The Night's Stars

by SC_Orion

Concerns

Staring out across the moonlit Equestrian heartland from her balcony, Nightmare Moon's gaze lingered on the Everfree Forest. Even as she pondered her course of action, her gaze kept slipping down to Ponyville, and her thoughts kept drifting back to her student. Part of the fault was simply that her student was why she was aware of this problem, and that irked her.

It wasn't that she was upset at her student, no. It was that somehow the mayors of the towns surrounding the Everfree Forest thought it was a good idea to avoid telling her about the problems the forest's inhabitants were causing. So, now how did she find out about these problems? Simple! She overheard one Applejack relate it to her student. And it infuriated her that the mayors not only did not ask for help but also did not tell her about this problem.

It was utterly stupid of them not to bring it up. It was utterly stupid that they risked ponies' lives and significant damage just to avoid drawing her interest. It was foalish. Perhaps not all of them did it to avoid her attention. Perhaps some of them thought that dealing with that sort of problem was what she meant when she left their autonomies in place.

She closed her eyes, inhaled, then growled. Opening her eyes, she found that she wasn't staring at the Everfree Forest. No, her gaze had yet again slipped back to Ponyville. She couldn't make out that accursed library from Canterlot, but she felt like she was staring right at it. She felt like, even though there were so many miles between her and her student, that she was looking right at her.

And she absently wondered, 'Do you feel this?'

She kept silent and listened, but she heard nothing. Cadance said nothing. Twilight said nothing. It was a quiet night, a peaceful night. But she was, once again, alone, left with those thoughts that ate at her mind, left with those thoughts that plagued her, continuously haunting her, leaving her uncertain of her decisions.

She kept watching Ponyville.

It was just a teleport away, so well within her reach.

Her horn stayed dim. She inhaled, then turned around. Her eyes and head lingered facing Ponyville until she had no choice but to look away. She walked back inside and closed the door behind her. She walked towards the door to her study, but paused in front of her bed. Turning to face it, she inhaled.

Nothing. The scent of her sister no longer assaulted her nose, and in its place, there was nothing to be smelled. Not even her own scent had sunk into those bedsheets yet. Or perhaps, she was so used to her own scent that she couldn't detect it. The scent that plagued her was finally gone, yet each time she looked at the bed, she had expected for that scent to assault her nose yet again. Even if it hadn't for a week.

She rejoiced in the triumph of that small victory, yet at the same time, she found herself missing that scent. A thousand years without smelling anything, and even the accursed scent of her damned sister that drove her to madness was a welcome break.

Her head drifted back to the right, then she resumed her stroll into her study. She had relaxed, although she had yet to truly enjoy her reign as much as she wanted to, but now it was time to act. With each moment she delayed, she risked that much more damage to her empire by those monsters that struck out in the moonless night. She took charge of the situation. Nopony was around to see it, but she strode to her desk with purpose. It was a stride that would have made anything standing in her way do anything to get out of her way.

Before she even arrived, she had swept up a quill and scroll in her magic. She dipped the quill into the inkwell, then went to work. There were orders to be written, and batponies to be deployed to contain those monsters that dared assail her empire's borders. There were mayor's to chastise for their stupidity, and there were plans to be made.

But even as she scribbled out those orders and assignments, the thought weighed on her mind, 'The batponies aren't integrated with the Guard yet.' She scowled from the thought, even if it was to be expected. The batponies were numberous, so numerous in fact, that they outnumbered the Royal Guard by more than twenty to one. And she knew that there were yet more batponies that hadn't yet been accounted for. And even then, that was only batponies that were being integrated into the guard, and surely the whole batpony population had to number in the hundreds of thousands, if not more. And each and every single one of those batponies was dedicated to her.

Practically the whole of Equestria's military was now batponies. And that, though a good thing, was also distracting. It was distracting because she was quite aware of how that would look. On the outside, and inside, of Equestria. Other empires would gawk at the supposed sudden militarization of Equestria, even if in truth, the batponies had always been there, ready to act to protect Equestria, even if it had been in service to her sister. Ponies would gawk in terror as the Royal Guard was effectively replaced by batponies.

And those batponies were so unfamiliar to them, and they knew that the batponies were hers.

The whole situation was begging for problems to arise. But she had no choice. The Royal Guard was simply too small. She could not effectively administrate her empire relying solely on the Royal Guard, let alone could she protect her empire without the aid of her batponies.

How could she? Equestria was large. Could she justify taking Royal Guards away from Manehattan, such a strategically important city that was imperative to hold, in order to protect ponies in towns neighboring dangerous forests where creatures struck at her empire? How could she not deploy guards to protect said towns? To not react would be to invite whispers questioning her rule, as ponies would see her as weak for failing to protect them. And the monsters, they would see her as weak and view Equestria as vulnerable. And that would invite even more trouble.

