Journey with a Batpony

by Gulheru

Chapter LXXXIII – Who Are You

Twilight had to confess, the way that yesternight had gone, since its very beginning, had surprised everybody, and the surprise hadn’t been a particularly pleasant one.

She had spent most of the day so far thinking about it, actually, since she simply hadn’t been able to fall asleep. For so long that, at this point, she knew that she had to get up. Do something, just trot around her spacious spire, if she didn’t have the capacity to focus on anything else. She was glad she had made sure in the morning that all of the curtains around the place were closed, for she didn’t feel like putting anything on. She just wanted to meander about while pondering, considering and worrying. Twilight almost felt like she was back home, in her castle, stuck on a particularly tricky, magical conundrum.

The problem was – she felt rather proficient in dealing with those, for she had spent years on understanding the very nuances of arcane arts. Feelings, however? Those were a bit more tricky, and rarely wanted to follow any preestablished patterns and diagrams. Trying to discern them was far more complex, and sleep-depriving, as it was again turning out.

What was it that Twilight had felt at the Grand Peaks Gallery? What was that sudden surge of emotions, that unreasonable pull that had made her not only consider, but eagerly anticipate sharing a tender moment with... with Ebony Crescent?

Was this about her, or about the stallion? She had to admit that intimacy was the last thing on her mind ever since... well, ever since things had happened, on the flight to the Mountain of Crescent. She didn’t feel particularly famished for it, right? Or was she simply unable to discern that? And if the problem, if one could call it a ‘problem’, didn’t lie with her, then what was it about the Count Brother? Was she suddenly so concerned for him that she felt the need to reassure him in such a daring way? Did she feel so connected to his plights?

Or, on the opposite, was she so drawn in by his charm and his handsome features? He was gallant, he was kind, and he was easy on the eyes, without a doubt. With his smooth Equestrian and that bearing, undeniable even after she had seen him in a terrible, sweaty state, he wasn’t a pony that she would just overlook, but...

What caused her to almost throw her reason out of the stained glass window?

‘Almost’ being the core word for this situation, actually, one that definitely helped Twilight feel a little less guilty about it all. For all of the temptation of the moment, Twilight had managed to take a step back. She believed that to have been the much better choice, for anything else would have been definitely too... venturesome. Not to mention that she would have surely put the Count Brother in a compromised position.

She stopped on that thought for a while.

Had Ebony Crescent been... disappointed about that choice? He hadn’t made it known to her, though he had looked a little less lively afterwards, and yet she still believed it to have been caused by the ‘meeting’ with his father. She wouldn’t think that he had planned on her suddenly feeling so inclined to kiss him, though the warm gazes he had been giving her were enticing in the most appealing of ways, whether she would or wouldn’t feel inclined to pay attention to them.

Twilight shook her head, turning in place, and even the quality of the woolen carpet underneath couldn’t entirely muffle the sound of her agitated hoofsteps as she kept trotting around.

One thing had been for certain, she definitely hadn’t wished to tackle the topic straight ahead at the time. Instead, she had preferred to ask the Count Brother for a bit more details about the Gallery itself. As she understood now, Lord Bright Crescent had poured an exorbitant amount of resources into it. Oh, it was showing, without a shred of a doubt, but she had learnt that the location was chosen against the explicit wishes of the priesthood, and regardless of the warnings from the caretakers.

It was almost as if the haspadr had been trying to antagonize all the possible ponies, not that she would share this observation of hers outright with Ebony Crescent. Even if it was the stallion who had hinted at his uncle’s approach to the matter of his standing within the Family! Yes, there was definitely something artistically wondrous about the Gallery, as the way it was organized was objectively breathtaking, but most of the local inhabitants, and, as she had learnt, batponies from beyond the Mountain, viewed the investment as frivolous and ill-conceived.

But there had to be more to it, there simply had to, Twilight was certain of it. She just couldn’t see it yet. This certainty stemmed from the fact that, for all of his faults, Bright Crescent really didn’t feel like a pony that would be so narcissistic, so self-centered, as to go through with such an idea for his own, sick pleasure, and the plight of everypony else.

... why had she wanted to kiss him?

Twilight stopped in place, since she was fairly certain that she didn’t mean the Lord with that particular thought. Not that the clarification made the sensation itself any more understandable, as she still couldn’t quite grasp why had that sudden urge manifested so out of the blue...

Out of the moonlight blue, as it happened, right under the likeness of the Immaculate Moon, in the middle of the Gallery. It felt like a perfectly chosen place, honestly, and she wasn’t the pony that had made this choice.

Twilight shook her head, feeling the stiffness in her body which was begging her for rest against the flood of thoughts in her mind. She stretched a little, unfolding her wings too, hoping that she could actually find a way of relaxing and calming herself enough to catch at least enough sleep to be able to function the next night.

She froze mid-motion, as a shiver traveled down her spine.

She didn’t know why at first, but she couldn’t shake off the sudden feeling that she was being... watched. Quickly she turned around, as if the unexpected onlooker would just stand there, in the room, but nopony else was present, of course. And yet that sensation remained, lingered for a moment longer, and Twilight wasn’t enjoying the fact at all.

Suddenly feeling very immodest, walking around the spire without anything on, she quickly cast a spell to levitate herself a dressing gown... and she heard a click someplace, someplace that definitely wasn’t any of her luggage. Turning her head she again spotted nothing, but she also couldn’t quite tell what that sound had been. Or where had it come from, though her instinct made her shift her gaze to one of the curtains, for some reason.

Was it her, or was it gently swaying?

Making sure that she was properly covered, first and foremost, Twilight began to slowly make her way towards the, apparent, source of the sound. The feeling was gone now, but the ‘echo’ of it remained in her mind, rattling it firmly. She knew that she needed to get to the bottom of this, lest she would not find any rest that day at all.

Her trot brought her in hoof’s reach of the curtain, and she slowly crept even closer to open it in one, sharp move.

The knock on the door that happened that very moment made her let out a squeal of surprise.

Despite it being mindful of the hour, it caused her to stumble back and almost trip over the carpet. Thankfully, she caught herself before finding herself on the ground, but her focus was now completely shattered, split in between trying to discern what had just caused that peculiar feeling and the fact that somepony was at her door, so late at... well, ‘at day’.

She had to prioritize, unfortunately, so she made her way to the entrance, especially since the knocking continued, slightly louder. She did check the curtain with another glance, but it remained motionless, so, steeling herself, Twilight reached out and unlocked the door, instead.

She immediately felt glad that she was prepared for anything and anypony.

“What do you want?” she asked, her question infused with tiredness that wasn’t caused only by the lack of proper sleep.

“Apologies... Honored Princess,” came Midnight Wind’s reply, as it was him who was present outside, wearing a tunic he would normally place underneath his breastplate when the need demanded that. “I’ve heard your firm trotting from the floor beneath, I thought I would check on you.”

Twilight would be grateful, but had her reasons not to show it, like the fact that it was the middle of the day, and she was tired, and it was Midnight Wind talking to her. “Everything is alright, I’m having a rough day and cannot sleep, that’s all. Is that all?” she asked the loaded question, seeing the warrior’s grimace.

To his credit, his tone was much less official and stern as he spoke up again. “No, not really, though I did want to check on you,” he stated, looking down the staircase for any witnesses. “Twilight, please... Could we just talk?”

“Now you want to talk, Midnight Wind,” she told him, not being able to enjoy him saying her name like he had done, at all. “We’ve had so many opportunities to do so, and you’ve squandered them all, as it turned out. I don’t think one more will bring with itself much difference.”

“I would just like to—” he uttered, though Twilight immediately had a response for that.

“It’s not about what you like, Midnight Wind. What you like to achieve, apparently, has nothing to do with what I consider as the simplest form of decency, especially one between ponies that are meant to care for each other.”

The stallion withstood this chastising, though it was costing him, as she could spot. At least his voice remained calm, even if a little disheartened. “I am here, in the middle of the day, because I do care. Not only because I could hear you shuffling in your room.”

“How very noble of you.”

“Twilight, please, I’m not here to—”

“Has it occurred to you that I don’t care why are you here, only that I don’t want you to be here?” she asked, in agitation and rhetorically, though she did receive an answer.

“You’re making that abundantly clear, and yet here I am,” Midnight Wind replied, and to Twilight’s ears it sounded remarkably like a challenge.

“Good for you,” she told him, and was ready to slam the door shut.

She actually followed through with the idea, almost succeeding, but Midnight Wind stuck his hoof through the threshold. He hissed in pain just a little as it got squashed, not that it discouraged him. It certainly did make Twilight feel terrible, though it was his own choice to be so unreasonable as to press on, seeing her displeasure.

“You’re going to have the other foreleg in a bandage, doing that,” she told him, with a little note of consideration that she wasn’t really keen on, and yet she couldn’t stomach the idea of purposefully hurting him like this.

“Half of my body I’ve sacrificed for you. I’ve torn my wing in your name. I am ready to have my hoof crushed, if that’s what it takes. You mean to tell me that none of this meant anything then, and that it means nothing now?”

Twilight hated that she saw before her eyes the very moment in which all of this damage to Midnight Wind had happened, during the blood-bout, and that she could remember so vividly how they had looked at each other in the middle of that violent fight. She regretted recalling how fierce his eyes had been, filled with adoration, loyalty and... and love.

Because that couldn’t have been true. Because there couldn’t be a connection between that and the pony she was seeing before her.

“What do you want?” she managed to ask him, allowing herself to tolerate his presence for a moment longer.

He shook his head, his gaze inscrutable, though his momentary intention clear. “For once, to have my hoof freed. Then... just a moment of your time. Please.”

Twilight entered a fierce battle with herself.

This wasn’t the right moment, nor was this the right place, she felt, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to just close the door entirely the moment he would remove his foreleg from the frame. All the apprehension she had gathered in herself after the dramatic reveal of his infidelity and deception was screaming at her to just stop caring at all, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. She just... It was...

“Stay out,” she commanded him, letting go of the door so that his hoof could be spared, but not deciding to close it after all. “What is it?” she asked, unable to stop distrust and distaste from sullying the question.

Midnight Wind, at least, didn’t look like he was blaming her for that. “Twilight, listen, I—” She felt her eyes narrowing and, like that, the stallion changed his tone further. “Twilight Sparkle, I’m here because I am worried. About your state today, and about things in general. I don’t know what moved you to venture into the Gallery without us, but you’ve left it looking quite distraught by something.”

“And you just need to know what it was, don’t you?” she responded, actually making a face in his direction. “Because only you can have secrets around here.”

“What I need... is knowing if anything happened. What I see before me is that you’re having a restless day, and that is only making me more anxious about you, Twilight Sparkle.”

For some reason, that declaration sounded very sincere, not that it stopped Twilight from a biting comment. “You should have been worried for me when you’ve decided to—”

“I was, am, and will be worried for you until my last breath, whether you will be appreciating, respecting, acknowledging it or not. Kirwe, I will do so with or without your approval, and the fact that I have made horrible mistakes won’t change that even a little.”

“Strong words, Midnight Wind,” Twilight teased him back a little, though she was genuinely impressed of how potent he made those declarations sound. Not that it stopped her from pushing against him a little more. “Where was this backbone before? We wouldn’t be in this situation if you showed such conviction in being honest in the first place.”

Despite trying to be calm and collected, a spark ignited in the stallion’s eyes. “I had enough ‘backbone’ to agree and partake in your interview, though it was an idea previously unheard of. I had enough backbone to choose to befriend you despite the history of our nations. To hopelessly fall in love with you against reason. To overstep the boundaries of my culture in many ways, even to the point of sharing myself with you. To oppose my haspadr who, despite his change of heart later, initially threatened to have my own parents thrown to the lower mines for my affection. To consider turning both to the Immaculate Moon... and the Judging Sun in my supplications. I had enough backbone to brave all of the challenges thrown our way, including being impaled on thorns and possibly ruining my flying abilities entirely,” he enumerated almost in one breath, his tone turning strong, but not combative. If anything, his eyes were beginning to turn glassy. “And I don’t regret any of it. What I didn’t have the guts to do is risk all of my actions being for nothing by revealing that I was a cheating bastard, something that I have regretted ever since it happened, something that I’ve almost taken my own life for – do I deserve such hatred from you for that?”

