• Published 7th Sep 2013
  • 6,818 Views, 472 Comments

Through A Glass Darkly - SpaceCommie



Nightmare Moon won a thousand years ago, plunging Equestria into perpetual night. Now, as Princess Luna's student, Twilight Sparkle must contend with Celestia's unexpected return as a familiar group of ponies are thrown into conflict.

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The Night Is Always Darkest

“Dragon, take dictation,” Nightmare Moon commanded.

Spike shot Twilight a resentful look, his hands having grown too large to comfortably hold a pen. Twilight met his gaze, but didn’t respond. She couldn’t be expected to cover for him. Not tonight. Spike suppressed a sigh and retrieved paper and pen.

Nightmare Moon began. “I, Princess Luna, decree that the unicorn Twilight Sparkle shall take on a new mission for Equestria. She must continue to study the power of magic. She shall report to me her findings from her new home in Ponyville.”

Twilight resolved to stay calm. “Thank you, Princess.”

Nightmare nodded. “Dragon, you are dismissed.” Spike left the room, stomping a bit theatrically.

“Now that we have concluded with the formalities, my loyal student, let us talk about your mission here. I trust you have read the documents I supplied you with?”

“Of course.”

“Then you are already aware of the situation here in Ponyville. This city is the nerve center of solar terrorist cells across Equestria. Their leader hides here, somewhere. You must find him.” There was a cruel gleam in Nightmare's eye. “I do not expect to have to assist you.”

Twilight gulped nervously. “I won’t fail you, Princess.”

“Nor do I expect you to. You have proven yourself more than capable. I would, however, advise caution. This is not a safe position that I have appointed you to.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“In that case, you should have nothing to worry about. Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight had few illusions about the seriousness of what she was here to do. She just hoped that she’d be able to see her Princess again. Twilight owed her everything. “Goodbye, Princess Luna.”

Nightmare Moon walked out into the smog and noise of the city. Smoke rose from a hundred factories, obscuring the eternal stars above.


It was remarkable that Twilight was even having this conversation. At one point, she had been nothing but just another camp rat. That she had risen so far, so fast, was a result of nothing but utter dedication. Not that it had gotten her respect from anypony but the Princess, anyways.

“My apologies,” Filthy Rich said, completely unapologetically, “but I can’t be expected to roll over for every personal student that comes here asking for resources. I have responsibilities that supersede your petty mission.”

“There’s nothing petty about bringing sols to justice,” Twilight fumed.

“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t like them any more than you do. I’ve already devoted resources to constraining their activities—”

“Constraining? Governor, that’s not good enough. They have to be wiped out, before they—”

Filthy Rich leaned forward. “Twilight Sparkle, don’t think that your personal neuroses give you the right to dictate my office’s actions, royal commission or not. You are not the first personal student that I’ve had to say no to. Frankly, you won’t last long enough to get anything done. I know how this works.”

Governor,” Twilight said stiffly, and walked out.

Damn him. He had never sacrificed anything, never worked relentlessly for years, never… He only had his position because of his connections, more than likely. And if it weren’t for her parents—

Get a hold of yourself, Twilight. If you can do this, nopony will ever be able to humiliate you again. She could be the Princess’s right-hoof mare, her one indispensable servant. And when that happened… Twilight Sparkle smiled.


Applejack, my dear. Come, sit down, let me get you a drink. It’s so rare that you come here—you never were interested in the stallions, were you? Or the mares, come to think of it…

The Princess’s new personal student? Yes, I’ve heard of her. Really, Applejack. You know me better than that. Not a lot of things happen in this town that I don’t hear about.

She came from the camps. You’d be surprised how many of them do. Yes, her parents were sols. Hence, Twilight Sparkle— oh, I’m quite serious. That’s her name. It refers to the time just before the sun begins to come above the horizon, or something like that. They believed that the sun’s going to come back sometime around the millennium. She’s gone to some significant lengths to prevent that name from becoming common knowledge, as you might imagine.

She reported her family to the camp administration eventually, for some particularly egregious bit of heterodoxy. I’m told she was positively vehement in asserting that they must be hanged. Those camps do something to a pony, I declare. But in any case, she got out because of that. She was brought to Luna’s School for Gifted Unicorns, and threw herself into the work. I’m told she’s one of the most magical ponies since Starswirl.

