Her Soldiers, We

by Tigerhorse

Night So Bright

Nebula had been busy with vines in Sky's absence, so that by the time he returned, he found Fleetfoot and Spitfire neatly trussed up. They were both awake, and they both glared at him as he slid Soarin from his back.

She nodded to him without surprise. “Good work,” she said around a mouthful of vines. She stepped over to Soarin and peeled up each of his eyelids to check his pupils. “Looks like he'll be okay,” she called over to Spitfire.

Spitfire acknowledged her with a sour grunt. But it seemed as if a tension in her body flowed out of her.

Nebula went on to tie Soarin's hooves together, then had Sky help her draw another vine around his torso to restrain his wings. Once satisfied the pegasus was fully restrained, she grabbed some more lengths of vine and turned to Sky. “Help me bind up my wing. It's not going to do me any good to keep dragging it around.”

Sky winced as he folded her wing up to her body and strapped it in place with the vines. There was a lot of swelling around her first elbow joint, and as he moved it, something inside popped and caused her whole body to jolt. She hissed with pain.

“Sorry!” Sky said.

“Get on with it,” she growled. Then a moment later, as if to distract herself from the discomfort, she asked “What happened to your armor, soldier?”

“Victim of the action, ma'am,” Sky said. “Wrapped it round a tree and smashed a pegasus into it. Not much left of it now.” He thought for a moment. “I'd like to complain to the quartermaster about the quality of workmanship,” he added.

“How did the tree turn out?”

“Err, fine I guess.”

“Then don't complain about your armor.”

Sky finished tying her wing in place. “You need a doctor to look at that,” he said.

“Really? How perceptive of you. Such observational skills are sure to take you far in the Guard.”

He wrinkled his nose at her sarcasm. “I mean, I need to get you out of here... or fly back to Canterlot... or Ponyville maybe, to get some help to carry you out of here.”

She stared at him intently for a moment. In a gentle tone, she said, “You know that's not the priority, Sky.”

He felt a cold knot forming in his stomach. She was telling him to go on without her, as if he could bear the weight of responsibility for...

For Princess Luna? For Nightmare Moon? Even if the Princess really could still be redeemed, he still knew he lacked the insight to bring her back out of Nightmare Moon.

It should have been he who had been injured, and she who was to go onward with the Princess.

But before he could say any more, Spitfire craned her head up from where she lay trussed, and started talking, as if to no one in particular.

“You think you know a pony, think you've had a good drink with her, and commiserated over the idiot greenhorns in your command, and grown to be friends... but then she turns out to be the sort to forsake her nation to follow some insane villain who enjoys the night as much as she does. It's really quite surprising.”

“Why Spitfire,” Nebula grinned, “I do believe you're upset you lost.”

“You're a pain in the ass, do you know that? I just want to understand why you've gone over to the enemy, instead of fighting her alongside us, like you should be.”

Nebula gave her a long look, and sighed. “You cannot hope to defeat her. We... even less so, as it turns out. But that's not even important. What matters is that she is our princess. We will not defy her.”

“Your princess?! Your princess is a monster!”

“No,” Nebula shook her head. “She isn't. And she will remember that she isn't.”

She turned away from Spitfire to contemplate Sky. “You remember that too,” she said.

Sky started shaking his head, backing a step in alarm. “Captain, I can't do this, I'm not... my training didn't...”

She forged on, her voice tight with a quiet intensity. “Private, you are a proud member of the Night Guard, not a mewling foal. You are steel in the cold moonlight. You are of the company that has been steadfast through the nights of a thousand years. You have pledged your life to the welfare of this land, and when Celestia offered to unbind you from the Blessing, you denied her. So don't stand there quaking in your shoes; you have strength you don't imagine.”

Sky stood frozen, transfixed by her fierceness. Hesitantly he nodded.

“She is our princess,” she continued. “We have waited a thousand years for her, and maybe it's made us a little crazy. But here's the thing, Sky. She doesn't know it, but she has waited a thousand years for us as well. We are her friends. Stay true. Remind her. She is more than just a nightmare.”

