistle.
Shining looked into the gathering crowd of the Day Guard, studying each face in turn. Sky realized every one of them was looking back at Shining Armor, with not a single glance spared for Tin Whistle.
At last Shining nodded. “I hope to serve honorably,” he said. Sky heard a low rumble of applause start from the guardsponies, but it was quickly drowned out by Tin Whistle's squawks of outrage.
“This is a travesty! You hooflicking little suck-up, I promise you your career is over! You've been taken in by this treacherous batpony!”
Shining Armor sighed. “Spirit, Flash, would you escort Captain Tin Whistle to his quarters? He seems overwrought.”
“You treacherous viper!” he shouted as the two led him away. “I have friends, you know! Ponies with influence! I hope you like freezing your tail off on the northern frontier, Shining Armor!”
Nebula cut in. “I'm the one who promoted him, so have your 'friends' talk to me.”
The two guards escorted him into his tent, where his imprecations were at least muffled.
Shining Armor turned to Nebula. “Thank you, ma'am, I—”
“Don't thank me, I made a command decision,” Nebula snapped.
“Ah, right. Yes ma'am. Then can you update me on the situation, ma'am?”
Nebula snorted. “The Night Guard is dispersed across Equestria. This manurebreath—” she gestured to Sky “—and I are on our way to report to our princess, Princess Luna. Which means Canterlot rests on your wings.” She paused, evidently registering that she was speaking to a unicorn. “Er, that is—”
“I understand the metaphor, Captain,” Shining Armor said. “I want to know what we're dealing with in this... Princess Luna. What do you mean by saying she is your princess?”
Nebula's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “She is our princess, that's all. She made us. Just before her banishment. Her pegasus honor guard displeased her, and so she remade them into us.”
Shining Armor's mouth dropped open. “Wait, are you telling me you're actually pegasi?”
Nebula's ears flicked in irritation. “No, we are vesperquines. We have not been pegasi for forty generations. Captain, edifying as it is to have somepony actually show an interest in our history, I'm afraid I don't have much time for this.”
Shining Armor winced. “Right, sorry. Then just one more thing. I hate to ask you this, but is your princess responsible for the sun not rising?”
Nebula sighed and closed her eyes. “That is... indeed the case.”
“Then what of Celestia? Did she harm Celestia?”
“I don't know.”
Shining Armor gulped. “Is Celestia still alive?”
“I... don't know.”
Sky felt his stomach flutter at those words. A scant few hours ago he had been talking to Celestia. Nightmare Moon had spoken of defeating her, but the possibility that she might actually be dead had never even crossed his mind. A terrifying abyss opened in his mind at the thought, and the world swayed around him, unmoored.
Shining Armor looked ill as well. Nonetheless he carried on. “You told Tin Whistle your loyalty to Equestria was absolute. It doesn't seem like your princess shares that attitude.”
Nebula's eyes snapped open. She looked at Shining Armor with an unsettling intensity. “She will.”
Sky could hardly believe what he was hearing. Had she not seen her? Princess Luna—no, Nightmare Moon, dripping with shadows and madness? How could Nebula say such a thing? Laughter bubbled from his throat, startling him with its rawness.
“Shut it down, soldier!” Nebula barked at him.
Sky stared at her, then glanced to Shining Armor. “He needs to know,” Sky said.
“What are you going on about now?” Nebula asked.
Sky directed his answer to Shining Armor. “She can command us against our will.”
Nebula rolled her eyes. “You were frightened. You froze up. Sometimes it happens.”
“It wasn't like that,” Sky growled. He stared into her eyes defiantly. “It wasn't like that at all.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. He could sense his own doom in her hard eyes, the promise of thousands of laps around the Night Guard training course. But he'd be damned if he was going to back down over her rejection of the truth.
To his surprise, it was she whose gaze flinched away. “There's no time for this crap,” she snarled, and launched herself into a hover. “Shining Armor, you must follow your own judgement; but I promise you, this night will not last forever." With a flick of her wings, she arced higher. "Sky Diamond, to me," she called. "We have detoured enough on the way to our princess.”
Sky followed her up, sparing a backward glance at Shining Armor. For a moment, the unicorn tried to track their progress, but his eyes were plainly ill-suited to the night. He turned to his soldiers, and began snapping out orders.