Once again, she found herself backed into something of a corner. She had no good choices. So she had to choose the best option available to her. Use the Royal Guard for their intended purpose, but also use them to maintain order in important cities. Then, she could use the batponies to maintain order and protect other cities.

But perhaps this was also an opportunity: ponies would see the batponies protecting them, and perhaps that would work in her favor. Indeed, ponies would also see, she hoped, that she was making an effort to protect them.

She didn't hold out hope for this to be the case, however. It left her bitter to think that ponies would ignore what she was trying to do and just see it as oppression. But then, that was nothing new. It wasn't anything she wasn't used to.

Orders written, she put the quill back in its inkwell, then read over them for a moment. Her eyes lingered on the last words for several seconds, then she rolled the scrolls up and used her magic to bind them with her seal: a crescent moon set against a purple backdrop.

A flash of magic later, and the orders had been sent to their destinations.

Another scroll levitated into place on the desk to replace those she had teleported. She unrolled it, then lifted the quill from its inkwell again. The last orders, the ones ensuring that her empire wouldn't fall from within, was important. Arguably, it was more important than this order, yet in her mind, this order was far more important. It was far more personal and held far more meaning.

She delicately maneuvered the quill across the scroll's surface, drawing out each letter of each word with precision; there was no way anything she wrote here could be misunderstood without intentionally doing so. And at last, she finished writing the order. She reread it and smiled. It sent a shiver of delight through her back. She rolled it up and bound it with her seal, then sent it off.

And with that, her student would have all she needed to rebuild her castle. And she looked forward to what the future held. 'Perhaps,' she thought, 'you will be surprised when the workforce of batponies shows up.' Perhaps she would be shocked into paralysis, so surprised that she would be given such authority, such power, such resources.

A part of her wanted to be there to see that. Another part of her hated the idea that Twilight would be paralyzed by that power, as it was just another example of how badly her dear sister had crippled her student.

And with the thought of her sister assaulting her mind, she scowled. 'Why do you continue to haunt me so?' growled in her mind, 'Was it not enough to mock me!?'

She exhaled sharply, then set the quill back in the inkwell. For a few seconds, she stood there, the inferno in her mind growing and churning, boiling any semblance of comfort and victory she had claimed away.

Then her thoughts drifted back to her student, and the inferno calmed. In its place, her chest tightened and twisted: anxiety. She was giving Twilight too much authority, she felt. She was perhaps not ready for it, yet that wasn't what truly bothered her. She was giving her student so much opportunity to betray her. True, batponies would be who were under her student's command, yet that did not mean her student couldn't figure out a way to pull something off.

'Don't betray me...' was her hope.

And there was still the possibility that her student had already somehow betrayed her. She was not there every second to keep an eye on her student. She listened, yes, but that didn't mean Twilight didn't find a way around that. She could not see what Twilight saw, so in her time with her friends, she could have found a way to plot against her without giving it away.

But then, Midnight was there. Midnight would ensure that did not happen.

And a part of her felt that she was overthinking the entire situation. The part of her shouted out in her mind, 'She will not betray me, she is not that kind of pony.'

It ate at her mind and left her so divided, the duality she faced. Her student left her feeling so unsure, the more she thought about her. Her student's potential, she had to grow her and bring it out. But doing so was such a risk, as that potential could so easily be her undoing.

She was obsessed with that unicorn. She knew it was so. She kept it to herself. She couldn't admit that to anypony, least of all her student. She couldn't risk Twilight taking advantage of it, she couldn't risk Twilight betraying her. And she knew that telling her student that would only put more pressure on her. Already, she knew Twilight was under too much pressure. It was stagnating her growth and making things more difficult on both of them.

She growled and shook the thoughts of her student from her mind. Or at least she tried. It was impossible for thoughts of her student to completely disappear. They always lingered in the back of her mind, ready to jump to the forefront without hesitation.

It was obvious because of her dreams, and how many times she had watched Twilight sleep.

When she watched that filly sleep, her student's vulnerability was screamed out in her mind. It stood out above everything else, it was practically the only thing that occurred to her. And that vulnerability was maddening. The fact that her sister had left Twilight so weak and undefended made her somehow hate her sister all the more.

She felt that it was imperative to teach Twilight to protect herself. She felt that it was imperative to create something that would ensure Twilight would be safe when she wasn't there. Even knowing Midnight was there to protect her student barely took the edge off of those needs.

Her dreams of Twilight took one of two forms: Either her dreams were peaceful, so calm, with such a casual friendship between them that soothed her soul, or those dreams were so twisted, with her student so terrified of her that at the drop of a feather she would shatter, like a mirror struck by a hammer.