He took a deep, steadying breath. “Right...” he said.

Spitfire laughed hollowly. “Celestia's teats, you really believe all that.”

Nebula ignored Spitfire and chewed her lip, attention still fixed upon Sky. “Don't forget, you had the guts to get drunk on duty,” she continued in a low tone. “If there's anyone you should be frightened of, it's me.”

Sky gave a faltering laugh, not at all certain she had been joking.

A breeze rushed its way across the grasses, rippling them as it passed by, and then melted into the trees.

Spitfire cleared her throat. “Nebula, you know you don't look like you're in any condition to fight.”

Nebula glanced her way and raised an eyebrow. “Ask Fleetfoot about that,” she said.

From where she lay, Fleetfoot responded with an impressive string of obscenities.

Spitfire glanced her way and snorted. “Looks like I slept through some interesting times. But even so, this is the Everfree. There are big, hungry things out there. I don't relish the thought of one wandering in here to make a meal of us while we lie helpless.”

Nebula gave her a withering look. “Am I a monster now? I'm responsible for your safety. If something dangerous comes our way, I'll make sure you can make your escape, of course.”

And what about yourself? Sky wondered. The Wonderbolts could fly from any danger. Nebula was trapped on the ground now.

Spitfire gave her a guarded stare, brow furrowing. Sky could tell she had not expected such an answer. She was still struggling with understanding the vesperquines' relationship with their princess.

Sky could sympathize.

Then her gaze slid past Nebula and settled onto the treeline. “Huh. Well, here comes something now,” she said.

With a jerk, both Nebula and Sky turned their heads to follow Spitfire's line of sight. There, stepping from the trees, was Nightmare Moon, stately and proud.

She bore no obvious signs of her sorcerous exertions, yet to Sky she seemed to carry a subtle exhaustion in her every step. Nevertheless, she lifted her hooves with alacrity as she made her way to them. Once she reached them, she stopped and looked down expressionlessly.

“You have been busy, I see,” she said, observing the prisoners.

Nebula bowed as best she could manage.

“They have injured you,” Nightmare added, frowning at the sight of her bound wing.

Nebula straightened up and shrugged. “Injury is a risk of battle,” she said.

“They shall pay,” Nightmare said darkly, and took a step toward the prisoners. But Nebula quickly strode in front of her, a relaxed grin on her face.

“Oh Princess,” she said dismissively, “three of Equestria's top Wonderbolts fell to a middle-aged vesperquine and her very junior member of the Night Guard. Trust me, their egos are already paying dearly.”

Nightmare Moon paused. For a moment Sky thought her expression was about to crack into a smile. But she turned away with an exasperated harrumph instead and walked up a small rise, the grasses whisking at her hooves.

Nebula walked with her, stretching her pace to keep up with Nightmare Moon's stride. The alicorn halted and stared into the forest where she had emerged.

“The trap is set,” she said. “Those ponies' minds will be devoured, until there is nothing left to them but an abyss of terror and madness.” She paused. “A pity, really. Given the choice, they might rather a clean death,” she mused.

Nebula tightened her lips. Sky hovered nearby, splitting his attention between her and the prisoners, who strained against their bonds ineffectually.

“Then undo it,” Nebula said. “Release your trap. Show them mercy. Show them you can be kind.”

Nightmare Moon turned her head to gaze on her in wry amusement. “But I am not kind. And I have no interest in mercy. Why should I? Who has spared mercy for me?”

Nebula gave her a sad look. For a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. Then, as if changing the subject, she said, “I didn't finish telling you of your sister.”

Nightmare Moon glanced down her nose at her. “My sister? My sister means nothing.”

“Does she? Really? Well, that is unfortunate, because your sister has sorely missed you all this time.”

“Oh, do tell,” Nightmare sneered.