Sky fell in beside Nebula. She held to a sedate pace toward the palace.
“You must like flying twenty-furlong wind sprints, Private. You're going to be doing a lot of them,” she said in a dry tone.
Sky flickered a smile. “I thought it was clear I was aiming for the brig.”
“That'd be much too easy on you.” She glanced alongside at him, and pursed her lips.
“Are you thinking of running?” she asked.
Startled, he paused, hovering in place.
“Yes,” he said. “That's exactly what we should do.”
She twisted her wings and flipped around in front of him, nose to nose. “Celestia offered to undo the Blessing, and remake you into a pegasus pony. You turned her down.”
“I didn't exactly know this was coming!”
“So what are you saying? You'd take her up on it now?”
Sky hovered, silently scowling.
“That offer has always been open to us. And you've always turned it down.”
Sky backpedaled from her, and crossed his front legs across his chest. “So what's your point?”
“You're a vesperquine. Not a pegasus. You don't want to be a pegasus. You love the night, and you want to go on loving the night. And inside you there is something that longs for our princess, and will never give up hope for her.”
Sky kicked at the air with one hind hoof. “And maybe she put that in us too,” he snarled. “You've seen her! How can you even talk this way? She's no princess of cool evening breezes and lovers' trysts. She's Nightmare Moon! Whatever was Princess Luna, whatever part of her that was, she put it aside and forgot it long ago.”
Nebula gave a sharp nod. “Then we have to remind her.”
There it was. Straightforward and without a moment of doubt. As if the matter were simply some equation Nebula had long since solved.
Sky was appalled. “You're mad. What are we supposed to remind her of? The way ponies feared and hated her night; or maybe we should help her recall how she had no friends?”
Nebula gave him a cool stare. “No, Sky. We show her we're her friends. We show her we've been waiting for her all this time. We show her we haven't forgotten her true self, Princess Luna.”
Sky hovered. The city spread out beneath him in moon-lit splendor. Off in the distance, Canterlot Palace rose high above the rooftops.
“Sky,” Nebula said quietly, “our ancestors dreamed of this chance.”
Slowly he raised his head to meet her gaze.
“They dreamed of Princess Luna. Not...” he gestured toward the palace, “...that.”
Nebula came up, nose to nose with him. “That is Princess Luna, Sky. She's there, lost in the darkness. She needs friends to show her the way out.”
Sky bit back a laugh, for fear it would turn into hysterical gibbering. “Friends. Meaning us.”
Nebula's voice was gentle. “Who else does she have, Sky?”
He broke her gaze. He didn't want to hear her, didn't want her to make that claim upon him. But truly, in all the world, it was the vesperquines who held the memory of Luna close. It was the vesperquines who cherished her, and her night.
And try as he might, he could not reconcile the pony of those tales with the thing that had sneered and mocked at him as he stood between it and Belle Dancer.
Sky squeezed his eyes shut. “I... can't,” he whispered. “I can't do this.”
Nebula sighed. “Sky, you have to. We have to. Who's going to pull her out of that if not us?”
Sky opened his eyes and looked at her with a pained expression. Nebula bit at her lip.
“Look, Sky,” she said, “she's waiting for us. Both of us. We're all she has. Even if... even if you don't believe, at least pretend. Call her Princess Luna, even if you think it's a lie.”
Sky said nothing. Nebula's sudden earnestness was unsettling.
“And,” she added, “this is important, Sky. You can't ever call her Nightmare Moon.”
“Well, you're a little late on that one,” he said.
She gave an irritated little shake of the head. “Never again, Sky. She is Princess Luna. Always Princess Luna.”
Sky snorted. “Is that an order?”
She gave an impatient snort. “Of course it's an order, you dumbass! Heaven forbid you be left to think for yourself. I can see it right now: 'Private Sky Diamond, how shall we counter the griffon attack?' Your eyes gradually focus on a dust mote just in front of your nose. 'I like hay fries,' you mumble; and then we all become subjects of the Aerie.”
A trace of a smile crossed Sky's lips. This was more like the Nebula he knew.
“Now come on,” she continued. “We've got our princess to meet.”