And those dreams of the latter category, they were also so disappointing, so tiring. They were nightmares. But when she dreamed of her and her student not having that mistrust and distance between them, she awoke so refreshed. She wanted that bond with her student so that Twilight wasn't terrified of her. And maybe that was foalish because it might not have been in her best interest. If Twilight wasn't afraid of her, then there would be less stopping her student from trying to betray her.

Maybe it was an unreasonable fear, because she knew, 'There are ways other than fear to keep her from betraying me.'

And what came to mind was that if she had that bond with her student, her student would not betray her.

She wanted it, but it was insane to think it could ever happen. Twilight was her student; she was Queen and Empress. She was an immortal alicorn, and Twilight was a mortal unicorn filly.

But her student had potential.

She licked her lips.

She realized that once again her mind was consumed by thinking of her student. She exhaled, and it came out as a groan. She shut her eyes and inhaled, then exhaled again. 'You're going to be the death of me...' growled out in her mind. She felt nearly certain it was a fact. Perhaps they would be fighting alongside one another, and then her student would distract her. Or perhaps, she would have to fight her student, and she would be unable to do what needed to be done.

Or perhaps she would find herself compelled to do something stupid, something that wasn't in her best interest. There was even the chance that she would have convinced herself it was in her best interest.

She jerked her hoof into the air, then rammed it back into the floor, grinding her teeth together and growling. 'I'm too fond of you,' she knew. When she returned, she could have tortured Twilight to break her dear sister. Now, she couldn't have done that, even if it was the only use her student had left. She couldn't imagine how she could have managed to bring herself to do that to her student.

And it occurred to her again, that her student was distracting her.

It was maddening. If she let it, it would make her scream in rage.

She closed her eyes, inhaled, then let her chest deflate. As the air rushed back out, she tried to push her stress out alongside it. It helped. She opened her eyes, then turned around and walked to the door. She opened the door with her magic and strolled out into the hallway, ignoring the two Royal Guards at her door.

She walked on, keeping her mind sharp and forcing the thoughts of her student away. Whenever the slightest hint showed up, she stamped it out with an iron hoof. She walked on, walking the hallways, letting her hooves carry her where she needed to go. Then, she came to a stop. The door before her was emblazoned by a crystal heart: Cadance's cutie mark.

She knocked on the door, then waited. She sensed Cadance's movement as soon as she knocked, and then the door opened in her magic. For a moment, Cadance froze at the sight of her, then she recovered and looked up oh so meekly. "Dear Cadance," she greeted.

"Nightmare..." was Cadance's drawled acknowledgment.

But her hesitance was expected, and so she ignored it. Slowly, Cadance stepped to the left. Calmly, she strolled on inside. She let her eyes drift over Cadance's study. It wasn't that different from her own, or how it had been. But she ignored most of the details. Cadance closed the door.

Cadance walked around her left, then turned in front of her to face her. It was a slow, timid turn. "What... do you want?"

"I have yet to have time to discuss this with you, but I feel the need to bring it up now. That, and I have time for the moment. The Gala? Twilight Sparkle brought this up some time ago, and she suggested you would be of assistance with this," she stated.

Slowly, Cadance nudged her head up and down, then asked, "The Grand Galloping Gala?"

"Is that what it is called?" was her question.

"Yes," was Cadance's simple answer.

"Tell me of it," she stated.

Cadance rolled her head to the left and looked at the floor. After a second, Cadance's eyes shot back onto her. "It's a yearly event that's become a tradition. The main event is held in Canterlot Castle, but the whole city participates, and it's something of a tourist attraction..." was her explanation.

"And what, dear Cadanza, is this main event?" she asked.

"Well..." Cadance drawled, "It's... essentially... a party of sorts. An upper class one. An event which generally... your sister and I would have attended. Nobles would get to openly meet and talk with us."

She nodded, but a scowl slipped out. Already, she hated where this was going. Already, she felt a bitterness deep inside her chest. Of course, it was a social event. She knew that much already, but the purpose of the event? Now that struck at her. Holding the Gala would have been a good idea, as it would bring some sense of normalcy to Equestria. It was something Equestria needed. But with this? That history where her dear sister would interact with nobles? That was mocking, as now, nopony would attend the event if she were to fill that same role. The nobles would avoid her, she knew. They hated her. And so it was a mockery of her. It was practically spitting in her face, as the ponies had done so long ago.

She had half the mind to abolish the event; Dear sister continued to mock and insult her, dear sister continued to rub it in her face how everypony gave her their love, and she received only their hate, spite, and blame.

Though it was a mockery to her, she could still somehow twist this to her favor and use it against her sister. It would be good for Equestria, as much as she hated the idea. So she asked, "Are you capable of overseeing this? I do not know what it involves, and I do not care for dealing with this myself."