Nebula nodded. “It was eighty-seven years after your banishment. Princess Celestia's wounds had finally healed, but her mind was still broken. Although they say she had become more wilful in those last few months, often shrugging off those ponies who attended upon her and tried to guide her through the cycles of each day.

“So it was that she set forth for the Castle of the Pony Sisters once again,” Nebula continued. “Her guards tried to distract her and dissuade her, but she ignored them. Once again she soared to the castle; once again a look of confusion came over her face when she saw the ruins it had become. But unlike before, she ignored the chidings of her guard as they tried to bring her back to Canterlot. She settled upon a charred column, and for a long time she gazed upon the broken roofs and shattered walls. Her brow furrowed and her expression became focused, like a pony trying to work out a difficult problem. And then, after a long time, the tears began to well up in her eyes.

“She wept, Princess Luna. She wept for what she had lost. She wept for you.”

Nightmare's eyes narrowed. “Pathetic,” she said. “I do not weep. And I would spare no tears for her in any case.”

Those words—I do not weep—struck a pang in Sky's chest. They were not fearsome; instead he found them terribly sad. “That is a shame,” he murmured, but Nightmare gave no sign she heard him.

Nebula continued her story, undeterred. “After a time, Celestia stirred and returned to Canterlot. She astonished her attendants by greeting them and apologizing for her long convalescence.

“And that night, for the very first time in the lives of a great many ponies, the beauty of your moon rose over Equestria.”

Nightmare Moon stared down at her with an unreadable expression for a long moment. Then she tossed her nose with a snort. “Is that all you have to say?”

“She isn't your enemy, Princess Luna. She loves you very much.”

But her words were lost upon the bedrock of Nightmare Moon's determination. “I have no time for this maudlin foalishness,” the alicorn said with a stomp of her hoof. “Sky Diamond, to me.” She trotted forward, spreading her great wings until she launched herself into a slow glide skimming just above the ground.

Sky followed of course—what other choice did he have? But his heart quailed, and he glanced back at Nebula with a forlorn look.

She held his gaze, radiating a calm solidity. He could not share in it—but neither could he could deny the force of her attitude. If nothing else, he wanted to at least try to be worthy of that confidence. With a strangled groan he turned back to Nightmare Moon.

Her own expression was agitated, her lips twitching into a frown. She grimaced and then shot upward, spinning in the air to face Nebula.

“Captain Nebula,” she said, “your... the Night Guard will soon start reporting back to Canterlot, will they not?”

“The first groups should be arriving before long.”

Nightmare gave a tight nod. “I must complete this errand, but the moment I return to Canterlot I will send a rescue party for you. It... it will be my very first order of business.”

Nebula bowed deeply. “Thank you, Princess.”

Nightmare turned away with an impatient snort. She threw herself into the sky with strong beats of her wings.

Sky spared a glance back toward Nebula, still bowing, and then followed Nightmare Moon into the darkness.
 

For a time, Nightmare Moon was silent as they passed above the trees, mulling over thoughts she did not deign to share. Sky kept his silence as well, nervous of her mood. He did not know what to make of her oddly solicitous moment with Nebula. Was she remembering the side of her that was Princess Luna, or was she simply looking after her property?

Property. Sky winced at the thought. The vesperquines had not held true to their service for a thousand years in order to become Nightmare Moon's toys.

No, he thought as he watched her glide above the verdure. Not property. She seemed more astonished by them than they were by her. She had not expected to find them, and on some deep level, their existence posed a challenge to the righteousness of her fury.

But he did not question her, or push at her as Nebula had done. He flew off her right wing and left her to her own considerations.

The forest passed beneath him, but he found his attention drawn to the sky. The stars glittered in brilliant whorls and sheets of light, their hues a richly jeweled scattering of red and purple and green. The constellations seemed poised to leap across the sky, sparkling as if quivering with life. Even the sky's darkness was a deeply textured velvet, mysterious with the possibilities of creation. His breath caught as he let himself drown in the loveliness of it. Though the night sky was beloved of vesperquines, Sky had never seen it as spectacular as this.