Twilight didn’t have a response to that, not outright. She was hurt, and nothing he was saying was making her hurt less. He wasn’t wrong, however, even if she couldn’t bring herself to think that he was in any way right.

However, some of what he had just said proved to be a revelation to her, one that she latched onto immediately. “Honored Lord Midnight Eye did threaten what?”

Midnight Wind took a deep breath and exhaled. “You must remember when the wartowneci came for me, when we were still in the Sanctuary. When I returned, spoke some empty batshit aloud, so that Rowan Berry could hear it, if she was told to report on my actions. You knew that the hwalbu haspadr was furious, I didn’t tell you that he was displeased enough to give me a rather difficult choice.”

And Midnight had still chosen me?

That thought suddenly emerged from Twilight’s mind, not that she was entirely pleased by it, for many reasons. It made things even more complicated, for once.

“I had no idea that he could be so ruthless,” she admitted, even if she had had an inclination already that Midnight Eye was the sort of ruler that could go great lengths if the situation, and the well-being of the Midnight Family, required it.

“It’s not ruthlessness. It’s efficiency. He knows that I love my parents deeply, it was meant to set me straight,” the warrior only commented, shrugging a little. “No matter, for it didn’t. So, do you remember what I have told you, there and then?”

“Do I want to remember?” she asked him, trying to sound cold and unfeeling, though without much success.

“I’ve told you that I love you, and that I don’t want to leave you, and I won’t. And that you need to remember that, regardless of what I will say or stay silent about, regardless of who shall be watching or listening.”

Twilight lifted her hoof up, suddenly feeling agitated once more. “You... mean to convince me that you, conveniently, meant yourself and your secrets?”

“That’s not my point, though if you want to burn me as if you were the Judging Sun herself, you have every right to do so. Kirwe, you surely have more than enough power to achieve that, right on the spot,” he told her, and for some reason it didn’t feel like he was exaggerating for the sake of it. “You can hate me to your heart’s content, that does not mean that I have forgotten that I love you. Which is why I came here, because after leaving the Gallery you looked like you’ve just freed herself from some form of a hostage situation!”

“Stop being dramatic,” Twilight told him back, though she wasn’t sure if he wasn’t right, to some extent. Her mind was definitely kept captive to that moment, after all. “I was a little overwhelmed by the place and the artistry, that does not mean that I need you to desperately try and save me from everything.”

“I would do so if necessary, still,” he replied with a warrior’s conviction. “Don’t you see how he looks at you? He was eyeing you before, but here? Now?”

Midnight Wind didn’t use the name, not that any of them needed it. “Oh, so that’s your problem, of course. You’re jealous, and still, even if we had this conversation in much, much better circumstances,” she reminded him, harshly. “But, I get it. It’s not about me, it’s about how this situation makes you feel.”

“To Peraure with how I feel! You’re making me feel smaller and more worthless than Waesper Strumiene did, and yet I’m still here!”

That sentence was piercing, even if it wasn’t Midnight Wind’s pure intention to make it so. Still, Twilight wasn’t going to lose her ground just because of... of how severe he made her sound.

“Don’t you think you deserved, and still do, some strong words? And a lesson or two?”

“What are you talking about, of course I’ve deserve it!” the warrior responded, hissing. “I’ve cheated on my wife, right when she got pregnant, whether I knew about it or not. If that doesn’t make me a terrible pony, then I don’t know what. But I’ve learnt that lesson, Bogine, I’ve learnt it in pain, pain even greater now, knowing that...!” He paused briefly, as the reminder of Dusk Stream’s state and the lost child made his face twitch. “But it was you who made me better, who makes me better still! Which is why I’m here for you, and not even because of some gratitude, though I should show it aplenty, but because I care for you. Don’t you understand it?” he asked, almost in a plea, though nothing about him would suggest that.

Twilight rebuked him, considering all the feeling that had been festering in her. “I have my serious doubts after all that I have learnt.”

Not that he wasn’t anticipating that somewhat. “Hate me if you will, Twilight Sparkle. I haven’t cheated on you, I haven’t turned my back on you. What I did, I did out of fear, and I regret it, you know I do, you must feel that,” he told her, taking a step forward, though that only made her grip the door’s side more firmly. “And now I’m here, out of nothing but respect and adoration for you! I’m here to warn you of that wily lordling, because he has his sights on you, and don’t you underestimate that or him.”

Twilight didn’t have to be told that, she was exactly aware of how the Count Brother was looking at her, she wasn’t a sheltered and unaware debutante, not to even mention what had come upon her in the Gallery. That did not mean that she was going to act on that in any way.

But then came... something. Something manifested right on the forefront of her mind, a twisted idea, a misbegotten concept. Something terrible and cruel, that simply must have been the poisonous fruit of all this disappointment and apprehension about Midnight Wind’s insincerity, watered by her tired, restless mind. Something that, in the worst possible way, she decided to manifest in her reply.

“And what if I were to decide to enjoy that and more from Ebony Crescent?”

She realized a moment too late that she had definitely gone too far. She knew she did, that this wasn’t any sort of righteous anger at him speaking, that this was malice of the highest sort, especially as it was directed towards a stallion.

The stallion whose eyes widened and then turned into pinpricks in but a second, when indignation took shock’s place.

Twilight tried to mend the moment, as unsuccessfully as one could imagine, considering the magnitude of what she had said and inadvertently suggested. “M-Midnight, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what?” he asked, in that cold tone that could freeze one’s blood in their veins, the one that was far, far worse than pure and fiery outrage. She tried to speak again, but he just squinted his eyes a little, and that was enough to stop her dead in her apologetic tracks. “You might view me as but a dumb, proud, headstrong warrior, a coward or a scoundrel, take your pick, but I’m not a fool. I know that tone, and I know that regret following it.”

Twilight wanted to say something, she really did, but Midnight Wind’s stare was potent enough to keep her silent, like the gaze of a furious, undead creature of fables, ready to crush her will for causing him dishonor and displeasure.

When the warrior continued, that cold tone was suffused with disillusionment. “You wanted to be callous, because you believe me deserving of that? Fine. I suppose I agree, my idiocy should be reprimanded, and I would expect nothing else. But like this? And from you, Twilight Sparkle?”

Tears welled in Twilight’s eyes.

He saw that, and she saw the pain manifesting in his own at the sight, but he continued. “I know it’s your hurt speaking, and I know I’m the source of it. But did I really deserve that?” He paused only to take a deep breath. “I thought you better than this. I thought that is why I love you so much.”

“M-Midnight, I...” She wanted to apologize, she wanted nothing more than that, yet the words wilted in her mouth.

The stallion only sighed, shaking his head a little. “Please, be cautious, that’s all I want you to be, especially here. And have a good rest today still, Twilight Sparkle...”

He turned to trot back to his chamber, threatening to leave her behind with this unforeseen, new pain, one for which she was responsible that time, and for which she couldn’t force herself to apologize. Thankfully, as confused and as terrified as she was of what she had said, she wanted to be better, after all.

“Midnight!” she nearly screamed after him. “I’m... I’m sorry...”

That stopped him in his tracks, but his gaze, as he turned, remained cold. “Not as sorry as I’m feeling.”

That was the last thing Twilight could consciously recall without tears or the feelings of absolute distress and disgust. She retreated into her chamber, wishing to lock herself from the world around, not to cause any more damage to anypony.

When she woke up in the evening, she was almost convinced that all of that had been but a nightmare of some sort, but... her eyes felt too sore, and her conscience too heavy to pin that particular fumble on a terrible nightly vision.

‘Fumble’... That didn’t even begin to cover it. Yes, last night brought her additional worries and deliberations, with the rack and the Gallery, and her hurt made her unreasonable, but that... That dreadful manifestation of it had been nothing short of contemptible. She had a right to feel wounded by Midnight’s choices, but that did not give her the right to be wicked, to be wanting to hurt him back...

Twilight pressed her hooves to her eyes, sighing loudly to herself, realizing that she had to brave the night somehow anyway, find a way to deal with this new problem which she had caused herself. And all of that aside from the tiredness of the day which was weighing her down.

She made sure to look presentable with a bath and the choice of clothing, and she took a moment to center herself accordingly, to focus better on her emotions and not let them overtake her, lest she would say something even stupider. She then ventured downstairs, wishing to knock on her entourage’s door, as she had to take the right steps to repair this situation, despite everything else.

However, she didn’t quite reach the floor below before she could hear a conversation coming from the spire’s entrance even further down.

“... zawrogore ipe hab coene ze iae. Kwid bid tu gnyewnu?”

“Asklute, Fyildeza Kwadre, Maednoc Wentr bid—”

“Kwod tueu bratr bid kad. I ia griy ip wela—”

“Iaeu bratr bid kad? Iae nye znatee! Kwomdo mozn to bid?”

Two female voices and a male one seemed to be arguing over something, or at least discussing it rather strongly. Twilight could make out Midnight’s stern voice, as well as Rowan Berry’s calming tone, though it seemed that Countess Ivory Crescent was also with the two, considering the playful notes in that particular, melodic voice?

“Nye ride, tue—”

“Iae mozne rid kwand iae wele, Maednoc Wentr. Iae znate ip bid kad. Ipe iree do karcer kwod to, uai me—”

Twilight was trying to make out something out of the conversation, but the distance and the slight echo of the staircase weren’t helping. The clopping of her own hoofsteps added to the sounds, more so, it seemed prevalent enough to cut the conversation short before she trotted down to the entrance. Spotting by it, without mistake, the three batponies looking in her direction.

Midnight’s eyes turned sad at the sight of Twilight, which didn’t help her at all at that point. Rowan Berry didn’t seem particularly moved, but then again she was keen on avoiding Twilight’s gaze in general over the last couple of nights. At least Ivory Crescent looked pleased about the meeting, there was no doubt about it in her pear eyes.

“There you are, Honored Princess! Good night to you!” she greeted Twilight with a shameless, wide smile. “I see I’ve managed to catch you after all, how very fortunate for me!”

“Greetings, Honored Countess. What brings you here so... early...?” Twilight responded, uncertain if she was accurate enough with that assessment. She was feeling tired as it was, so she couldn’t really discern the time.

“Early enough, I would say!” the other mare told her with a happy grin. “Which is exactly the right time! For I was wondering if I could invite you to have a meal with me!” she offered, expecting the positive reaction and already explaining her motivations. “I wanted to have one with Ebony Crescent, but my lazy brother’s sleeping in, or something. And I get bored dining on my own, because... where’s the joy in that?”

Twilight could think of some merriment which could be had from one’s sole presence during a meal, but she felt that the Countess was not really a pony to look for her pleasures in such circumstances. As to her invitation, well... It would be rude not to accept it, even if Twilight felt like she wanted to do anything but socialize right at that moment.

“It would be a pleasure, Honored Countess,” she said, hiding her reluctance deep inside. “Should we meet at the dining hall, then?”

“That would be predictable and all,” Ivory Crescent commented with a laugh. “No, I chose one of the courtyards this time, for obvious reasons.”

Twilight couldn’t quite make out these ‘obvious reasons’, but she wasn’t going to dwell on that currently. “Right. Again, it will be my pleasure. Should I be ready in—?”

“You’re ready now, and everything’s set!” the Countess replied outright, beckoning her to follow without delay. “You aren’t telling me that the dress you picked is not proper, Honored Princess. I think it’s cute, very colorful!”