Cadance gave her a timid nod in response, though she said nothing.

"Then you will oversee this. I will not be attending. You, however, will be," she stated.

Again, Cadance nodded timidly.

For a few seconds, she watched the lesser alicorn. Then, she turned around and opened the door with her magic. She walked towards the door, then Cadance called, "Why do you want this?"

So she stopped. She stopped and looked back at Cadance. Cadance just barely had the courage to add, "It's... not something I would expect from you."

Then she answered, "It is in my best interest," and left with nothing more.

For several seconds, Cadance stood unmoving. Then, she heard Cadance's magic, followed by the door clicking closed.

She put the meeting out of mind. The Gala would be taken care of. Cadance would make sure of it. And that would hopefully add some stability to her rule. But she pushed any further thought of the event out of her mind, as it only served to draw her ire.

The walk back to her chambers took just as long as the walk to Cadance's chambers had taken. The whole while, her only company was her own thoughts and the click of her boots on the marble floor. It left her thinking, and her thoughts were once again of her student. 'I'm too fond of you,' repeated in her mind.

But perhaps that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Her student, though terrified of her and attempting to avoid her, had said she did not hate her. And she took that with some sense of relief. A pony who didn't hate her. A pony who wasn't a batpony who didn't hate her. It meant something to her, she had to admit. And then there was what they could share together, magic, studies, the night sky.

Her dear sister lying to both of them, using them both for her own purposes, and then betraying them.

As she neared her chambers, she saw one of her least favorite ponies. His sight brought a scowl to her lips, and she slowed. She drew out her stride as much as she could, ensuring he had to wait on her, or come to her. And of course, said Captain of the Guard noticed her approach, and he stood at attention. There was a mask of respect in his stance, but she could see right through it, and there was no love behind it.

If this Captain had not been so important, he would have been replaced weeks ago. But she endured the pain he caused. He did his job well enough, and there was a possible future benefit to keeping him around, even if she had not heard him and Cadance speak of such things yet. Keeping him around was also likely beneficial for her student.

"Captain," she acknowledged dissinterestedly as she came to a stop.

"Queen Nightmare Moon," was his similar acknowledgment.

"Speak," was her command.

At that, the captain straightened and stood rigidly. He looked straight ahead at her chestplate and said, "Delegations have arrived from the Zebras and Minotaurs. They've requested an audience with you."

And she stood up straighter at that. 'So you finally decide to show up...' growled in her mind. Over a month. That was how long it took representatives from those two nations to finally arrive. That was how long it took them to finally try to communicate with her. The sun had been gone for over a whole month, and only now did they seek out the root of the problems. They had to know it was her. They had to know her dear sister was now locked away. That information had to have spread well beyond Equestria's borders by now.

And they waited so long to give her the respect and acknowledgment she deserved.

And one thought came to mind concerning them, and that thought was spat out in her mind with disgust, 'Cowards!' She inclined her head and answered, "Then I will speak to them immediately."

"Of course," was the captain's response. "This way," he said, turning to his right. "Please follow me."

He led and she followed. She scrutinized him as he walked, and every time her eyes fell on his form, she saw his gait tense. It reminded her all too much of his sister, of her student. She had the same effect on everypony else she had yet encountered, save for her batponies, but with the captain, it felt wrong. With the whole Royal Guard, it concerned her: the way her predatory gaze struck fear into them. It was useful, but it was a liability. It could spur them to action, but it could paralyze them into inaction.

Still, when she looked at Captain Shining Armor, she struggled to grasp that familiar bond he shared with her student. Could this captain have truly been her student's brother? They were so different, they acted so different, they looked so different. Yet despite their differences, she had seen how Shining Armor comforted her student. She remembered that, and it was one of the reasons she kept him around.

It reminded her of her dear sister and how she lied to her. Yet where her dear sister lied and betrayed her, in her student's relationship with the captain, she saw none of those lies. And a part of her was jealous for what her student had: family that loved her. It could make her so bitter if she let it or if she focused on thinking about it because it inevitably would draw back her memories of her dear sister.

But there were more important things to think on. If delegations had finally arrived, then that meant other nations, aside from the Deer Kingdom, were finally taking an interest in what had transpired. How could they not? In their cowardice, they waited so long. Too long, even with the distance they had to travel. It was absurd. It annoyed her. It made her joyous. There was absolutely no reason any of them could have missed what had happened, for what was more obvious than the sun's disappearance and her eternal night?

And she wondered, 'Do they know who I am? Do they remember me, from all those centuries ago? Or did dear sister erase even their records of me!?' Would it be another insult that she would find, like the Deer remembering her while her own beloved subjects did not? Or would she find that, like her own kin, they did not remember her, or they had no record of her.