And Nightmare Moon was the author of these heavens. He could not reconcile that truth with the magnificence above. She was right there on the edge of his vision: a creature who very nearly defined herself by her spite. And yet, her stars were beautiful. And yet, she had spared a moment of concern for Nebula.

From the corner of his eye, it seemed to Sky that her color was shifting, roiling between blackness and a deep, enfolding blue. But when he turned his head to look directly at her he saw only her usual sable coat with just that small splash of blue around her cutie mark.

He was tired. His mind was playing tricks on him.

Nightmare Moon glanced his way and saw him watching. She snapped her head forward and stared ahead into the night, but after only a moment she looked back at him with a sour frown. “What now?” she said.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly. Then, since that sounded like the panicky denial it was, he added, “I was admiring the beauty of your sky.” Which was also true.

She snorted. “Do you seek to cozen me with pretty words?”

Sky shook his head sharply. “We vesperquines love the night sky.” He paused, then offered, “My parents say my name refers to the brightest star in the heavens.”

“Steerius? The Cow Star?” Her voice rose in disbelief.

Sky's ears flopped. “Well... yeah. As names go, that one's not so good. So they settled on the impression it made on them, instead.”

“'Sky Diamond,'” she mused. “Certainly a more poetic choice.”

He nodded. “But what I'm trying to say is, my kind take note of the night sky. And the truth is, we have never seen it so beautiful as right now. It is alive in a way we didn't know was possible.”

She seemed puzzled by his words. “My sky? I only..." She fell silent, regarding him with a strange expression, then murmured, “Remarkable creatures you are, to pay such heed to my night.” For a moment, a trace of a smile touched her lips. But then as swiftly, it faded. “Just as I made you to be.”

Sky felt a spark of indignation catch fire in his breast. “You made us nocturnal,” he said. “But our opinions of the night sky belong to us.”

Her ears twitched. “You are a kind one, aren't you.” She flew on silently, then asked, “Is it only your kind, or are there other ponies, day ponies, who care for the night sky?”

“Oh yes,” Sky answered with a nod. “A few...” he trailed off, as he tried to bring a name to mind, any name. “Twilight Sparkle,” he said automatically, recalling the times the filly had fussed over her telescope and shooed the Night Guard from some section of the heavens she was trying to study.

He knew he'd made a mistake even as the name left his lips.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Nightmare echoed, her voice chilling into ice. “How interesting you should choose that name. Did you know I have ribbons of my mane gathering information all across Equestria? Did you know they've spied out the names of those six bothersome ponies who seek to challenge me? Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and, what was it again? Oh yes. Twilight Sparkle.” She spat the name like a bite of rotten hayburger.

Sky tried to backpedal. “She's just a pony we noticed in Canterlot, lugging around telescopes.”

“I see. That's why you made sure to learn her name.”

Sky groaned. For a moment he had hoped he might be drawing her away from this, but in the end he only ever seemed to make matters worse. It should have been Nebula here! “Well, she's Celestia's student; of course we'd have some idea of who she is,” he scrambled to explain.

Her brow furrowed. “Celestia's student,” she murmured. “Well, that is a thing I did not know. Well done, Sky Diamond.”

He paused, unnerved by her praise. “She, uh, she was interested in your night, you see.”

“My night? My night?” Poison seeped into her voice. “But, as you say, she has never truly seen my night before now. And is she admiring it, Sky Diamond?”

“Uhh...”

“She rejects my night. She declares herself my enemy.”

“She doesn't know any better!”

“Well then, she shall receive an education.” Nightmare Moon chuckled darkly.

Sky scrambled for some way of turning the conversation in another direction, but it was Nightmare herself who grew silent, leaving her thoughts to wander dark paths unspoken. Sky looked away uneasily as they flew on, and traced the wavering course of a river off to his right. It gradually drew closer, on an angle to intersect their flight path.