Well, Twilight had to remind herself what she had chosen to wear, because she really couldn’t remember at the moment. Thankfully, it turned out that she had chosen another one of the lighter gowns, pink with a floral trim at the bottom. Something that could be described as a ‘summer’ dress, actually, but fitting the more liberal theme of the Mountain of Crescent. Especially since the Countess was, herself, enjoying a light, beige ensemble that was quite transparent trailing down her legs, allowing her to show her shapely features.

“Well... point taken,” Twilight admitted, and was about to turn to Midnight and Rowan Berry, but the Countess stepped in to escort her out with quite the reflexes, instead.

“Oh, please, they will know where we shall be, these two aren’t dull-witted! Come on, it’s just the next courtyard, really!”

Feeling a little, well, ‘kidnapped’ for the lack of a better word, Twilight relented, giving her entourage a glance before Ivory Crescent’s very enthusiasm pushed her to the palace’s corridor. There was nothing to be done but follow its whims.

Whims expressed in more small talk and curiosity. “You might think me prejudiced towards him, but I simply need to know – my dear brother must have bored you to death yesternight, Honored Princess. Or am I grossly mistaken?” the Countess inquired, her pear eyes glinting in a truly impish way.

“Well, could I... suggest that you actually are?” Twilight tried to be tactful, but that only caused the other mare to chuckle heartily.

“Of course you could! It would be a great surprise to me,” Ivory Crescent told her back, leading her straight to their destination, lying but a couple of corridors away. “He’s usually such a bore,” she teased, her eyes venturing someplace up. “Of course, when he opens up, he can be quite a grasping company, but I know him better than most. You need to be a really interesting pony for him to care to make some effort!”

The declaration happened just as the Countess took a turn and stepped out of the passageway into their destined place of dining. As it happened, it was exactly the courtyard which had all of those sculptures about it, in sensual or even provocative poses. Maybe not the best of locales for an evening meal, especially after a troubled day, but Twilight planned on withstanding it. Actually, the pond in the middle, adorned with a fountain of a mare holding a pot from which joyous streams of water splashed all over, including on her, provided a unique backdrop for a pair of chaise longues and a low table, on which a number of dishes were prepared, worthy of the noble twins of the Crescent Family. The only thing missing were both of the participants.

“Apparently I’m not interesting enough for him, though I suppose I know why!” Ivory Crescent remarked, biting the side of her tongue just a little. “Still, he was supposed to be here, as I wanted to talk with him over a fruit or two. And he decided to ‘ditch’ me, could you imagine? He doesn’t even have a ways to go to reach this place, even!” she pointed out while pointing up, at the very spire above, decorated with the Family colors, in which Ebony Crescent had his residence.

“I suppose he must have a good reason,” Twilight remarked, not sure why she wanted to explain the Count Brother, perhaps out of sheer politeness.

“Or a couple of them, as I presume,” Ivory Crescent merely responded, inviting Twilight to the table, her eyes playfully glinting. “And since my worse, twin half is slacking, would you withstand being a fling for a moment?”

Twilight wasn’t sure if she enjoyed the mare’s tone or the choice of wording, but she followed the Countess and lay down on one of the seats. She didn’t stop herself from replying, neither.

“I think I’ll manage, Honored Countess.”

To her credit, Ivory Crescent immediately discerned Twilight’s tone, maybe even more than the latter expected, apparently recognizing that she had been a little too loose and lively with her behavior. “Hmm... I do see that I’m being overbearing for you, Honored Princess. Do forgive me, it’s just my humor and all,” she told Twilight, though before a reply could happen, the Countess leaned in a little, and it wasn’t to grab herself a fruit. “Actually, you do look a little... off, Honored Princess, if you don’t mind me saying. You’re definitely not how you appeared yesternight, before the sightseeing, is everything alright?”

“Well...” Twilight hesitated for a breath, which must have already served as an answer to the Countess, but decided to push through with a full sentence. “I admit, had a rougher day. Sometimes I get those. Nocturnal living is my new standard for the moment, but it doesn’t always agree with me.”

“I can imagine that, yes. I hope you are finding that life is much more interesting at night, however,” Ivory Crescent told her, and actually caused Twilight to giggle a little, though her tone remained serious. “But perhaps I have imposed, and dreadfully, with this invitation. I’m not going to keep you here against your will, if you would prefer to have a calmer evening.”

“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you, but I will be fine,” Twilight assured the Countess. “And, just to let you know, I don’t think I can disagree that I’m experiencing many, many interesting things ‘nowanights’,” she said, making the Countess grin in return. “I simply had some, well, rampant thoughts happening during the day, and I don’t think I’ve had quite the amount of sleep I was looking for. It happens to me, I overthink and overanalyze things.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Again, forgive me for being a bit too pushy after a day like that,” the other mare honestly told her, and seemed most genuine in that declaration. “Truth be told, there are better reasons to toss and turn in the day, and there are worse. May we only have the better ones!” she almost reached for her goblet to make a toast, though a glance upwards made her abandon the idea. She grabbed a juicy orange and weighed it in her hoof, instead. “I wonder if you weren’t the only, restless pony in near vicinity. Do you think I could hit his window with this?”

Twilight would appreciate the playfulness, but it seemed a little overdone to her, perhaps on purpose. “Wouldn’t simply knocking on the spire be more effective?” she asked, and the Countess shrugged.

“Definitely, even if that’s a sadly mundane approach. And this would be a waste of an orange, unless I would actually score a direct hit – that would be fun!” Ivory Crescent remarked, but behind that joke there was something very serious, something she embraced firmer a moment later. “Forgive me, I also wanted to see your reaction, Honored Princess. You had a bad day, without a doubt, your tone, your comments, it all speaks of some turmoil. Something I could help you with, perhaps?”

What a fascinating family the Crescents were, at least those at the height of local power. For all of her eccentric energy, which was definitely something that connected Ivory Crescent to her uncle, the Countess was showing remarkable amounts of empathy, even by such simple gestures alone. But there was more to it. For a moment, Twilight felt like she was the one and only pony that the other mare was caring about, and it wasn’t just some form of passing craze or a fascination. It was like Ivory Crescent’s whole attention was singularly occupied with trying to make Twilight feel better in some way, and that was definitely something to appreciate.

“It is a most generous offer, Honored Countess, but I simply need to just... get myself some more rest, organize some things in my head, that’s all,” she responded, genuinely thankful. And, unfortunately, knowing that the Countess couldn’t really grant her assistance of the kind she would need.

Not that it meant that Ivory Crescent suddenly stopped trying. “Are you certain? Again, I’m not pushing, Honored Princess, but I am actually quite proficient in listening to the plights of others, helping them find their passions and good humor again. Unbind their minds from predicaments of many kinds.”

“Is that your talent, if I might ask, Honored Countess?” Twilight couldn’t help her curiosity, not that the other mare minded.

Quite the opposite, considering her smile. “No, as it happens, but I do find myself in the unique circumstances of being the future head of the Family.” She leaned in a little, her tone turning jauntily conspiratorial. “I want a head start, so I’m making sure I’m already helpful. I’m well-known in certain circles, I have connections, and I genuinely like guiding others in artful ways, that sort of thing.”

Twilight giggled, especially at the little wink she had received, but she knew that there was something very serious in Ivory Crescent’s declarations, something the spelled a deep sense of... not even just duty, but vocation.

Well, the Countess still wouldn’t really be of help in the matter of, for example, helping Twilight understand why she had wanted to kiss Ebony Crescent, and the reasons for that were obvious, but maybe there was a chance to extend a conciliatory hoof to some other ponies.

“Actually, there is a matter...”

“I’m all ears!”

“It’s not that complex, actually,” Twilight admitted, keeping her voice just a little lower. “Could I ask for a fair meal for my entourage? I don’t want to neglect them, even if have been focusing on enjoying your Mountain mostly by myself. Like a pony, not like an emissary.”

“That’s more than understandable, Honored Princess. I wouldn’t forget anything of the sort!” Ivory Crescent declared with a grin, and not a moment too early, as Midnight and Rowan Berry appeared right there and then. They still wanted to keep their distance, though the Countess summoned them closer with a quick gesture. “Enough pretending like you’re background stooges, you two, however funny that sometimes is. Grab yourself something, anything. From that side of the table, if you want to be puckish, perhaps.” She pointed at the part that Twilight was sitting at. “All of that was supposed to be for my brother, but let his loss be somepony else’s gain, if he’s so occupied with whatever struck and stroked his fancy.”

For some, inexplicable reason, Twilight felt rather strange about that particular expression, though she couldn’t figure out why. Ivory Crescent, though her intentions to help out with a rough day were most genuine, remained a rather mischievous individual.

In the meantime, Midnight turned out to be even more reluctant than Rowan Berry to take something for himself, though both of them finally occupied themselves with some fruit. They still decided to keep a proper distance, however, which made Twilight feel rather awkward. There was no way of apologizing to the stallion in this company, unfortunately, nor to make the two behave more, well, ‘normal’ around her, so Twilight could do nothing else but partake in the meal and be the Countess’ entertainment, though it was also obvious that the noblemare was not considering her merely that.

“So, Honored Princess,” Ivory Crescent inquired after feeding off an orange with merciless grace, “your stay so far has been mostly to your liking, I hope?” she inquired, to which there had to be only one answer.

“Yes, I’d say. Some things I’ve seen I might need to get used to... but one cannot deny that the Mountain of Crescent is absolutely breathtaking, aesthetically.”

“How kind of you. And, of course, I do agree!” Ivory Crescent left no room for interpretation. She actually looked around, and deliberately, taking in all the sculptures in the courtyard, even those that were a little more suggestive than others. “Our Iug is a unique place, as unique as each Mountain of the Seven is, and then a bit more. I hope that, when the right time comes, I will be able to grasp it all, and push it in the right direction. It’s not easy to govern a Family of artists, as you might imagine.”

“I might,” Twilight admitted whilst avoiding prejudice, much to Ivory Crescent’s delight.

“Ha, yes, indeed. For example, we’re not known for things like reliability and punctuality, but this is ridiculous,” she pointed out, slurping up another orange and glancing upwards, clearly having her own brother very much in mind. “Did you have anything planned for tonight?”

“Actually, no, not really. I presume that the Honored Count Brother wished to show me around a little more,” Twilight admitted. She couldn’t quite recall if specific places had been named, considering that her mind had been occupied with something else.

Ivory Crescent rubbed her chin in mocked thought. “Maybe throwing that orange wasn’t a bad idea after all. The lazy bum!” she chastised her brother with a laugh.

Right then a firm click resounded from somewhere above them, one that immediately turned Twilight’s head towards it, even before she even properly registered it. Her reaction was followed by everypony else, as they all looked up in the sound’s direction.

Beyond the balustrade of the closest spire, having just opened the balcony’s doors, the figure of a stallion appeared, looking out and about. His mane was in disarray, as much as it could have been told from underneath, and his loose robes looked like they were limply hanging on his frame, as if he had just draped himself in them, rather than actually put them on.

The Countess nodded to herself, biting the side of her tongue once more, which worked especially well with her fangs in use. Her grin was as mocking as it could be imagined. “Oh, of course,” she commented, as if immediately knowing everything there was to know.

Twilight wasn’t as perceptive, at least she believed that she lacked the necessary context. It looked like the Count Brother had just woken up, as he stretched a little and looked around with an empty gaze.

Until it landed on the courtyard below.

The speed at which his silhouette disappeared from sight caused Ivory Crescent to almost fall off her chaise longue in hysterics.

“Oh! Ha! Now he wakes up suddenly!” she commented, showing her teeth in a fully mischievous grin. She composed herself in record time, then took one of the utensils before her and started rhythmically tapping on her chalice, with quite remarkable precision. “I give him... a minute. Half, if he swoops down right before us.”

Twilight wasn’t sure if she wanted to make a bet of any sort, but she definitely wasn’t expecting Ebony Crescent to be able to make himself look presentable in such a short period. However, not a minute later, the frantic hoofsteps from the spire announced his descent, echoing audibly until his very self emerged from around a corner, entering the courtyard proper in a huff.