It fascinated her.

"Tell me of the representatives," she commanded.

There was a pause in the captain's stride; a misstep. He didn't stumble, but it slowed him. "...the Minotaur representative says his name is Steel Bar, and the Zebra representative says her name is..." he trailed off. For several seconds, there was silence aside from the click of their boots on the marble, then he admitted, "I can't pronounce it."

"And did they come alone?" she queried.

He shook his head. "Steel Bar came with two others, the zebra came alone."

'Not surprising.' "Pray tell, what should I expect of this?"

The captain's head twitched to the left and for the briefest moment, he glanced back at her. Then he looked straight ahead again and answered, "They didn't seem happy."

She scowled and clenched her teeth. "I see," was all there was to be said. It was yet another reason to hate the pending meeting. It would result, she knew, in more problems, more headaches, all haunting her rule. But she held the cards here, and they were in her domain. She had the advantage, and she would use that.

But she did not want things to escalate out of hoof. There was a difference between forcing them to respect her and give her what she deserved and intentionally starting a war. No, a war was unwanted. If she was forced into a war, then she would win. She would break them, and she would claim victory over them.

But a war wasn't in her best interests. War was destructive, she knew, from first-hoof experience. She knew the horrors of war, things that shouldn't have been, yet were. Equestria was, even with the batponies being integrated, unprepared for war. Equestria was too soft. Her dear sister had left Equestria so vulnerable. And yet, it still occurred to her, that Equestria had overcome so much strife, and it ate at her mind to know her sister had succeeded so.

She seethed even more when she considered that Equestria was so undefended. It could have ended so badly for Equestria. She had to be missing something. Unless sister knew that the batponies would intervene. Sister probably knew, and that calmed her anger, even if her sister's actions were still foalish.

Even if she would win any war she was forced into, a war wasn't in her best interests. Equestria wasn't prepared. A war would bring hardship, and given what hardship Equestria was already dealing with, it wasn't in her best interests to pile that much more on top of it. A war would require mobilizing resources that would harm the economy. Harming the economy would cause more uncertainty, and she could already see the end result. Protests, dissent, strife. Rebellion.

No, a war was unwanted. If they gave her a war, then she would win it. If they left her no choice, she would take it and win it. If she had no choice, then it would be so. But as long as they did not cause problems, a war wasn't something that would have been beneficial. She would not start one when there were alternatives.

She inhaled, then exhaled as her thoughts drifted back to her student and it occurred to her, 'You are not here to help me.' Perhaps her student wouldn't have been much help in this situation, or perhaps she did not give her student enough credit. At the very least, her student would be more knowledgeable than her as how to best proceed.

Maybe. But then, there was a distinct possibility that her student would be unable to help her and would not know any better than she did. Equestria had been, after all, oh so isolated. Even with her attempts to catch up on history, well, it had been a one thousand year absence. It was no easy task. And then, Equestria had been isolated from other countries for most of that time, so there was very little information about the outside world.

And it weighed on her mind. 'Why?' Why did her dear sister nearly entirely cut off outside contact from Equestria? True, ponies had herd instincts, were naturally prey, and distrustful of new things, but this seemed so much more than just a culmination of that.

So much, it seemed to her, was not the way things should have been. The Griffin Empire? Gone. The Crystal Empire? Still gone. Equestria's military? Gone, aside from her batponies and a miniscule number of Royal Guards. Contact and relations with outside nations? Nonexistant, aside from trade. The Deer Kingdom? Underpopulated, and unmerged with Equestria. Her sister fighting to stop her? Her sister essentially just surrendered. An actual threat to her establishing her reign? Nonexistent, aside from those threats which she prayed did not come to pass.

It left her wanting to scream at how little sense it all made.

But she kept herself from screaming. It would not have done to vent, especially not around ponies who did not know her thoughts, ponies who would see it as happening without cause. That would create uncertainty, they would ask, 'Is our Queen even sane?' and fear her all the more. And that fear was not a productive fear.

Reluctantly, a thought came to her mind, 'Maybe I am overthinking this...'

There was that chance. It felt like a small chance, but it was there. It was still an insane thought. She couldn't let her guard slip.

The captain slowed, then turned to face a double door. She slowed and looked over the doors. She squinted. It was a room she was unfamiliar with. However, she expected it to be a meeting room of some kind. It made the most sense, given that the Throne Room had yet to be repaired.

She had taken a liking to the crater.

She looked at the captain, who nodded and said, "They're waiting inside."

"Both delegations?" she queried. He inclined his head in a rigid nod. She turned away from him and studied the doors for a moment longer, then lit her horn.