So of course the Princess took an interest in her.

Why? She’s a valuable asset, that’s why. Besides, it helps the Princess keep an eye on her. Oh, and did I mention that she has the most remarkable guard dragon? Oh, I’m sure you’ve seen it around.

Eight feet tall? I should think so. I’ll make an effort to meet her at some point, I believe, and hope that she’ll introduce me to that magnificent specimen.


Twilight had never really gotten used to comfortable surroundings: doors that didn’t squeal incessantly, roofs that didn’t leak, floors that were anything more than the dusty earth. There was always the suspicion that she didn’t belong there, that she would never belong there, and if she screwed up just once, she’d be back where she came from. The thought terrified her.

The mare on the other side of the desk had no such misgivings. At least none that were obvious. She adjusted a worn stetson—it clashed strangely with the clean, well-lit office—and leaned back expansively. “So, Miss Sparkle. What can I do for ya?”

Twilight forced her doubts away and began her planned introduction. “I have to admit, when I started to ask around about who I should contact in the business community and your name came up so often, I was surprised. You don’t appear to own any major companies or—”

“Appearances,” Applejack assured with a smile, “can be decievin’. Mind If I start in on some personal history?”

Twilight nodded, a bit confused.

“I reckon it was darn near inevitable, considerin’ my name, but my special talent is in makin’ alcohol. Not necessarily with apples, but that’s how I got started out. But I’m a bit past helpin’ my daddy moonshine these days. This here’s the largest distillery in Equestria,” Applejack said, a confident smile on her face.

Twilight sensed an opportunity. “How is that when you’ve only reported about a million-bit revenue for the last six years?”

“Your suspicion wounds me, sugarcube.” Her smile remained untouched, but there was danger in her eyes.

Twilight looked impassively at the businessmare.

“Alright, now look here. I am in a tough business. There’s a lot of competition, not much room for error, and I got mouths to feed. So I reckon you can imagine it’s come in useful to work out certain arrangements with the government. In particular, I work with our beloved princess's representatives such as yourself, and they look the other way when my accountin’ ain’t exactly perfect. Everypony wins,” Applejack explained, with that same smile.

Twilight was aghast. “That’s—”

“Oh, save it. Point is, ya can trust me—I like workin’ with y’all. So, what brings ya here?”

The unicorn sighed. “Alright, Miss Apple. I need Night Guard if I’m going to carry out my mission. And the governor isn’t allowing me so much as access to the city police.”

“Ain’t that a darn shame. Explain how it’s a problem for me or mine, and we’ll talk.”

Twilight grinned the smile of a shark spotting legs in the water. “Well, Applejack, it might be a problem for you if somepony were to start asking questions about what happened to Governor Mare. She was poisoned, wasn’t she? And so soon after giving that contract to one of your competitors, too…”

“Before my very eyes,” Applejack said solemnly. “A great loss to us all.”

“I’m sure,” Twilight said, unable to suppress an eye-roll. “I want my Guards. Talk to the governor. I don’t care what you need to offer him. Do we understand each other? If I get them, we don’t have a problem. If I don’t…”

Applejack’s smile was, for once, genuine. “You got it.”

Twilight felt played, but she couldn’t really complain. Could she?


Twilight was feeling good. There was a pleasure to the spectacle, to watching the Night Guard carry out their duties like a well-oiled machine. The abandoned warehouse was glowing with light at this point, and periodically brightened as a spell was cast inside of it. There were occasional screams, but she didn’t mind. She’d heard worse.

A cyan pegasus alit next to her. “All clear, ma’am. Do you want to go in?”

“I think so,” Twilight said, and walked towards the warehouse. “How good did our intel prove?” she asked, a bit awkwardly. The jargon took some getting used to.

“We don’t think there was any solar activity here, but they’ll be taken in for questioning anyways. You won’t want to stick around for that. It’s kind of—”

Twilight interrupted her curtly. “No, I want to see this.”

It was a pitiful, dingy building. Ancient paint peeled from the walls, and it stank of urine. There were bottles strewn everywhere—Applejack’s Applejack, she noted, amused. Seems appropriate for a bunch of sols. She turned a corner and came to a line of ponies watched closely by Night Guards.