Sky felt a prickling along his shoulders, and turned to see Nightmare watching him.

“Tell me, Sky Diamond,” she said, “that lady friend of yours, did she love the night?”

The memories of Belle Dancer stung him. The warmth of her smile, the warmth of her lips... but no, she had never been able to see the night as he saw it.

Sky squeezed his eyes shut. “I guess Belle is a day pony through and through,” he said.

Nightmare's ears twitched. “Ah,” she said. “Thus you renounced her. Sensible.”

Sky's answering smile was a wretched slash across his face. His throat felt thick. “I loved her... still love her,” he said. “I didn't dump her. She dumped me.”

Nightmare Moon's expression chilled. “She... rejected you?”

“She tried to let me down easy.” Sky's voice cracked. “Not that it ever works...”

“She dares reject one of mine?” Her voice seethed. “I shall teach her to regret such folly!”

Sky came out of his self-pitying mood with a cold snap. “Princess?”

“Be assured, Sky Diamond, she will suffer exquisitely for her offense!” She stared into the night as if visions of retribution filled her sight.

She was talking about Belle. She wanted to hurt Belle. Sky shook his head violently. “No, Princess, that's not necessary—”

She cast a baleful glare at him. “I will not tolerate disrespect for my Night Guard.”

“It's not disrespect; she doesn't love me, that's all!” The words poured from him uncontrolled.

She doesn't love me.

Until now, he hadn't been able to speak those words. Even as he said them, he felt his heart breaking all over again. But this time something new came with it—a calming acceptance flowing through him. Though his sorrows and regrets were real, there was a path before him, and he would move onward. For all the pain he felt, it was going to be all right. He was going to be all right.

Nightmare, however.... Her features convulsed in anger. “You are overly nice, Sky Diamond. Do you mean to simply stand there and let her sneer at you?”

“She's not sneering,” Sky objected. “She would never—”

“She scorns you, rejects what you offer! You think I know nothing of such ponies? Turning up their noses and belittling you... refusing the beauty of your night... always favoring your sister...”

Sky faltered in flight, a shiver crawling up his spine.

“It's not her place to reject you,” Nightmare snarled. This wasn't about Belle anymore, Sky knew, and perhaps never had been. She had fallen into the ruined country of her own memories. “How dare she? How dare any of them? Acting as if all your gifts, as if everything you do for them is trash! You have to teach them how wrong they are! You have to make them rue the day they treated you like that! Make her learn to love you! Take her! Force her—”

“No!” Sky shouted out. He gasped as if a weight were pressing on his chest. “No, Princess, no.” He shook his head in sharp denial, and felt the tears spring to his eyes. “It doesn't work like that! You can't force anyone to love you!”

The intensity of Sky's reaction startled her from her tirade, and she stared at him, speechless. He stared back, a defiance born of his despair. How could he make her understand?

“What's the use of a love that isn't freely given?” he sobbed out.

Her mouth tightened, her lips quivering back from the pale glint of her teeth. Fire sparked in her eye, but he held her gaze, refusing to yield to her, riding on the core of his passion regardless of the consequences. They glided a long moment, a broad river passing beneath them as he stared her down resolutely.

If I don't give way, she will kill me, Sky thought. And then, If I do give way, she will be lost.

But as the awful tableau held, a smoky blue fragment of Nightmare Moon's mane swirled up from behind and melted into her ethereal hair.

She flapped her wings, her gaze snapping away from Sky, and jerked to a sudden halt. She hovered, her eyes growing wide. Sky shot past her, then shifted his wings, stretching and catching up the air. He flipped himself backwards and deftly settled beside her.

“Impossible,” she murmured. Naked shock pierced her voice. “My spells... unstrung... with a song!?”

Sky held his breath. For a moment she trembled, as if unable to process the report her mane had given. Twilight Sparkle and her friends must have somehow bypassed the soul-eating traps she had left for them. He felt suddenly buoyed—at least there was one crime that would not accrue to his princess.