But she didn't open the doors. No, not yet. She calmly walk forward, then turned, centering herself where the doors met. Then, she used her magic and pressed the doors inward. They parted, then crept into the room as they opened.

Her expectation had been correct, as it was a meeting room with four occupants: three minotaurs and a zebra. All heads turned to face her, and then the minotaurs that, from even the distance towered over her, froze in fear as her sharp gaze jumped over each one of them.

She glanced at the zebra, but there was no discernable reaction from her.

She lifted her right forehoof, then stepped into the room. She calculated that step, along with each following step. The steps announced her arrival. The steps announced her power. Those steps meticulously told each representative who she was. And once she was clear of the doors, she shut them without looking away from the group.

She looked at the zebra again. But there wasn't much for her to see: The zebra wore a loose brown cloak that covered her body. The edges of the cloak were gilded, and where the cloak covered her flanks there was a spiral that ran inward in a clockwise direction. Moving towards her rib cage, a belt was strapped around her body. From the belt, several flasks hung, each filled with a colored fluid: green or purple or blue. Around her neck a clasp held the garment on her. Set in the clasp was, on the right, a rising sun that made her blood boil, and on the left, a familiar descending crescent moon that made her blood freeze. The sun and moon displayed almost danced together, almost identical to those banners that mocked her so, almost identical to the unchanged flag of Equestria.

'How dare you!' snarled out in her mind. But outwardly, all she let slip out was a flick of her lip and a glimpse of her teeth. Yet, the more logical part of her mind was fascinated with that medallion, 'How do you have such a medallion, and why?' It held so much meaning related to Equestria. Why would a zebra have it?

Perhaps the zebra was more familiar with Eqeuestria than she thought; perhaps Equestria had more dealings with zebras than she had determined.

She turned her attention back to the minotaurs. In the middle, at the forefront of the group, was who she assumed to be their leader: he was larger than both of his companions and looked at least a decade older than them. His horns grew out almost horizontally to reach his shoulders, then curved up, back in, and finally straight up. With nothing on, she could see his muscles, and they put an earth pony's to shame. And she knew that he could likely defeat her in a contest of strength, but she had other advantages that he did not. He was much taller than her: he stood at her own height, and then perhaps another half of her height. Both minotaurs accompanying him stood a head shorter than him, though both looked almost equally as strong as he did.

But their height advantage over her gave none of them any comfort or confidence. Their turn to face her was slow and drawn out, and the leader was unwilling to step forward to face her. In contrast, that short zebra was unphased and approached her with a casual gait that spoke of one unafraid of consequences.

"You are the Queen, who calls herself Nightmare Moon?" was the zebra's question.

She turned back to face the Zebra and inclined her head. "I am," she answered.

The zebra lowered her head, then looked over her body from her boots to her chestplate and wings, then to her head, helmet, and horn. Then the zebra raised her head back up and met her gaze.

Though she already knew the answer, she asked anyway, "For what purpose are you here?"

The zebra inclined her head, inhaled, and then spoke, "I have come to speak with Princess Celestia-"

That accursed name was unacceptable! It drew her anger, and her lips pulled back in hatred. But she didn't lose herself to that inferno. She spoke firmly, but in a calculated manner. To lose control would be to show weakness at best, and at worst, losing control would invite disaster. There was no reason for her to go out of her way and attack this zebra when that would invite a war she did not need. So she held herself in check, but gave her warning: "Do not," she growled, "speak that name around me." She stared at that zebra intently, willing her predatory gaze to pierce the zebra's will and skew her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the three minotaurs take the slightest step back, and it was such a step that none of them realized they had taken it. But her growl and glare only gave the zebra a momentary pause before she nodded.

"My apologies, Queen Nightmare Moon," was the zebra's calm response. "I had intended to speak with your sister-"

Nightmare's eyes narrowed. She scrutinized every inch of the zebra's features. There had to be something more to her, something more that she was missing. But yet, she found nothing out of place. But then, she had no prior knowledge of this zebra, nor did she even know her name. 'The zebras know who I am...' And that thought nearly brought her to seeth. Did everyone except her beloved subjects remember her? Did everyone except her beloved subjects know who she was and what her dear sister had done!?

"-about the sun and moon, but..." the zebra trailed off. She saw the zebra's hesitation to continue. Nothing needed to be said, as it was obvious what went unsaid: 'I have found you in her place, so that answers our questions.' However, the zebra still chose to continue and said, "It is clear what has transpired here."

"Yes," Nightmare said succinctly.

For a few seconds, nothing more was said between them. She stared at the zebra, refusing to back down. The zebra watched her with a cautious, yet mostly disinterested, or perhaps casual, gaze. And it ate at her mind. Did this zebra not recognize who she was? Did this zebra not know what she could do? But yet, this zebra did know who she was, this zebra had to know her power. But this zebra wasn't intimidated. The zebra did not respect her, the zebra did not fear her.