“Bogine, ia ecus, ia...” he began, gasping for air. “Ivory Crescent and... whew... Tw—Honored Princess, I’m so sorry, I have overslept, I was—”

“Brother, oh brother mine, calm ye down!” the Countess teased him in a haughty tone. “You got yourself into a neat-enough state only to soak through your gown a moment later?” she asked, and not without a reason, as the first beads of sweat were appearing on his forehead. His mane already looked a little matted, actually. “I’ve found another pony to keep me company, as you can see, I’d say a more interesting one than yours.”

“I would... concur,” Ebony Crescent admitted, giving Twilight a proper bow, despite his winded state. “Greetings, Honored Princess, do... do forgive me for being late.”

“I’m... not sure we set an hour anyway, Count Brother,” she replied, smiling politely, and being glad that the sudden urge from yesternight didn’t return with a vengeance, instead replaced by genuine kindness. “Are you alright?”

It was a decent question, actually. Aside from looking just a little disheveled, despite a valiant and quite sufficient effort to fight it, Ebony Crescent had darker rings under his eyes, as if he spent most of the day without sleep, and... some of the coat on his neck was sticking in weird directions? Also, a very potent fragrance was tickling Twilight’s nose, like from an overabundance of strong perfumes.

However, his voice, as he spoke in reply to her, became calm and collected, if a little bit... keen, just like his gaze. It was as if he was only now taking in her very person.

“Yes. Yes, that I am, thank you for asking, Honored Princess,” he claimed, lowering his head a little afterwards. “I came down to pay my due apologies to you, and my sister, first and foremost, as I believe it proper, and now I will actually go and make myself look presentable.”

Ivory Crescent squinted her eyes and smiled. “I think you look, and act, accordingly.”

“A-accordingly?” the Count Brother parroted, with a little bit of hesitation.

“Absolutely,” the Countess remarked, actually tossing an orange her brother’s way, one that he proficiently caught despite his state. “Have a sip.”

Twilight appreciated Ivory Crescent turning to her helpful side, though it was clear that she also had an agenda, quite likely aimed at ridiculing her brother. However, as Twilight glanced to the side, she spotted even less positive emotions, and clear displeasure. Notably, both Rowan Berry and Midnight were looking at the Count Brother with expressions of disappointment, like a pair of parents trying to figure out what to do with a misbehaving brat. Even with the connection between the two that Twilight was aware of, it was peculiar to see such a corresponding look from both of them.

Ebony Crescent, in the meantime, held the orange in his hoof, deciding not to partake quite yet. Instead, Twilight saw him eye her for a moment, again, with a quite piercing stare that lingered for longer than absolutely necessary, as she realized.

However, the Count Brother soon lowered his gaze, bowing before her and his sister. “My sincerest apologies. To you, Honored Princess, for I have made you wait. And to you, my sister, as I have not appeared at the meal, as promised.”

“I’m sure you can be forgiven,” Ivory Crescent declared with great magnanimity that was very much acted out for the sake of ridicule, especially since her eyes were looking behind the stallion, rather than at him, for some reason. “But I think I’ll leave it for the Honored Princess to decide, hmm?” The Countess turned to Twilight with a grin. “Can we forgive my crude brother his misbehavior?”

Twilight rolled her eyes just a little. “I see no reason not to, Honored Countess.”

Ivory Crescent was about to agree, but her eyes shone and her hoof suddenly darted towards one of the arcades, leading away from the Count Brother’s spire on a level above. “Ha! I do see a couple!” she shouted in triumph, which was most confusing.

That is, until Twilight turned her head that way, spotting two guards marching calmly and stoically alongside the courtyard, not paying attention to the gathered. Two ponies that she could actually recall.

A stallion and a mare, the former brandishing a carmine braid, long and rich, and a little haphazardly done, while the latter’s strikingly sapphire eyes were locked forward, as if forced to. Twilight remember them being assigned as the Count Brother’s personal guardians at the Sanctuary, and their presence was not really surprising, though the Countess’ reaction about them being an apparent reason for Ebony Crescent’s ‘misbehavior’ and sleeping in was str—

... oh.

Oh.

Oh!

Twilight realized that her muzzle felt very warm. Like, very warm, out of a sudden, which had happened alongside the realization what might have been the secret behind the Count Brother’s late arrival, and that of his state.

Yes, that was something that Ivory Crescent was clearly suggesting with that waggish glare of hers. And Ebony Crescent’s own stare betrayed some ‘satisfied’ abashment, as well as hinted that him coming to join everypony for a moment was an attempt at giving the two warriors time to vacate the spire, as there was a chance that it wasn’t their regular sleeping quarters. The Count Brother's try was, however, thwarted by his sister’s keen gaze and her high spirits of inquiry.

Twilight spared Ebony Crescent a side glance. Just who was this stallion?

And why was her prim and proper shock still mixed with an unhealthy fascination?

***

Luna had prepared everything. Which meant both everything she could have thought of and everything that Celestia had suggested.

She had heeded her sister’s warnings well, especially since Tia hadn’t decided to interfere and stop her, having understood the need for this attempt. More so, she had wisely advised preparing certain measures, if things were to take a wrong turn at any point. And the solar alicorn hadn’t even meant the fact that Luna would be trying to contact, of all ponies’, Moonwarden’s unconscious mind, despite her healthy reservations.

Celestia had actually shown the exact amount of caution, Luna would objectively deem as an expert in the matter of walking among dreams. Her older sister’s instinct could serve her well, since this was going to be only a similar situation to Luna’s usual duties, not the exact one.

And so Luna was sitting in her hexagonal Meditation Chamber, painstakingly undergoing the final preparations. One of the hefty tomes with the necessary diagrams was opened right at her hooves, as a last mnemonic, and she had made sure to place various crystals about the dais, infused with some diligently prepared spells, to project around her a form of protection.

Not from the outside world, but rather to have a curtain to escape behind from things that could happen as she would drift through the expanse of the Dreamworld.

Honestly, though, Luna wasn’t sure if the rite would even succeed, not entirely. The call of a mind forcefully kept asleep was described as faint and distorted, easy to miss among the nightly fantasies drifting free about the domain of dreams. It was like that murmur of water flowing around Luna’s mediation platform, a single, a faint sound among manifold shouts and fanfares. Yes, one could attempt to listen for it, precisely pinpoint its source, but it wasn’t the easiest of tasks, instead one requiring great focus and concentration.

Or, as Luna decided to be additionally prepared, a good pin. A ‘tack’ to hold onto, an item or a representation of an idea, in the hopes that its connection to the right pony could aid in the search.

She, thankfully, had a very good one in mind, as she clutched the pocket portrait close to herself, gradually gathering enough power to begin her journey. And while the almanac at her hooves didn’t speak of... of love helping with the whole process, she had hope, a justified hope, that it would mean the exact difference between her success and failure.

Failure had to be on her mind, unfortunately. This wasn’t an easy task, even to somepony of her talent. There were bad scenarios and then there were... worse scenarios with it, so she had asked a number of faithful ponies to come check on her at some point, instructing them exactly what to do, to pull her out of her trance if needed.

She would have to be fast enough beforehoof to even accomplish her quest.

Luna took one last look around, taking in the gossamer curtains and the moonlight from the outside, pouring into the chamber. This was her way out, her point of reference for the return. She then closed her eyes, relaxing herself within but a few breaths. She invoked her power, the dominion of the night and that of the dreams, filling her horn with it, then enveloping her body, then seeping into her mind. It was akin to falling asleep, but more controlled, delicate and targeted alike. A way of passage as ephemeral and gentle as her own approach had to be when visiting the nightly fantasies of Equestria’s ponies.

One more breath, one more heartbeat of the waking world... and then the bliss. Intoxicating, alleviating, refreshing...

The Dreamworld welcomed her, as it had always done, with a vast expanse of nothing and everything. It greeted her loudly and silently alike, with unspeakable hues, and unnamed shapes, and changing constants, and unwavering motions. The whole realm swirled and changed, reformed itself constantly and constantly, like a storm above the sea, like a swarm of butterflies over a fragrant meadow. If one were to try and find logic in it, they could, but it would require incredible effort among the shifting fantasies, with the world around creating and re-creating itself over and over again, forever and then some more.

Luna’s eyes shifted around, battling the unavoidable bout of confusion, but also establishing boundaries and certitudes around her. The power she wielded meant that, among the morphing domain of phantasmagorias, chimeras and mirages, of that nothing at all and everything at once, an oasis of reason and the semblance of logic manifested around her, in which she had exclusive control over dreamlike matters. Perhaps not an ultimate one, no, as the Dreamworld tended to buck and scoot away from such a tight bridle, find ways to circumvent established laws and create its own in their place, but it was a hold firm enough to make out individual dreams and nightmares creating this realm, to coalesce them into places in which Luna could thread, meet ponies and help them.

And, most importantly, creating this refuge, weaving a pathway from it, it meant a way of not getting utterly lost. Luna could recall her first travels into the Dreamworld, which had carried with themselves certain risks and—

No.

She regathered her focus immediately, and just in time, for the memories she almost invoked to their full extent were already causing the fabric of the realm to shift and shudder more potently, trying to immediately weave dreams and visions connected to those old worries and trappings. Luna but steeled herself, waiting for the echo of stress to pass, and began her travel.

Her hooves trotted without a sound, without resistance, but walking was not necessary to progress through the Dreamworld. She was moving forward only because she wanted to move forward, going through the motions helped make the process more natural and less straining. And Luna’s abilities and the potency of her magic meant that she could also do the same thing to journey back, by finding the will, the realization that she was in a world of dreams, and with it push herself out of the fantasies when she wanted to, rather than wait for her body’s natural awakening.

However, her travel to find her beloved servant would have to take her off the beaten path of real unreality in a moment, beyond what she was used to and practiced for almost every night.

Luna looked down at her own projection. She was still appearing like herself, she had her regalia on, even a noble, traveler’s cloak was draped over her. Good, her form was a manifestation that she had mastered, the cloth was there to signify her objective. All of this served as another anchor back to the waking world. Against her peytral, however, a silver object dangled, floating haphazardly against non-existent gravity, and its presence was... strange, at first.

Luna had to stop for a moment and bring her focus towards the item, to grant it greater clarity. Just like in a true, free dream, the details of the trinket were still blurry and escaping logic. However, her effort’s to memorize the portrait before entering the Dreamworld soon shaped it into the correct form it required. Upon grasping and opening it, she saw her own image done in watercolor and ivory.

Everything looked alright, she managed to remember and summon the pin. Huzzah. That meant besting the initial challenge of the Dreamworld’s search.

Now came the much more complex matter. Travelling through the thicket of thoughts, the weald of wonders, the everlasting everglades of evanescent...

Luna shook her head. Summoning worries in her mind was doing exactly that, making the structure of the Dreamworld denser, rougher, harder to pierce. That was not the way to do it, she reminded herself. Instead, she looked down, taking the portrait, her amulet, in her hoof and holding it tight.

Moonwarden. She had to focus on him. A pony, a unicorn, grey coat, noble in lineage and bearing, a sharp mind, a cunning soul. She had to invoke all of the thoughts and meanings that her servant had for her.

And each word spawned... attention.

Dreams began to appear from the ether around Luna, coalescing around her due to her power. Little wisps, small clouds, orbs, manifestations, a multifarious and sundry collection of loose thoughts, old ambitions, underlying worries, past traumas, lost causes, happy hopes, a myriad of little beacons, calling from far and wide, each vying for attention. She was the candle for them, a bright presence, a source of bountiful awareness among the see of blissful unconsciousness, and they gravitated to her from unknown places, like on instinct.

Luna smiled gently at the sight, for it always brought her joy, even if meeting them was intertwined with her duties. Fantasies flocked to her out of need, but without any apprehension. And she was always ready to give them the right care, reinforce what was beneficial and dispel what brought pain and uncertainty.