A glazed recognition flashed across the face of one of the derelicts. He got up, clutching a bottle aggressively. “I know you,” he shouted, a bit slurred. “You’re that little bitch that got her—”

He charged, and the pegasus from before moved to intercept him, but Twilight waved her off. She enveloped the pony in her magic, and raised him off the ground. He flailed wildly. She regarded him with a sort of vague distaste, as if he were some sort of insect that had wandered too close for comfort. Twilight’s horn flashed momentarily, and he crumpled, his eyes suddenly blank. He fell with a fleshy thump. Twilight kicked his body desultorily.

They all cowered—all, except one. A yellow pegasus, her coat matted and dirty, looked at Twilight with an expression she couldn’t place. It wasn’t fear, or even defiance. It was a wariness; the pegasus was sizing Twilight up.

“Alright, Dash. Take them… wherever,” Twilight said.

Another bust. Twilight hadn’t tracked down so much as one definite sol since she had been given control of this Night Guard platoon. It wasn’t their fault, she was sure. They were thorough to a fault. Everypony left the target hoofcuffed or in a body bag. The latter concerned Twilight. Valuable intelligence could be missed, and they might never know about it. Dash, for instance. Good officer, fanatical about the job—killed suspects left and right. It was infuriating.

Twilight was sure that there were solar terrorists hiding somewhere in the city. Finding them was another matter entirely. Brute force wasn’t working—as good as the Night Guard had been at carrying out raids, that wasn’t doing a thing to tell them where to raid, or when. Twilight briefly debated whether this was a weakness of the Guard in general, or whether the governor had been holding out on her. Either way, the situation required…finesse, as Twilight was beginning to realize.

Her carriage clunked its way towards the library. Twilight wasn’t enthusiastic about hiding behind a half inch of iron everywhere she went, but taking chances on that kind of thing was a good way to end up Dead Personal Student #11. She rubbed the soot off a window and looked out on the dark streets of Ponyville. She thought, idly, that it was a shame it was so polluted. It was scarcely possible to see the night sky.


Usually, Fluttershy was able to remain unnoticed. It was a good thing when you did what she did. At times, though, her aura of naivety, even innocence, attracted unwelcome attention. And any attention was unwelcome in a Night Guard holding room. A Guard sauntered into the room—a captain, judging by the epaulettes on his armor. He looked around, his gaze finally resting on Fluttershy, who was crouched on the floor, her face wearing an expression that seemed to say ‘Please don’t hurt me.’

The captain leaned in towards her, eyes flickering across her body. He leered for a split second, then called the guard by the door.

“I’m takin’ this one over for some questioning,” he said with a faint southern accent, pointing towards the pegasus still cowering by the wall. The guard nodded. The two dragged an inert Fluttershy towards the door. The captain looked annoyed. “I had enough of this, sugarcube. Get up,” he said, kicking her savagely. She slowly acquiesced, rising to her hooves.

“Remember,” he said from behind her, “I will shoot you if you try anythin’.” He gestured towards a gun.

They walked along in silence until they reached a nicer, carpeted section of the building. Another left turn, and they reached a well-lit, clean room. It held a table, a few chairs, and a bed.

“Sit down.”

She did, of course.

“So,” he continued, in a suddenly friendly voice, “how does a pretty little mare like you end up in my jail cell? You haven’t done anythin’ naughty, have you?”

“I don’t think so,” Fluttershy murmured.

“What was that, hon?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, barely louder than the last time.

“Oh. Well, that’s a darn shame,” he said, running a hoof along Fluttershy’s flank.

“Is there anypony who knows where we are?” Fluttershy asked.

The captain leered again. “Nopony. It’s just you and me.” He didn’t remove his hoof.

“Well, in that case,” Fluttershy said, raising her voice subtly, “How dare you! Just look at you, abusing a poor little mare just because you can! You may be a captain in the princess’s beloved Night Guard, but you are still a terrible pony.”

The captain was transfixed by those blue eyes. It was true. He was a terrible pony. How had he never realized it? He looked into those eyes, searching for any hint of forgiveness that might come, anything to mitigate that terrible truth. Tears came, despite himself, more and more, until he finally collapsed, curling up into a ball. Maybe if he made himself small enough, pitiful enough, judgment might overlook him. Fluttershy smirked.