"Are we going to have problems?" Nightmare asked.

"We would much prefer the return of your sister and her sun, as your broken cycle must be undone. But it is true that we cannot stop you," the zebra admitted. "We are not fools. We will not provoke you, but you are not welcome among my kind."

She snorted. "So long as you stay out of my way," she hissed, "I couldn't care less what your kind does. Do not cause me problems, and I will not cause you problems."

"Your reign is already causing us problems," the zebra related. "During the night where the moon hides, dangers grow restless, and all are falling prey to those who you would shelter in this blackness."

"I am aware of this," Nightmare answered. "I will take your worries into consideration, but do not think I am under obligation to do so."

The zebra inclined her head. For a moment longer, she watched her, then she turned her gaze to the minotaurs. "Steel Bar, I presume?" The minotaur at the head of the group reluctantly nodded. "Speak," was her command.

The group's leader hesitated, then finally managed to gather whatever courage he had and said, "The Emporer sent us to speak with... her." His voice was rough, almost like he had been gargling nails and his throat had been shredded. There was an aged quality to his voice, alongside respect, qualities that she suspected his two guards lacked.

"And she is my prisoner," Nightmare answered. "So you will be talking to me."

The two minotaurs accompanying Steel Bar glanced at him, and both held themselves rigidly, unwilling to relax. Both were prepared to act on something, if something came up. She could see their tensed muscles, but their strength was only meant for intimidation: behind that displayed strength was an utter lack of courage. Whatever courage they normally possessed was nothing more than dread now. They may have been physically stronger than her, but they all knew who held all of the power in this room. They felt it.

"Given... Equestria's change of leadership..." he ventured carefully, "the Emporer would be..." he paused and waited a few moments, appearing to search for the right word, "reassured," he finally said, "if you have no plans to alter our current relations and deals."

"I presume you are referring to our trade deals?" she asked. The minotaur nodded. "I have no desire to alter them at this point in time," was her answer.

"I... have to ask about the sun," Steel drawled.

She scowled. "I am not bringing the sun back." To punctuate her statement, she lifted her right forehoof, then stamped it down. All three minotaurs winced, but the zebra did not. "Do not ask again," she warned.

"The Emporer won't be happy about that," Steel cautioned.

Nightmare jerked her head to the side. "I do not care whether your Emporer is happy or not. That is not my concern," she hissed.

"Don't threaten us," was Steel's calm retort.

She smiled. "You would be wise to remember who I am," was all she said. It was all she needed to say. The three minotaurs went silent, and their silence was a haunted silence. She let that silence last for several seconds before inhaling and adding, "I have no desire for conflict with the minotaurs or the zebras. So long as you stay out of my way, I do not care what you do. If there is anything else we need to discuss, then let us continue. But if you insist on discussing the sun, my moon, and my dear sister," she spat, "then this meeting is over."

She waited. Neither Steel nor the unnamed zebra spoke up. They didn't speak up about the sun, her eternal night, or her dear sister. They didn't ask for anything, they didn't offer anything. Perhaps Equestria's relations with the minotaurs and zebras would be harmed by this, but it wasn't unexpected, and it wasn't as if Equestria had much in the way of relations with either of them. Her ascent to the throne had brought with it so many more problems, and this, assuming nothing more than such disputes occurred, was not her biggest concern. Losing trade with the minotaurs would be a problematic loss, one that would not be beneficial, but it would not break her empire.

If a war occurred, she would not be the instigator. She would not let the world see her as the aggressor, rather, she would be the defender, the Queen protecting the vulnerable Equestrian ponies from outside threats. Ponies would see her in such a way, and it would be as it was so long ago, when they respected her for protecting them. Outside threats were always good for unifying ponies.

But even if good could come from war, it wasn't in her best interests. A war would cause more problems, more headaches, consume more of her time.

If they wanted a war, she would win it, but she would not start one. Not when there were better options. Not when the cost of a war was so great.

But with any luck, there would be no war. They didn't threaten such, and though she knew they did not have the final say, their word mattered.

Perhaps she had been too aggressive. But it was in her best interest to show strength and authority. They had shown their cowardice in waiting so long to approach her. This gave her the opportunity to strengthen her position. But slipping up and being too aggressive was dangerous. If she miscalculated, it could be disasterous.

"The Emporer wants to know what your goals are," Steel finally stated.

Which roughly translated into, 'The Emporer wants to know whether you're going to be a threat.' "Equestria is mine," she answered. "That is my goal. To rule Equestria and outshine my dear sister."

"The darkness does not shine like the light," was the zebra's comment.