She ground her teeth together. Her mane roiled and sparked, until a portion bulged and suddenly tore itself free, shooting downward to the river behind them. It zig-zagged quickly above the glass-smooth water as if seeking something. Sky traced its movements until it disappeared around a bend in the river.

For a moment, all was silent. He looked to Nightmare Moon and started to ask “Wha—” but then a horrified shriek echoed from somewhere downriver.

Nightmare nodded to herself, a trace of a smile etching her lips. The river waters rippled, then grew violently choppy. The detached portion of her mane drifted back to reintegrate with her.

Another howl arose from the distance. “River dragons are proud creatures,” she said. “They will not swiftly disregard a slight. No pony will be crossing that river.”

Sky glanced at the waters dubiously. “They have pegasi,” he pointed out. “They'll just carry their companions across.”

She snorted. “One is a timid, weak flyer. And the other may find the effort—”

The river erupted. A sinuous purple reptile flung himself straight from the water, reaching a shocking height, almost even with Sky himself. The river dragon howled, claws clutching at his muzzle, and then fell back to the waters with a tremendous splash.

“—more dangerous than she realizes,” Nightmare finished in satisfaction.

Sky stared at the river, his jaw dropping. He peered at the churning waters, but could see nothing within them. The creature did not make another appearance.

“Come,” Nightmare said. “They will not die, unless they are very foolish. Are you content, Sky Diamond?”

Sky gulped. He was no Nebula, and he was not at all certain he agreed that Nightmare Moon was, either consciously or otherwise, avoiding killing, but he had an idea what Nebula would say. “Princess, none of us in your Night Guard wish to see your reign begin in blood.”

Her face screwed up into a snarl. “Tell those who dare oppose me! Tell those who would seal me away once more!”

“They're scared,” he said. “They don't know what's going to happen. They're afraid they'll never see the sun again.”

“There is no need for the sun.”

Sky frowned, thinking desperately. “Princess, I don't care for the sun myself, but ponies, they have to have the sun. To grow things,” he stumbled over the words, grasping for Soarin's argument. “Do you like pie? Because you need the sun for pie!”

She stared at him. “Do you think me an idiot?” she said sharply. “Do you expect me to make the same mistakes again? Do you think I want them to starve? Did I not have more than time enough to consider all of this while I was sealed away?” There was a mad intensity in her voice.

“N... no, Princess, I—”

“That which I did to you, I can do to the crops just as easily. I shall fuse nocturnal plants with your foodstuffs. Moonflowers with your wheat.”

“Moonflowers? But moonflowers aren't edible—”

“Mushrooms with your strawberries! All things will thrive under the light of my moon!”

Sky tried to imagine a strawberry-mushroom pie, and then quickly tried not to. He held his tongue, but... how deeply had she truly thought this through?

They flew on in silence for a while longer, and then Sky spotted the jagged ruins of an old castle rising from the greenery ahead. He gestured toward it. “Our destination?” he asked. His stomach churned like sour milk.

“Ahh,” she said, “Everfree Castle. The city is lost to the forest, but it seems this much still stands.”

Indeed, the castle stood—though barely. Two wings gaped open to the sky, their roofs long since torn away, the halls within exposed to the elements. Other parts of the structure showed collapsed walls and broken pavements. Toward the rear, a short tower stood, its empty windows like dead eyes. At the front, there was a steep, mist-filled ravine spanned by a rope bridge.

Nightmare gestured at the bridge. “Cut that,” she said.

Sky dropped to one end. He had nothing to cut with, but it was a simple enough matter to unfasten it from its moorings. The bridge pulled free, and slapped up against the far wall of the chasm with a loud sound, the slats rattling in their bindings.

Nightmare Moon settled behind him, watching impassively. Sky turned to her and stretched his tired wings. Her gaze traced the course of the ravine.

“Down there lies the Tree of Harmony,” she murmured. “My sister and I accepted the Elements from it to fight Discord. It's why we built the castle here to begin with. The city grew swiftly, but we kept the castle grounds a nature preserve, so the Tree would be left undisturbed.”