“There, there,” Fluttershy said, stroking a shoulder reluctantly. “You can make up for it. Just take that gun and shoot the window.”

He could make up for it? A pang of joy raced through his heart, and he stood up and shot the window. It shattered, the glass falling into the street below.

“Good. So, Captain,” Fluttershy said softly, dangerously, “How many ponies have you raped?”

Her eyes were judging again. It seemed as if they looked into his very soul, and found it wanting. And he knew then that there was not, and would never be, any forgiveness for him. “I- I- I don’t know!” he sobbed.

“I’m sure,” Fluttershy said, stepping towards the window. “Now, I want you to know something. You are a terrible pony, and nothing you can do will ever change that. You should just take that gun and kill yourself.”

He sobbed, and pulled the gun from its holster. He looked at it for some time, then paused. “Why?” he asked hoarsely.

Fluttershy looked into his eyes and whispered, “Do it.

He whimpered, and raised the gun to his head. She flew out the window, not even bothering to look behind when she heard the gunshot. It wasn’t aimed at her.

Did it scare her, doing what she did? Maybe. But she was always scared, really. Maybe when Celestia came back, she wouldn’t need to be scared. It was something worth fighting for, anyways. Worth killing for.


“My condolences on your loss,” Twilight said stiffly. She tried for a little bit of warmth, but it didn’t exactly come naturally. “I’m, uh, sure you’ll miss him.”

Applejack sighed, and slumped into her chair. “I hardly knew Golden, and from what I do know, he was a damn fool. Given the circumstances, I reckon he was plannin’ on some idiocy with that prisoner. You tracked her down yet?”

Twilight was confused. “You seem to be inter—”

“Miss Sparkle,” Applejack said with heavy emphasis, “he may have been a damn fool, but he’s still family. And nopony so much as touches an Apple without hearin’ from me. Ya understand?”

Twilight Sparkle knew an opportunity when she saw one. “Well, Applejack, now that you mention it…” She scooted her chair closer to the desk. “Arrest records show that we picked her up at a building believed to be harboring solar terrorists.”

It wasn’t a lie, not technically. That raid had basically been a bust, but before that, the warehouse had definitely been believed to be harboring sols. Good enough for government work.

Applejack stamped on the desk. “You’re tellin’ me that a damn sol murdered an Apple?”

"It's a possibility."

“I’m gonna kill her. I am goin’ to kill her, and—”

Twilight raised a hoof. “Not a chance. I need her alive for intel. Leave this to the professionals, Applejack. On the other hoof,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, “if you were to help me find her… I might have some leeway in what happens to her after I’m done. Understand?”

“Rarity,” Applejack said.

"What?"

“Go talk to Rarity. Unicorn that runs a, uh, high class joint downtown. She’s a prissy little prima donna, but in her business, ya hear things,” Applejack explained. “Tell her Applejack sent ya.”


Sparkle says that we’re upping ops tempo. I don’t think I’ll be able to give you warning anymore

What? No, I don’t think she knows about me. She might suspect that somepony is letting you know, but not me. Yes, that’s why. Screw you. It’s not even close to being worth it and you know it.

No, I can’t delay the raids. Are you stupid?


She led Twilight along the edge of the club, the bass thumping in the background. Occasionally, she looked back at Twilight with the intention of breaking the ice. After a few glances with utterly no reaction, Rarity had decided to give it up. In any case, she opened a door and gestured towards it. “Right this way, darling.”

The door closed, and the sound of the club was reduced to a distant roar.

“I help ponies find what they’re looking for,” Rarity said, turning to show her cutie mark. “Precious things, whether it’s a good time or some good company.” She winked ostentatiously at those last words. “I am not surprised in the least that you might come to visit. I’m sure yours is a terribly stressful occupation.

“Now, how might I be of assistance, Miss Sparkle?” Rarity asked, comfortably settling onto a couch. “I could introduce you to any number of charming young stallions, or mares, if—”

“I need information,” Twilight said.