That time, however, she had to push on through this manifold, spectral crowd, for one, specific pony required her direct attention. So she focused again, bringing forth the thoughts of Moonwarden, who he was, what he meant for her...

... what did he mean for her?

Reminding herself of her servant’s looks, his duties, his mannerisms, that was helping sieve through the dreams a little, yes, as those that were not connected by any similarities were moving away, fading from sight. But that wasn’t the core idea behind Luna’s search, was it? She knew what she had to do, it was just... peculiar for her still. To try and reach into her heart, to attempt and actually brave what pain might have been hiding inside of it, even after all of these years, and yet to produce from it something so unique, so singular like... love?

She blinked. There was something. Something inside of her, yes, but also, among the multitudes before her sight, something silver shone the moment she again grasped that one, specific feeling.

So Luna dug a little deeper, hoping to once again bring before herself the realization, understand where her emotions resided, and allow herself to experience them, alongside that one, precious one.

Where was Moonwarden? Where was her love?

Another shift in perspective. Some dreams moved to the side, others danced freely, trying to vie for her care. It was a good sign, for those were the fantasies of merry ponies, satisfied ponies, reliving recent memories, hoping for new ones to come, weaving in their dreams scenarios shared with those they cared about. Some of those spoke of adventures, some of mundane life, a few of them of loss and disappointment. And some were, in the nightly reveries, again experiencing the... nightly revelries.

Luna always had a tough time encountering those, feeling that she was out of her depth even in the fathoms of the Dreamworld, when she was faced with ethereal passions and sighs of ecstasy...

Behind all of those dreams, however, the silver shone again. But, for as briefly at it appeared, it looked entwined with darkness, suffused with pain. It only prompted Luna to look further, to shift quicker through the fantasies which continued to gather and gather. It was as if they were trying to smother her, enchanted by the richness of her conscious thoughts and realizations. She had to push them away, gently, not to damage anything, but forcefully enough to reach her quarry.

Her mind’s eye focused on nothing else but Moonwarden. Those smirks, those glances, those words, seemingly official, but hiding behind themselves worry and care.

Luna sifted through her memories, trying to find those that would help the most, that would lead her onward, though doing so was sending ripples through the Dreamworld, stronger and stronger. She realized that the boundaries of her refuge were beginning to wilt, to shrink, as she was inadvertently solidifying the space around her with her thoughts, and the realm resisted such influence. It wanted freedom, it wanted choices, it wanted possibilities and unbound illogical logic, while memories were like ropes trying to bind it, attempting to form in one, specific way, even if they were sometimes blurry at the edges.

Luna felt her heartbeat in her ears, and knew that this didn’t belong to the place she was in. This was her body, feeling the strain, sending her signals from the waking world. Enough of those and she would have to turn back, but that was not an option! She had to find him, she had to double her efforts, quadruple her pace. She knew she had seen it, Moonwarden’s drifting consciousness, it had to be around.

She felt herself pleading inside for a sign from it, once again, to rush through the dreams, to lunge in its direction. She gripped the pocket portrait even more firmly, to the point of ache in her hoof, whether in the Dreamworld or outside of it.

The night at her terrace, when she had risen the Moon for him. That time when he had knelt before her on the train. Even his insidious whispers in her ears, so that she could have battled her own, dark thoughts and emerge victorious. Something, anything!

There it was!

Among the flocking visions and the Dreamworld rumbling around, resisting the control, the orb of silver drifted, faintly, wistfully. It carried on itself dark markings, like scars, but it wasn’t unlike the light of Moonwarden’s magic, enhanced by his monocle, one that Luna could immediately identify.

So she reached out for it... missing it by an inch, as another dream shielded it from her sight!

She pushed it aside, hoping not to affect it by force, but the silver orb was already gone.

No, no!

She focused once more, this time on the one thing she had been so recently experiencing, the visage of Moonwarden, unconscious and fragile, in the hospital bed. With herself standing on the other side of the glass, her heart breaking despite her not yet realizing why.

She heard a crack, like that of a whip, as the Dreamworld repelled the firm and established memory, and Luna felt that strike against her form, actually. She clenched her teeth as pressure mounted in her mind, and she was certain she had let out a gasp, one that happened outside of this realm too. She didn’t have much time at all!

She started looking all over in panic, hoping for a glimmer, a glimpse, a glint... and in the corner of her eye she saw a little gleam. Without having a chance to check what it was, she reached and grasped it and—!

She felt herself grabbed in return by a current, as she was pushed forth and sent in the vision’s direction, the force causing her to instinctively close her eyes. She knew this to be a transition into an individual’s sleeping consciousness...

... but when she looked around a moment later, she wasn’t in a vision of any sort, but in a dark, empty space.

Her sight was blurred, or so it felt, like she had traversed from the bright light of noon right into the embrace of midnight. She frantically glanced about, trying to fathom where she ended in, but to no avail. The one silver lining, ironically, was that she did feel something underneath her hooves, something that would be like floor, as much as the Dreamworld interpreted it as such.

Luna took a moment to center herself. This place... This was different.

This wasn’t the mind of a pony sleeping peacefully, or even trying to do so, restlessly fighting against their mind, against the troubled manifestations of nightmares. This was... something else, this felt like uncharted territory even to her.

Luna looked about, or so she hoped that she did, for nothingness really didn’t bring with itself any points of reference that one could rely on. The lack of substance was actually quite concerning. Not to insult anypony, but Moonwarden’s mind always seemed so constantly occupied to Luna, in comparison to some other ponies whom she knew, and to see it so vacant was... frightening.

Had she landed in the wrong subconscious? That was a possibility, of course, she could only presume that she had reached for the right presence in the Dreamworld. If she wasn’t encountering anything, that could have meant that she didn’t have any strong links to it, so that would explain the dark, unoccupied space.

But Luna was somewhere, she was standing someplace. She tried to discern something, anything from the gloom, without much success at first. So her gaze finally ventured down, on herself... and she had to shake hear head.

She was still herself, yes, but her choice of manifested clothing and regalia had shifted, quite dramatically. She actually recognized the particular ensemble which she was now wearing, an evening dress that she always chose for truly special occasions. Its colors were of the night’s splendor and the bright fire of the stars, in patterns which she had chosen herself, after her favorite cosmic phenomena, and which appeared on her now, down to the finest of details. And yet this instance of the dress was additionally embellished as well, by both darkness and light, almost as if simultaneously glowing and devouring light by itself. It also fit Luna even more perfectly, and looked both much more demure and decidedly more enticing.

She didn’t know if she ever felt better in this gown, as she took a moment to appreciate it. She felt confident, she felt important, domineering, even. She knew that she would be turning all the heads back in Canterlot, and possibly beyond.

If anything, this served as a hint that she had managed to reach Moonwarden’s mind. If this was as he was seeing her...?

Still, something was amiss. The amulet on her, the pocket portrait, it flickered and shifted constantly against the majestic ensemble, as if it was recognizing that it shouldn’t be present. That it was all but impossible for it to be acknowledged, especially by Luna. She furrowed her brow, as her hoof couldn’t even grasp it firmly. It could make her return a little more complicated... She understood that Moonwarden’s subconscious was rejecting the notion of her knowing what it meant, even if she was aware of its existence.

But, if this was his mind, for where else could she be, why was it so... dark? He wasn’t a merry pony, no, but this was more than that, this was the sort of abyss that Luna could almost recognize from her own, worst years. It was overbearing, it was suffocating... Was it due to Moonwarden being kept asleep through strange means, or was this something much more profound and terrifying?

Whatever the reason for this was, Luna didn’t really have much of a choice at this point, but to try and find her way in the midst of this gloom. She wasn’t sure if she was even able to influence this space, not that she wanted to start with that. Considering her beloved’s servant current state, interference might have had unforeseen consequences.

And so she focused on moving, on progressing, and getting to anywhere that would have more to it than this debilitating murkiness.

One thing was giving her hope, even if a dim one – her hooves were striking something, she wasn’t simply suspended in oblivion. It sounded like marble, or some other, firm and rich floor. And... there was an echo. Slight, but present. It meant that something must have been around her. The sound had to somehow return her ears, if logic were to work here, even at a basic level. Yet, for the moment, there was just gloom and nothingness, and it didn’t take Luna long to start feeling... tired of it.

No, it wasn’t irritation, nor lack of patience, this was... this was something else. A weight was manifesting on Luna’s shoulders, a pressure that was gradually, tenderly gathering as she moved on, like an unseen burden, carried for years upon years. It made her steps a little more sluggish, her back a little more sore, her eyelids a little more heavy. Slowly, gently, insidiously it was strengthening its hold. It rested upon her like a conscience, dirtied time after time, like secrets piled on and on, like tough choices made again and again.

Was this... Was this something about Moonwarden’s psyche manifesting against her? A defense mechanism of some form or... or...

Luna shook her head, pushing away a certain numbness which was creeping around her consciousness, almost as if probing her. She shivered all over, trying to throw it off, but it only helped as much as shifting a heavy luggage from one side of one’s back to another. It offered a fraction of respite and then just—

She felt something against her hoof.

She almost screamed, trying to back away in fear that cut through the sluggish thoughts. But the sensation followed, holding on, grasping at her!

Luna managed to look down, momentarily awake, and saw something stuck to her hoofshoe, something shining against its black material.

A string? A strand? It was silver...

Magic. Moonwarden’s magic, she realized, some sort of its manifestation! She felt hope surge within her... but another feeling swiftly followed.

Exactly after the jolt of awareness began fading, and the strange apathy slithered inside of her consciousness once more, the shine of this argent power became... alluring. Yes, Luna had seen Moonwarden’s power and its effects, but she never felt its pull, and it was... singular.

The silver was enchanting, captivating, entrancing. It gleamed with peace and tranquility, but not one achieved in bliss and relaxation. No, this was a call for submission and assent. This magic was dominance, it was superiority and preeminence entwined, refined, projected in a force that would grant one the calmness of obedience... or would force subservience by raw power, and it didn’t care which of these it would be.

Luna blinked. She blinked again, and managed to avert her gaze from the string, though its very touch at the tip of her hoofshoe was enough to invoke docility in her.

She furrowed her brow, and focused. She swiftly pulled her foreleg back, and the connection, thankfully, severed itself.

She nearly dropped to her knees at that moment, for the protest made the weight on her mind return, ten times stronger. She hadn’t felt it when in touch with Moonwarden’s magic, and realized that this worked almost as if a form of magical extortion, with the choice being deferential submission or the crushing onus.

Is this how Moonwarden’s mind worked? Was this a figment of his... of himself?

Luna straightened herself up, regardless. She examined Moonwarden’s magic once more, exercising great caution, and realized that it looked suspiciously like... a spider web. This particular part was like one of those delicate, ephemeral threads that were meant to label the edge of the creature’s trap, to alert it of anypony’s presence, maybe to even stop them dead in their tracks there and then. Her brow furrowed even further as she realized that this filament had substance. It had weight and adhesiveness, and none of those she could immediately feel a connection to using her abilities.

Which must have meant that this wasn’t a nightly vision, this wasn’t a strand of a pony’s subconscious that she could affect, one appearing in a dream. This was more like... like an outskirt? Like a mind’s boundary?

She wasn’t sure how to express that, but it warranted extreme caution. If this was some form of defense, or a projection of Moonwarden’s being, then it must have meant that there was more to follow. Not to mention that, even after Luna shook it off, the tether didn’t disappear or disperse, but moved back, slid against the ground like a serpent, and rested a few inches before her, back in the place it must have been before she disturbed it.

She almost wanted to do it again...

Luna gritted her teeth. The pressure on her was building, and the easiest solution to avoid it was also the most treacherous, so she had to press on, and quickly. Thankfully, after she took in her surroundings again, she finally witnessed something in the gloom surrounding her.