Sky wasn't sure what a Discord was, or how a tree could live at the bottom of such a deep ravine. Those matters weren't important, though. It seemed to Sky that she had entered a reflective mood.

“The two of you ruled here,” he ventured.

“And we fought here.”

Sky nodded gravely. What would Nebula say... but no, Nebula was not here. And perhaps Nebula wasn't who Nightmare—no, who Princess Luna needed to hear. What was it that he himself could say?

Sky bit at his lip. “She wants you by her side again,” he said.

“A pretty adornment to rest in the shadow of her greatness? I think not.”

“That's not her,” he insisted. “I met her, just this evening. That's not how she thinks.”

“Just this evening?” she murmured. “What a fine anatomist of character you are, to understand her so in a single evening.”

“That's not how she thinks,” he insisted.

“Oh, shall I bring her out? Have a nice little conversation over her wretched tea? And then shall I beg her forgiveness?”

She would grant it, he thought, in a heartbeat. But that was not a thing he could say to her. Instead, he spoke slowly. “If you believe you've done nothing wrong, there's no need to ask forgiveness, is there?”

She looked his way, eyes narrowing. “That's right, Sky Diamond. There is no reason to ask forgiveness.” She paused a moment, and added “It has gone long past the point of forgiveness between us anyway.”

He took a deep breath. “Princess Luna, you know better.”

“Do I, now?” she said drily. But an instant later her eyes widened as she realized the name he had called her—the name she had answered to. Her lips thinned. “You would be well-advised not to try my patience, Sky Diamond. You know very well not to call me...”

Her voice broke off as another bit of her mane swirled through the air and rejoined her. Her eyes closed, and her wings sagged at her sides. She tilted her head back and gave a hollow chuckle.

“Those intrepid little ponies befriended—actually befriended—a river dragon. They have crossed the river.”

The night was still. She cracked her eyes open a slit, and bent her head his way. “Tell me, little one,” she said, “if you have any ideas.”

He could see exhaustion in her face. And how should she not be exhausted? In the last few hours she had broken free of being sealed in her moon, imprisoned her sister, and flown halfway across Equestria (or so it felt to him). Not to mention sundry acts of property destruction in Canterlot.

“Princess, you need a good day's sleep,” he murmured.

She gave herself a brittle shake, dispelling her apparent weariness. “Not until I have dispensed with these interlopers,” she said.

They stood quietly beside one another for a long minute, looking across the ravine. The forest wall across the way was still, the night's breeze having died down. Twilight Sparkle and her compatriots would soon come striding from that morass of vegetation.

Sky thought about what Nebula and Nightmare... no, Princess Luna had explained regarding the Elements. “You and Princess Celestia each held three of the Elements,” he mused aloud. “But a normal pony could only manage one, right?”

“If that much,” she said with a halfhearted sneer.

“There are six Elements,” he said.

“...And six rebels,” she answered with a nod. She gave him a curious glance. “Sky Diamond, are you suggesting I go kill one?”

“NO!” Sky yelped. “But if we can peel one off, get her to rush home or something...”

She pursed her lips thoughtfully and stared across the chasm, her gaze resting on the hanging bridge. “They have only one worthwhile pegasus,” she mused. She gave Sky a crafty glance. “Did you mean what you said earlier? That every pegasus dreams of joining these... Wonderbolts?”

Sky gulped.

Comments

[River Babble]

She had fallen into the ruined country of her own memories.

I love this line. I had to tell you that. Sometimes I happen upon a sentence, a phrase, that just HITS me with a perfect visual, tone, feel, and this is one. I want to borrow this simile for my own stories. Beautiful.

But while I’m here, I should mention it’s past 5 in the morning and I’m still reading. This is so good, the emotions and reasoning, the hope for someone most would right off as irredeemable. I can’t wait to see how it concludes. Thanks for writing such a beautiful, uplifting story.