Rarity affected a look of confusion. “Information? I’m afraid that this is decidedly not a library, Miss Sparkle. You'll have to look elsewhere."

Twilight raised an eyebrow skeptically. This debutante better be able to deliver. “Applejack sent me,” she said.

Rarity looked slightly surprised, but recovered gracefully. “Naturally, then. What might I be able to do for you?”

“Sols. What do you know about them?”

“Miss Sparkle, I can assure you that if any such information came my way, I would, as a responsible Equestrian citizen—”

“Keep it to yourself until it was useful. I do have some idea of how this works,” Twilight interrupted calmly. “And right now, you’re going to tell me everything you know. Because that’s how this works now.”

Rarity leaned back. “Certainly, on one condition.”

“No conditions.”

“Now, now, Twilight. You haven’t even heard me out yet.”

Twilight froze. “How do you know my name?”

Rarity smiled. “As I said, I find things. And knowing all about you is a precious commodity indeed. You want information, I want something else. Let’s make a deal.”

“Shoot,” Twilight said, feeling sick. This conversation wasn’t supposed to play out like this.

“I will tell you everything I know, but you’ll owe me a favor, and an introduction to that dragon of yours. Does that sound like a fair arrangement?” Rarity’s smiling face was unreadable.

“I guess,” Twilight mumbled. This conversation didn’t have to be a complete mistake.

“Thank you, my dear. Now, while I would obviously have nothing to do with any of these ponies, in my occupation, you do tend to hear things from others. I’m told that…”

Twilight was shaking her head.

“Is there a problem?” Rarity asked archly.

“You’re holding out on me, Rarity,” Twilight said. “It doesn’t matter to me. Not yet, anyways, but when it does, you’re going to wish you hadn’t. Go on.”

“Well, in the River District, there are a number of…”


Did sleep count as a vice? Probably not, but if it was, it was Fluttershy’s only one, knocking off Night Guards notwithstanding. In any case, Fluttershy loved to indulge in it. The safe house’s bedroom wasn’t luxurious by many standards, but it had a mattress and sheets. That was good enough for her, and she slept in as long as she felt like it.

As such, Fluttershy was already fairly unhappy when the front door of the safe house was loudly torn off its hinges, waking her up. The voice that yelled “Night Guard! Stay where you are!” didn’t put her in much of a better mood.

This, of course, was a raid. “Oh well,” Fluttershy thought aloud. For weeks, they’d been getting tipped off when this was about to happen. It looks like they wouldn’t have that advantage anymore.

This was bad. Fluttershy was deadly in the right circumstances, but these were really not the right circumstances. The Stare required eye contact and time, and neither of those things were likely to be forthcoming. Running would be a good option.

She eyed the window. It was actually more of a boarded-up hole in the wall that had maybe been a window at some point, which was, so far, the only good news. Bucking through glass hurt. The bad news was that there were certainly Guards outside the safe house, and they would have guns. You can’t stare down a bullet.

“Oh, sugar,” Fluttershy swore. There were heavy hoofsteps coming up the staircase. She had seconds, and—she briefly recalled the building’s layout—no way out. Buying time was possible, but…

Fluttershy moved to a corner and sat there, looking terrified. Five, four, three, two…

The Guards kicked open the door and rushed inside, pointing their guns around the room. “Oh, thank Luna!” Fluttershy said as loudly as she could manage. “I’m so glad you’re here. You wouldn’t believe what they were doing to me.”

A Guard’s eyes softened behind his mask. “It’s okay. We’re here to help.”

Fluttershy sprang up and ran to him. “Thank you thank you thank you,” she said, hugging the Guard. She stared into his eyes. “Your gun,” she hissed. “Give it to me.

Confused, he reached into his holster with one hoof and held it out. “Thank you,” Fluttershy said politely, and took it. She fumbled around with it for a second—she didn’t usually use these things herself—before managing to hold it properly.

“Wait,” some Guard called out, “Why the hell does—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, mostly because Fluttershy had just shot him. She flinched a bit at the recoil. These things hurt. The other guards began to turn, but checking a narrow hallway like they were, it took a while. She emptied the revolver in that general direction. These things are really hard to use with hooves… The Guards dropped, though. Fluttershy turned her attention to the Guard she had taken her gun from.