A doorway? With a portal above it? It looked like an entrance, though she hadn’t spotted it before. The passage was open, the doors of dark mahogany were unlocked, simultaneously inviting and threatening. The inside seemed as abyssal and empty as everything else about, though Luna could feel something coming from the inside, like a draft, a gust of wind, carrying a scent with itself.

She let it enter her nostrils, as much as she could control that... and something about it felt strangely familiar. Yet this wasn’t a whiff of rich furniture, of old books or firm perfume, no. The hints were there, as if the fragrance was coming from an old, noble manor, but instead of varnish there was... vanity, in place of lavender came leverage, and cedar had been supplanted by control.

Unfortunately, it was an intoxicating scent still. Heady and deep, though Luna managed to withstand it, now that she knew not to trust these sensations, however... however...

She had to shake her head again, to finish the thought.

... however enticing they were. The magic, the aroma... Was Moonwarden’s mind really such a trap? Why was it so? Was it his experience in the matters of mentalism, or was this something else? Were those...? Were those the snares and devices of his character and his true self...?

Now Luna had another reason to take further steps forward, though even that could have been but another stratagem, her curiosity and drive being used against her. But she still could feel that weight on her, that pressure mounting and mounting, and staying where she was brought with itself other risks...

She hoped to see something past the threshold before her, but first she had to be cautious not to step on anything. That notably meant more and more of those captivating, silver strands set around the entrance. The few steps leading to the doorway were covered in argent thread, and even the frame was webbed and covered, as if the whole place had fallen victim to a gigantic and prolific spider. It made a certain sense to Luna, though she had no idea just how deep this comparison went when it came to Moonwarden’s mental defenses.

And to him, as a pony.

Was that why he enjoyed the chamber underneath the Royal Office so much? Why he had made it look like a web-weaver’s parlor?

This place was greater in size than that hidden room, however. This was a whole manor, but... it was also a library.

Rich, dark bookcases filled the space, organized in neat, geometrical shapes, reaching far up and disappearing from sight in the shades above. Luna couldn’t make out even one of the titles of the tomes in those, as they were both ancient-looking as well as covered with cobwebs of silver. Yet the sight of them... it... It magnified her interest, it grasped her attention. She felt herself swerving towards one of the collections... and stopped herself just in time.

Loose, argent strands were covering the mahogany floor well, but especially close to the bookshelves, and it must have been one more trap, one more manifestation of caution and cunning.

Luna had to gather all of her strength and concentration to push on, against the numbness of burdens, the allure of mental magic, the anesthetic scent of grandeur, and the pull of secrets, stacked high and high all around her.

She felt small and endangered, and it wasn’t a feeling which she was welcoming at all, but... was this how other ponies felt around Moonwarden?

That thought occupied Luna enough for her to proceed, though doing so with great attention made her tiptoe about like a burglar trying to avoid security on a quest to find valuables to pilfer. She moved with patience and care, especially avoiding the strands below, but also keeping her wings close, and her head low, not to inadvertently disturb anything with her horn. She couldn’t quite control the movements of her mane, but it was an ‘insubstantial’ thing even in the waking world. And her gown, however flowing, seemed to shift above and around all the mental snags, being a part of this world.

... would it turn against her as well at some point?

Aside from her extreme caution, her mind was also abuzz with questions and doubts. It felt absolutely right and proper to her, to exercise such prudence in this place. Despite the fact that she had managed to, without a doubt, reach the unconscious mind of Moonwarden, the pony who harbored such deep-seated emotions for her, she wasn’t feeling safe, secure or happy. The webs, the ominous atmosphere, that omnipresent feeling of danger, the very substance of this demesne was so terrifying in its nature, that Luna had every ounce of belief that she was doing the right thing, trying to gain access and move through with as little interference as possible.

It felt like she had decided to enter a lair of a most dangerous predator, who was only waiting for her to make her presence known in earnest, to misstep even once, to leave herself open for an attack...

That... That description felt almost too accurate. And it caused her... pain.

Luna had to stop after a while, to catch a mental breather, and to decide how to proceed. The bookshelves ahead were creating some form of a crossroad in the vast chamber she was in. And though she ceased moving... but the sound of hoofsteps continued.

She almost panicked, worrying that she might have by mistake thought of continuing, even against that mounting weight on her mind. But she wasn’t the source of this particular sound, after all.

Somepony was approaching. They were coming from Luna’s right, and would soon make themselves visible. The cadenced steps that were echoing around felt heavy, felt almost forced, but continued on without respite.

Luna made sure to hide herself as close to the bookshelf as possible without touching anything, trying to find shade, though she couldn’t see a source of light to cast it in the first place. A few, contained breaths, and one held in, later, she saw something stirring and emerging from the darkness.

First came a silver strand, shining and enchanting, then another, and a few more still. They came to view, hanging down from the darkness above. They were like... like thin ropes, shifting, straining and loosening, in absolute control and coordination. They so reminded Luna of a puppeteer’s strings, with which one would make a loose doll prance, bow, twist, and behave exactly how one desired... and the comparison not only stood.

It walked.

With heavy steps, with cobwebs reaching into its head, protruding from the empty eyes, filling the deaf ears, keeping the mouth shut and secure, the silhouette of a pony emerged from around the corner. Traversing these strange, frightening halls, was an elderly stallion of noble bearing, and features almost frighteningly similar to those of Moonwarden, maybe a generation apart. Luna took in the grey coat, the formerly black mane, the sharp lines of the muzzle, whetted by wrinkles, and though she didn’t know the pony personally, she could easily deduce that this was none other than Austere Aurelius Warden, her servant’s own father... or some form of a representation of him.

A morbid and terrifying representation, as this puppet, this lifeless doll, a wight of a pony, walked in his destined direction without recognition. Without one thought of his own, even that much Luna was convinced of. Was this how Moonwarden saw his father? She knew that there was an animosity there, but... was this a manifestation of grief? Or, rather, of the desire for revenge? And if revenge then... why one so appalling?

Her servant was capable of many, and terrible things, but... would he actually...?

Not even a sigh of protest came from the elder as he continued on his scary way, heading someplace to achieve some goal. Something ordained by Moonwarden’s will, that much was certain.

Luna let out the breath she had been holding, even if keeping it in wasn’t necessary in this, ethereal domain. She had to proceed, but... she heard more echoes from the direction she had to take. More hoofsteps were happening, rhythmic, cadenced, unflinching. And, in the darkness ahead, she could see more strings manifesting between the bookshelves.

Fear was taking hope’s place in her heart. Fear, and... and abhorrence.

Her journey turned from bad to worse in but a few moments later. Whilst avoiding the webbed traps on the ground was one thing, trying to ignore the listless and nigh-lifeless forms of ponies walking by was much, much more taxing. Some of those were strangers she had no idea about, but some she could recall one way or another.

A pegasus mare, the colors of coffee and cream, who was supposed to be one of Canterlot’s many and talented, younger generation architects, followed unseen orders. Another mare, a cornflower unicorn with striped mane, whom Luna had seen as one of Cadance’s bridesmaids at the wedding, shifted around like a ghost. Another earth pony, a stallion, middle-aged and bluish of coat, marched on, with dedication enforced by silver will, and Luna could have sworn that she also knew him, or had heard about him quite recently. A whole selection of unicorns serving in the Royal Guard, including the new Captain, marched in tandem. There was mister Fancy Pants and his beautiful wife, though they couldn’t even glance in each other’s direction, perfect strangers pushed on by argent tenacity. There were ponies Luna recalled from the Palace’s staff, from the streets of Canterlot, from beyond, the list went on and on!

She was certain that, in but a moment, she would spot even those that she deemed closest to her, the ponies of the Second Chance.

... just then, a familiar group of ponies turned the far corner. Puppets, marionettes. Victims.

Luna had enough. Whatever this was, a desire, an elaborate intrigue, a side of Moonwarden that lay hidden from her, she didn’t care.

She had to get to him, to the bottom of all of this. She had to understand what was this sight she was witnessing, what dark, twisted corner of his mind she had uncovered!

So she stopped caring... and sprinted.

Against the webs, against the bookcases, against the gloom and the shadow, she ran as fast as her legs, her thoughts, and her ensemble were allowing her to. With her hooves striking the floor with a vengeance, and her teeth gritting against each other in pain, as she galloped forth, ready to pierce through this entire place like a wayward comet, caring not for its collision course!

And, to her surprise... that worked.

For a moment, the briefest of moments, everything turned dark, right as she haphazardly ran right into a tangle of silvery strands. The dull feeling of surrender and submission lasted for but a frantic heartbeat, before the labyrinthine halls around her disappeared, and she found herself in a dimly lit room.

It was... cozy, and the gave Luna a mighty pause.

After all of the darkness and tenebrosity, to find herself in a lit, elegant chamber was such a great change that she found herself utterly stupefied. Yes, the light was cold and dim, and yes, the colors were contained and of the deeper hues, but, for all intents and purposes, it was nothing short of a refuge against the horrors she had just witnessed.

Luna was standing, still in her beautiful gown, at the edge of an elegant, black carpet, its soft hairs pleasantly tickling just above her hoofshoes. A fireplace, though lacking the actual blaze, was emitting wonderful, elegant fragrance in wispy strands, which were filling the chamber with warmth, as well as fleeting images which she had trouble discerning. A rich, plush armchair was placed diagonally from the fireside, in perfect distance from it and... and on it rested a pony.

A stallion of grey coat, of black mane with strands of silver, which showed his age. He was dressed in ornate, dark clothes, as elegant and majestic as they looked comfortable. The vest was like a soft embrace, and the edges of his cloak were merging with the black carpet seamlessly, connecting the pony to this chamber, intrinsically and naturally.

His eyes were closed, a monocle hiding one of them entirely, shining as bright as Luna’s full Moon, and casting a deep shadow against the seat’s back. Strings emerged from the eyepiece, leading up, disappearing in the room’s shadows near the ceiling, as if this was the heart, the very core of the great cobweb of influence and control.

Luna took a step towards the figure, and it did not react to her at first. So she continued, her heart and head pounding in relief, anxiety, apprehension and love, all at the same time, almost giving her a headache.

It was only when her muffled steps brought her at the level of his chair, that she could actually see the pony stirring.

No, see them stirring.

Moonwarden opened his one, visible eye, and its silver brought to Luna an incredible feeling of warmth, as she had missed the color and the depth of his gaze.

Simultaneously, the unicorn’s own shadow stared at her too, with a focused, fathomless, dark gaze.

And yet in both of those stares she saw... confusion.

“... who are you?” two voices asked at the same time, identical in tone, seamless in timbre.

She replied in the only way she could think of, moved by the love in her heart, but also the terror of all she had just witnessed.

“Who are you?”

Comments

[Piemaster128]

I’m wondering if there might be some magic up in that gallery that only Twilight is affected by, similar to the meditation rooms in the other mountain. And here is hoping moonwarden can tell Luna about his attacker.

Excellent as always

[Gulheru]

11646957

Thank you, I'm trying, as always. My holidays gave me a boost.

[redmar]

At least Twilight managed to hold herself back in the gallery. It's good that Midnght reprimanded Twilight for her behaviour in this chapter and that Twilight decided to acknowledge his points. Twilight should aks Rowan Berry why she has a problem with Ebony Crescent as well since that might help her understand things a bit better.
I'm getting the impression that Ivory Crescent knew exactly why her brother was late and thought that it would be fun to embarass him by revealing it to Twilight. It seems that Ebony Crescent indulges himself a bit much even by the more liberal standards of Mountain of Crescent.
Luna had a great difficulty in reaching Moonwarden's mind and now she will have to reach him which doesn't seem to be easy either. That Moonwarden and the shadow are both moving as persons might not be good.
Also it seems that Midnight Eye is quite a bit more ruthless than we knew. The only reason he could have to change his mind is because he sees a political benefit in Midnight Wind's relationship with Twilight. Now we have to wonder what exactly that is and why Azure Mist doesn't like Midnight Eye having that benefit.