“How many downstairs?” she asked. At this point, the Stare probably wasn’t necessary.

“Um, I think twenty,” he said, shaking.

"And the alleyway?”

“I- I- I don’t know.”

Fluttershy looked into his eyes. “Stay exactly where you are and don’t do anything.

He didn’t nod, didn’t even breathe, and his gaze locked into position, onto where those soft blue eyes had been. Those eyes looked for an entrance to the alley. She spotted one, and dropped softly into it. There was a Guard at the entrance, and Fluttershy tensed, expecting a shot.

Instead, the Guard frantically gestured upwards, towards a fire escape.

Fluttershy flew.


I don’t even know what most of this stuff is for. Medical supplies, some sort of magical equipment… what are we doing here? You know that we’re short on basically everything. This can’t be more important.

Faith? My faith is damn near gone, and it even if I had it, it doesn’t get us guns! It doesn’t get us our ponies back. We need more than that.

Don’t give me that “Trust me, Dash, she’s coming.” You don’t know that! You can’t be sure.

How can you possibly be sure?


Utter darkness, punctuated by crackles of light. That’s all that was visible from a distance, if you were to look across the endless rows of crops towards the ruined castle. This wouldn’t have been remarkable, except for the fact that the castle was surrounded by a small army standing about a mile away from it in all directions, headed by the Princess of the Night herself. They were utterly quiet: not the quiet of peace, but the silence of a predator before it makes the kill.

Nightmare Moon stalked back and forth, her eyes scanning the circle surrounded by her army. A pony stepped towards her, dressed in fancier regalia than the rest. The general, she vaguely remembered. “Yes, General?”

“Princess!” he said, bowing deeply. It was a pretentious exercise, but Nightmare Moon could hardly curb every bit of idiotic preening among her subjects. “I request permission to send a battalion into the castle in order to defend it against…” He stopped, unsure of what exactly they were there for.

“Denied,” Nightmare Moon intoned.

“Princess, the castle would—”

“I can readily assure you that they would not be helpful in the slightest,” Nightmare snapped. “Continue making the preparations I have ordered.”

He grimaced, but didn’t say anything.

They grow far too used to power, Nightmare mused. It was a habit she might have to break them of.

She continued pacing. It wasn’t exactly befitting the stature of a princess, but she barely gave a damn at this point. Nightmare Moon was nervous. During her last confrontation with Celestia, the Sun Princess had been restrained by her pathetic sentimentality. Nightmare couldn’t expect any such mercy this time.

On the other hoof, she had honed her skills since then. It was very possible that she was the most magical being to have ever existed, which was an appealing thought to her. She had reached deep into the Earth to pull the currents of magic that surged underneath Everfree to the surface, where they sparked across the crops that grew where thick stands of trees once did. She had stilled the great tides of magma that the dragons depended on to warm their nests. She had redirected the hot winds of the dayside to flow into Equestria, wiping the—

“Princess?”

Nightmare Moon briefly toyed with the idea of utterly destroying whoever had interrupted her reverie, but that apparently caused various issues in terms of "personnel management". Oh. It was Twilight Sparkle.

“Watch, my loyal student. You should realize what you have been working towards, after all,” Nightmare Moon said, glancing upwards.

She steeled herself, drawing lines of magic from the Earth up from the ground towards her horn, which glowed brightly.

A second later, the castle disappeared.

It was a relatively common misconception that Celestia embodies the sun. It was also a fairly understandable one, especially as the castle and everything within a hundred yards was vaporized by solar energy. It was an intimidating spectacle, but Nightmare Moon could not allow herself the luxury of fear. She waited for the dust to clear.

She could have recognized her from much further than the mile she stood away. Celestia stood up within the new crater, shakily, shining like the sun. Nightmare felt an incandescent surge of rage, and she added it to the magic that built up within her body.

And fired.

Alicorns are not purely physical creatures, and the blast that knocked Celestia to the ground pierced her in ways that defied understanding. It hurt, a lot. She stood up, her horn flashing, and teleported away.

It wasn’t unexpected, of course. This plan had been centuries in the making, and Nightmare Moon was well aware of Celestia’s capabilities. “General,” she called softly. There was no point to raising her voice. “Begin searching for her.”