[Gulheru]

11647075

I was hoping to pack this chapter with interesting things. It seems I was successful to some degree.

[RangerOfRhudaur]

Translations of the Noctraliyar:

“... zawrogore ipe hab coene ze iae. Kwid bid tu gnyewnu?”

"... invite her to a meal with me. Why are you angry?"

“Asklute, Fyildeza Kwadre, Maednoc Wentr bid—”

"Listen, Ivory Crescent, Midnight Wind is-"

“Kwod tueu bratr bid kad. I ia griy ip wela—”

"Because your brother is a rascal. And I worry he wants-"

“Iaeu bratr bid kad? Iae nye znatee! Kwomdo mozn to bid?”

"My brother is a rascal? I didn't know! How can it be?"

“Nye ride, tue—”

"Don't laugh, you-"

“Iae mozne rid kwand iae wele, Maednoc Wentr. Iae znate ip bid kad. Ipe iree do karcer kwod to, uai me—”

"I can laugh whenever I want, Midnight Wind. I know him to be a rascal. She went to jail because of it, we-" (Thanks, Gulheru!)

[Gulheru]

11647113

Hah, you actually caught me on a mistake. It should be "Ipe iree do karcer..."

Other than my, silly blunder – flawless work, my friend. Fantastic.

[RangerOfRhudaur]

Despite trying to be calm and collected, a spark ignited in the stallion’s eyes. “I had enough ‘backbone’ to agree and partake in your interview, though it was an idea previously unheard of. I had enough backbone to choose to befriend you despite the history of our nations. To hopelessly fall in love with you against reason. To overstep the boundaries of my culture in many ways, even to the point of sharing myself with you. To oppose my haspadr who, despite his change of heart later, initially threatened to have my own parents thrown to the lower mines for my affection. To consider turning both to the Immaculate Moon... and the Judging Sun in my supplications. I had enough backbone to brave all of the challenges thrown our way, including being impaled on thorns and possibly ruining my flying abilities entirely,” he enumerated almost in one breath, his tone turning strong, but not combative. If anything, his eyes were beginning to turn glassy. “And I don’t regret any of it. What I didn’t have the guts to do is risk all of my actions being for nothing by revealing that I was a cheating bastard, something that I have regretted ever since it happened, something that I’ve almost taken my own life for – do I deserve such hatred from you for that ?”

Finally, finally Midnight gets his rear in gear and starts apologizing to Twilight. He does seem to be a bit more combative about it than I'd anticipated (of course, what I anticipated was him going on his own Walk to Canossa, which might say something about my expectations), but the fact that he's making the effort at all is admirable, as is his explanation of why he tried to hide his actions from Twilight. However, I will say his reaction to her apology for her weariness' comment on accepting Ebony Crescent's affections made me want to facepalm. Midnight, if you want Twilight to forgive you for being an idiot, you need to meet her halfway; she was clearly sorry for what her weariness said, and you knew it was her weariness, not her, speaking, and yet you still held it against her because you feel you didn't deserve it? What does this legalism do except bar you from the forgiveness you seek? If an eye must pay for an eye and an undeserved slight be held against the slighter, what hope do you have? You are like the debtor pleading for mercy for their great debt, then refusing mercy to a fellow servant on account of a much smaller debt (Matthew 18:21-35). Open up your eyes, Midnight, and see the difference between the beam in your eye and the splinter in Twilight's, and how forgiveness is necessary to remove both.

Honestly, looking back on it, a lot of Midnight's apologies seem self-righteous, saying "I messed up, but..." as opposed to taking straight-up responsibility for his faults. Understandable, but again counterproductive; trying to justify oneself like this simply adds more cogs to the machine of law, more places where it can grind to a halt. Take the examples Midnight offered of when he had a backbone; what impact do they have on what punishment he deserves? Do they add or detract from his guilt? Does their presence mean that he committed additional mistakes (like a medic taking up arms when not explicitly needed), and if so what punishment does that entail? All his justifications do is bog down the work of forgiveness, or, as in this case, prevent it from happening at all; he's trying to be the taxpayer, but he ends up making himself the Pharisee, focusing on everything except what really matters (Luke 18:9-14). His pride, his refusal to say "I made a mistake" without qualifiers or justifications, is holding him back. Again, this is understandable; nobody likes to admit they were wrong, especially in matters like this. But he has to admit it, he has to lay his faults bare, or else forgiveness can't wash them away. Yes, revealing something like this makes him vulnerable, just like extending your arm for a vaccine does; accessibility and vulnerability are two sides of the same coin, and that coin is the price of forgiveness.

[Gulheru]

11647174

Very well put. He's still not in the right place, even if her truly wants to be. There are still matters he has to deal with, and it's only up to him if he shall have the necessary courage.

[Chaos_Silver]

Interesting. Very interesting. That's not how I've expected this chapter to be...
Luna's venture to Moonwarden's dream (brain?) reminded me of chapter, when he told Luna of troubles connected with trying to probe Discord's mind, right after he returned from Twilight. Seems that his own mind could drive anypony mad. Still, what would be his reaction suggestion to travel in debts of Pinkie Pie conscience? Pony who could understand Lord of Chaos and use some of his abilities along with her unice ones...

[Gulheru]

11647176

Hah, I think that would be an even more terrifying prospect. Right now, however, Luna did venture into quite the dangerous territory. Care to bet how will it go from here?

[Chaos_Silver]

11647178
Considering the fact, that he seems not to recognized his goddess and beloved mare... Moonwarden's head should be a really messy place. Or he is confused because he thought that no one would ever manage to get through his mental traps, Luna herself included. Only future and next chapters will tell us.

[Gulheru]

11647182

I'll take the doubts and worries, and use them well.

[Bregon]

Beautiful chapter, I have to admit that Moonwarden's mind gave me some chills and I can't wait to know what Luna will tell him. Seeing all the ponies here marching around like puppets looked like a horror story, ok let me see if I can guess who they are:

An earth pony mare, the colors of coffee and cream, who was supposed to be one of Canterlot’s many and talented, younger generation architects, followed unseen orders.

Ok this should be the architect who met Moonwarden in chapter XLI

Another mare, a cornflower unicorn with striped mane, whom Luna had seen as one of Cadance’s bridesmaids at the wedding, shifted around like a ghost.

This should be Minuette who he met in Peaceful Nights

Another earth pony, a stallion, middle-aged and bluish of coat, marched on, with dedication enforced by silver will, and Luna could have sworn that she also knew him, or had heard about him quite recently.

And this should be Stamp Duty, the mayor of Hollow Shades, did I get them all right?

That is, until Twilight turned her head that way, spotting two guards marching calmly and stoically alongside the courtyard, not paying attention to the gathered. Two ponies that she could actually recall.

A stallion and a mare, the former brandishing a carmine braid, long and rich, and a little haphazardly done, while the latter’s strikingly sapphire eyes were locked forward, as if forced to. Twilight remember them being assigned as the Count Brother’s personal guardians at the Sanctuary, and their presence was not really surprising, though the Countess’ reaction about them being an apparent reason for Ebony Crescent’s ‘misbehavior’ and sleeping in was str—

... oh.

Oh.

Oh!

Oh my goodness what a poor figure! I have been looking forward to meeting Ebony Crescent's two personal guards since Chapter LXV, especially that sapphire-eyed mare who seems to be very kind to Ebony, but never did I expect such an entrance. Poor things, who knows what awkward conversation awaits them.....

[Gulheru]

11647200

Great job, accurate all around.

Well, awkward to some, I presume.

[Bregon]

11647204
Awkward to some? Well, first of all I think none of them must have taken a shower....

[The Great Derpsby]

Twilight wanted to say something, she really did, but Midnight Wind’s stare was potent enough to keep her silent, like the gaze of a furious, undead creature of fables, ready to crush her will for causing him dishonor and displeasure.

When the warrior continued, that cold tone was suffused with disillusionment. “You wanted to be callous, because you believe me deserving of that? Fine. I suppose I agree, my idiocy should be reprimanded, and I would expect nothing else. But like this? And from you, Twilight Sparkle?”

Yes, Midnight Wind. The answer is yes, you deserved that. And the fact that you react by throwing a hissy fit and walk away only makes me think that even more. In fact, this relationship might not be salvageable at all, because Midnight demands things of Twilight he would never, ever apply to himself. Now he's angry with her for not being the serene vision of perfection and forgiveness, while he dismissed HER immediate apologies like she's worse scum than he is.

By the way... the thought that THIS might be what turns things around, Twilight feeling horribly guilty for doing a fraction of what Midnight Wind has done to her and his former wife both and so going out of her way to mollify him, is kind of icky. It feels manipulative, worse than what Ebony Crescent has pulled even.

[RangerOfRhudaur]

11647342
To me, it doesn't matter whether Midnight deserved it or not; what matters is that holding it against Twilight does nothing except mollify his pride. There is no place for pride in the search for forgiveness, because the search for forgiveness requires submission by its very nature. Midnight this chapter seemed to be saying "Look at all I've done for you, now forgive me" when he should be saying "I'm sorry for my mistakes, Twilight. Please, can you forgive me?" Him doing so is understandable, nobody likes to admit they were wrong without qualifiers, but that doesn't mean he isn't wrong to do so.

As for this serving as a turning point, I think it's more mild than you might fear, Twilight realizing that nursing her hatred for her companions is harmful as opposed to simply forgiving them. Like she said,

‘Fumble’... That didn’t even begin to cover it. Yes, last night brought her additional worries and deliberations, with the rack and the Gallery, and her hurt made her unreasonable, but that... That dreadful manifestation of it had been nothing short of contemptible. She had a right to feel wounded by Midnight’s choices, but that did not give her the right to be wicked, to be wanting to hurt him back...

[DopplerEffect]

I really like the cliffhanger ending of the previous chapter being followed up by, not the event, but the resolution. The fretting about whether or not Twilight did kiss him keeps going until she drops that "almost". well done.

[MathBrony173]

Well, steps were definitely taken between Twilight and Midnight, though few in the right direction. The main positive is that they actually had a conversation since things were revealed on the way to the Mountain of Crescent, though it was not under optimal conditions nor attitudes. On Twilight's side, there's still some hurt (understandably so), a bit of vengefulness, and some sleep-deprivation sprinkled in for good measure. On Midnight's side, some regret (there should be), pride (not so much this), and indignation, though there's only one moment where I could deem that to be rightly held. It would be foolhardy to expect the two of them to reconcile in the current state of things. That will only come with more time, healing, and when both are ready to have an actual conversation rather than engaging in verbal sparring. Also, Twilight didn't do herself any favors in now having something to apologize for herself.

I continued to get the feeling that Ivory Crescent was hoping that something had transpired between Ebony Crescent and Twilight when they were alone, and not for the sole purpose of engaging in her beloved pastime of teasing her brother. I started to wonder if that could have been part of some plan to entangle Twilight in a scandal, weakening her position and mission in Noctraliya. While technically she's already involved in one by being in a relationship with Midnight, even if said relationship is currently a bit rocky, Midnight wouldn't want to compromise her in a way that could be harmful and would keep their affair secret for her benefit. I can't say I hold the same faith for the Crescents if Twilight didn't find it within herself to step away from that moment she found herself in with the Count Brother. The fact that her (presumably Twilight, I can't imagine who else she could be talking about) going to jail in relation to Ebony's reputation as a rascal was even stated by Ivory Crescent further cemented this idea in my mind.

For some reason, I was not that surprised at what the inside of Moonwarden's mind was like, for the most part. It usually isn't a good thing when someone has dealings with a shadow entity in Equestria so I'm definitely curious what the story is there. I feel I can safely say that this must be who he converses with when he 'talks to himself'. For a brief moment, I was concerned that Moonwarden didn't seem to recognize Luna at all. However, given all the mental defenses he has in place, he likely never expected to see anyone he did not explicitly know to reside within his mind to appear before him, so it'd be wise not to take things at face value. I actually wonder if what Luna accomplished would even be possible if Moonwarden was not in a weakened state and forced state of sleep.

[Gulheru]

11647342

It's certainly not a healthy situation still, not to both of them. This was another clash, another issue that surfaced and unless they do something about it, well... There's no future to be seen yet.

11647452

Thanks, I was hoping to drag it a little bit.

11647482

I was hoping to throw some wrenches around and place more characters in difficult positions. It makes the tale spicy.

Actually though, I think I need to point out one thing that came up as a result of my own blunder, as I've already pointed out before 11647113. Ranger's translations are remarkable, and it was my mistake that changed the meaning of one of the Noctraliyar sentences, one that I see you are also using in your deliberations.

It's not: "She could go to jail because of it." It's "She went to jail because of it." I believe a clarification is very much necessary here.

[MathBrony173]

11647607
Ohh I see. So it's definitely not Twilight she was referring to then. Now I'm curious who it was.

[Bregon]

11647607
"She went to jail because of it."
Is Ivory referring to that sapphire-eyed mare?

[Gulheru]

11647754

No, that much I can say.

[Bregon]

11647674

11647113
Hey, guys what if Ivory Crescent meant Rowan Berry? I mean, do you remember that during the mission in Maretonia she was apprehended for vagrancy because she went looking for Ebony? (chapter LXV)
So, maybe Ivory was referring to that? (Strangely in front of Midnight Wind)

[MathBrony173]

11648056
I forgot about that. That does make a lot of sense, actually. I do wonder if Rowan Berry being arrested would've been fairly common gossip in Noctraliya or only those that knew where she was and why she was there would know. If the latter, it is rather tempting to add this on the (+) side of the checklist for Midnight Wind being the 5th operative. He could have been out of the loop though and surprised to hear this. We'll never know how he would have reacted since Twilight cut their conversation short.

[Bregon]

11648068
Yep, and that's why I also think that probably Midnight Wind was in Maretonia too, otherwise Ivory wouldn't have spoken about it so freely

[RangerOfRhudaur]

Simultaneously, the unicorn’s own shadow stared at her too, with a focused, fathomless, dark gaze.

The cloth was still resting upon a pony’s body. One of dark coat and webbed wings, its form overgrown, desiccated, and putrid, like a morbid puppet on literal sticks. A gruesome totem, locked in its final, terrifying moment of life for all eternity.

She knew his name. She almost called it out.

And yet he still reacted, his decomposed head shifting. Looking at her, eyeless. And speaking to her, though the lips had a given way long time ago, revealing jutting teeth.

“... hello.”

Chapter LXIX, A Splash of Cold Water

The Lesyi are one of the most confounding elements in this story. There's the obvious "What's their motivation?", but for me a more important question is, "Why are in the story at all?" Are they simply there to flesh out the world, make it clear that Noctraliya has problems outside the scope of Twilight's mission? Were they a one-and-done horror element, there to allow the writer to stretch their horror muscles before getting back to the political intrigue? Or are they bigger players, major characters simply prowling around in the shadows until it's time for their close up?

Another confusing part of the story is the religious pillar. If Twilight only had to navigate around the faith of the Immaculate Moon, such as she did with Midnight's prayer in Chapter LXXIV, it would only serve as a religious facet to the political pillar, enhancing a preexisting story thread instead of creating an entirely new one. But, between events like Constellation's sharing the gift of hope with her, drinking the quicksilver, and her experience in the vision chamber, it seems like the Immaculate Moon is trying to reach out to Twilight, turning the faith surrounding her from a piece of set dressing into something highly relevant.

But to what end? The political and romantic pillars have their clear capstones (Azure Mist and those like her falling from power and Midnight and Twilight making up and wedding respectively), but where does Twilight's journey with the Immaculate Moon lead? Why has the divine taken such an interest in Friendship's ambassador? It could simply be because she's right, Noctraliya needs Friendship instead of... whatever it currently has, but that feels a bit unsatisfying. All this buildup, all these events, all this evidence for the existence of the divine, just for a seal of approval? In our world I could see such a thing happening, such as with the prophets Jeremiah and Amos, but this is set in Equestria, a world the Gifts of the Goddess can reshape. It feels too mundane for a deity in a fantasy setting such as this to simply descend and intervene in politics, especially given the grand prophecy surrounding Twilight's visit.

So what if Twilight's religious journey is less Jeremiah, more Revelations?

Noctraliya is standing on the brink of two wars, one within, one without. Their hunger for food and vengeance drives them towards war with Equestria while Twilight's presence and the factions it generates (the pro- and anti-Twilight haspadri) drive them towards a civil war. They are dividing themselves, misusing their strength and threatening to squander it on senseless fighting... all of which adds up to a red carpet rolled out for the Lesyi, who begin marching out of the Feral Weald. The political struggle, what so much of the story has focused on, will have merely served to distract Noctraliya from the Immaculate Moon's desperate warnings to listen to Twilight, the one pony trying to get them to focus on the real enemy instead of Equestria and who actually stands a chance in straight fighting against that enemy. By scheming instead of forming friendships, all Noctraliya did was leave itself vulnerable to the true enemy, serving as a reinforcement for one of the story's most important themes.

But why would the Lesyi attack? The same reason they hissed at Princess Luna's name in Chapter LXIX: hatred of good and all its children. They want nothing more than to burn Noctraliya to the ground, to destroy all those who have a chance at the joy they lack. Their dangerous allure (like the allure I assume Twilight felt at the end of her segment this chapter), the way they delight in frightening the noctrali, their apparently incorporeal nature... if I don't miss my guess, the Leysi aren't fey, they're demons. And perhaps, given the way they seem disposed towards manipulation ("beguiling sights before our eyes," the gestalt bodies they make for themselves, the puppeteering of poor Brilliant Crescent in Twilight's dream), they share a link with another famously manipulative force from Equestria's past: Nightmare Moon. And if that's the case...

Simultaneously, the unicorn’s own shadow stared at her too, with a focused, fathomless, dark gaze.

"Be sober and vigilant. Your opponent the devil is prowling around like a roaring lion looking for [someone] to devour." (1 Peter 5:8).

[Revel Montaro]

I'm surprised the countess would draw attention to the guards in question. Was it intrigue or did she genuinely not know about her brother's after hours activities? And if she did, would it not be counterproductive to connect those dots for Twilight? Curious.

Also I'm near certain someone had been on Twilight’s balcony listening.

And we should have known Moonwarden's mind would be twisted and strange. One cannot dive into the minds of others without consequences to your own psyche.

[Gulheru]

11648404

Aaaah! A very interesting theory! Wonderful insights, you're giving me much joy with them!

11648552

There many reasons for many things. But, not to be too cryptic, you've made fair points, indeed.

[Telos4]

between this chapter and the last i get the feeling that ebony and his agenda of making some sort of bardic tale of romance and seduction(i am mostly convinced he's of the mindset of eh i'll die soon enough from mystery disease might as well enjoy myself and make my last months/years memorable) i get the distinct feeling he might just be getting used as a distraction for someone else (assuming the mid-day watcher was someone other than ebony) this whole "vacation" as they claim it has reeked from the start and i expect someone to try and blackmail twilight before this trip is over

[Gulheru]

11653406

It's a theory. And I don't think it's an unsubstantiated one.

[RangerOfRhudaur]

11653406
Sister, oh sister, my days here are done;
my sickness has stolen my life.
But what does it matter for all ponies die,
and I won the Princess as my wife!

[Backlash91]

This chapter was like an ocean of depth. I loved every word of it

[Gulheru]

11657658

Be cautious, however. The next one is coming soon, and, as befits an ocean, there can be anglerfish with silvery lures around.

[Backlash91]

11657689
Well I want luna to snuggle him anyways!!!!

[bkam]

Twilight had to confess, the way that yesternight had gone, since its very beginning, had surprised everybody, and the surprise hadn’t been a particularly pleasant one.

Considering the fact that it ended with her almost becoming a hypocrite, yeah, I guess you could say that.

She didn’t know why at first, but she couldn’t shake off the sudden feeling that she was being... watched. Quickly she turned around, as if the unexpected onlooker would just stand there, in the room, but nopony else was present, of course. And yet that sensation remained, lingered for a moment longer, and Twilight wasn’t enjoying the fact at all.

🚩

Suddenly feeling very immodest, walking around the spire without anything on, she quickly cast a spell to levitate herself a dressing gown... and she heard a click someplace, someplace that definitely wasn’t any of her luggage. Turning her head she again spotted nothing, but she also couldn’t quite tell what that sound had been. Or where had it come from, though her instinct made her shift her gaze to one of the curtains, for some reason.

Was it her, or was it gently swaying?

i.imgflip.com/nty9b.jpg

“Half of my body I’ve sacrificed for you. I’ve torn my wing in your name. I am ready to have my hoof crushed, if that’s what it takes. You mean to tell me that none of this meant anything then, and that it means nothing now?”

Yes! Hell yeah Midnight!

Because that couldn’t have been true. Because there couldn’t be a connection between that and the pony she was seeing before her.

But what if there was?

Midnight Wind, at least, didn’t look like he was blaming her for that. “Twilight, listen, I—” She felt her eyes narrowing and, like that, the stallion changed his tone further. “Twilight Sparkle, I’m here because I am worried. About your state today, and about things in general. I don’t know what moved you to venture into the Gallery without us, but you’ve left it looking quite distraught by something.”

I don't even care if Midnight might be a spy, because this tells me that surely he must love, either that or he is just an amazing actor, but I truly do hope this is a sign of his love for Twilight.

Despite trying to be calm and collected, a spark ignited in the stallion’s eyes. “I had enough ‘backbone’ to agree and partake in your interview, though it was an idea previously unheard of. I had enough backbone to choose to befriend you despite the history of our nations. To hopelessly fall in love with you against reason. To overstep the boundaries of my culture in many ways, even to the point of sharing myself with you. To oppose my haspadr who, despite his change of heart later, initially threatened to have my own parents thrown to the lower mines for my affection. To consider turning both to the Immaculate Moon... and the Judging Sun in my supplications. I had enough backbone to brave all of the challenges thrown our way, including being impaled on thorns and possibly ruining my flying abilities entirely,” he enumerated almost in one breath, his tone turning strong, but not combative. If anything, his eyes were beginning to turn glassy. “And I don’t regret any of it. What I didn’t have the guts to do is risk all of my actions being for nothing by revealing that I was a cheating bastard, something that I have regretted ever since it happened, something that I’ve almost taken my own life for – do I deserve such hatred from you for that?”

Again, like I just said. Props Gulheru for your story telling.

“You didn’t what?” he asked, in that cold tone that could freeze one’s blood in their veins, the one that was far, far worse than pure and fiery outrage. She tried to speak again, but he just squinted his eyes a little, and that was enough to stop her dead in her apologetic tracks. “You might view me as but a dumb, proud, headstrong warrior, a coward or a scoundrel, take your pick, but I’m not a fool. I know that tone, and I know that regret following it.”

How the tables have turned.

It was a decent question, actually. Aside from looking just a little disheveled, despite a valiant and quite sufficient effort to fight it, Ebony Crescent had darker rings under his eyes, as if he spent most of the day without sleep, and... some of the coat on his neck was sticking in weird directions? Also, a very potent fragrance was tickling Twilight’s nose, like from an overabundance of strong perfumes.

Hmm, I think I know who might have been watching Twilight.

Twilight realized that her muzzle felt very warm. Like, very warm, out of a sudden, which had happened alongside the realization what might have been the secret behind the Count Brother’s late arrival, and that of his state.

Maybe not?

“Who are you ?”

A valid question, I would say.

[Gulheru]

11732350

I hope I manage with the next chapter before your current journey's done.