She forced herself not to scowl at the insult, even as that insult made her blood boil. She tried to hide just how much it infuriated her. The minotaurs still stepped back. The zebra still didn't react. 'I will outshine you dear sister,' she affirmed in her mind, the thought coming in a vicious growl.

If she couldn't, she'd be damned. If she couldn't, then she'd tear the world apart until that unquenchable, primal lust for vengeance was sated. If she couldn't, she'd spend eternity tearing her sister apart and breaking her piece by piece. Consequences be damned.

She growled, "I am done here," then teleported away.

That double image from her teleport burned into her mind: the uninterested casual look of that zebra. She hated that zebra. The door to her chambers came into focus. She used her magic and rammed the door open. The guards jumped, then jumped again as that door hit the wall inside her chamber.

She ignored their distress and marched inside, then closed the door behind her with her magic. She sucked air into her lungs, then forced it back out with the force of a dragon.

It kept playing again and again in her mind, how unafraid of her that zebra was. How that zebra didn't care just how much power she had, how it didn't matter that she was Queen and Empress, how it didn't matter that she had brought eternal night. It kept playing again and again in her mind, how everypony spited her and hated her. Centuries ago, and with her return. The inferno in her mind left her trembling. Her legs shook, her lips wobbled. She felt the pressure of her jaw clamped down in her teeth, in her gums. It brought back the memory of breaking her dear sister's wing. The memory gave her an ecstatic glee that soothed her soul, but then it twisted.

Her dear sister had denied her of so much. Her dear sister mocked her and plagued her mind even now. She had no peace, not while her dear sister and everypony else refused to love and respect her. They all hated her, every last one of them, except her batponies. And she had the audacity to be merciful to them. She had the audacity to give those ponies who so hated her a chance! How dare she! Before her banishment, she would have crushed them for refusing to respect her so. Before her banishment, she had the right idea!

'But you do not hate me...' whispered in her mind.

It was all it took for every thought in her mind to change in an instant: the boiling anger cooled, and contemplation overtook her bitterness. A part of her felt a sense of whiplash, one not unlike the double image she saw when teleporting. But unlike the double image which barely phased her, the sense of whiplash disorientated her. Anger, then the anger being gone, replaced with her reason, her intellect.

And even worse, she felt unease filling her chest and flooding her mind.

She inhaled, then exhaled. She glanced down at her chestplate; it was still imperfect, despite her attempts. It was scarred. She glanced down at the black coat of her leg, then at the cyan boot she wore. She looked back at the crescent moon set in the center of her chestplate.

'There is no reason to consider this a lost cause yet,' she reasoned. Ponies hated her, ponies didn't respect her. They didn't love her, just like so long ago. They wouldn't love her, like so long ago. They feared her. But it wasn't a lost cause. It wasn't a reason to snap and erase it all. No, such would be contrary to her plans. It wasn't in her best interest. She wouldn't consider it a lost cause. She wouldn't just snap and become a monster.

She wouldn't let herself. She would stop herself if it was necessary.

She growled, then looked back up. She turned, then strode into her bedroom, turned again, and strode out onto her balcony.

Then, she stopped at the railing. She stopped and starred up at her moon, blemished though it was. 'This is all your fault,' hissed in her mind. After that, silence.

She felt the gentle night breeze washing over her coat. She felt the air, calm though it was, flowing between her feathers, caressing each with a delicate, tender touch. It was a sharp contrast with the hatred she felt. The air did not condemn her while everypony, everything, else did. The air soothed her anger. She let her gaze drop from the moon. She looked across Canterlot. Those beams of light shooting out into the city from windows marred her beautiful night. It made a mockery of the beauty she brought. Ponies still hated her, despite what she had gifted them with.

She inhaled, then exhaled. She had so much power. Acting on her whims and anger to vent would have been foal's play. But it wasn't in her best interests, as much as she wanted to. But perhaps she could act on those frustrations and angers. After all, what was her victory if she did not take time to enjoy it?

Her eyes shot back to the moon. She stared at those craters, then lit her horn.

But the spell fizzled out. She clenched her jaw. The only thing stopping her from visiting her dear sister was how much magic she needed to keep the Elements of Harmony contained.

And so it gave her something to look forward to: when she could safely lock the Elements away without fear of them being used against her. And with that thought in mind, her head turned, and her gaze fell on the Everfree Forest. The distance was too great, but she still looked for her home.

She didn't find it, and so her eyes drifted back to Ponyville, drifted back to where she thought that tree was. 'Do not disappoint me...' whispered in her mind.

And she smiled. There was an irony there that she couldn't miss: dear sister had intended for Twilight to stop her, but instead, Twilight would only further her own plans. Twilight would oversee the rebuilding of her castle, then she could safely hide the Elements away. Then, she could play with her dear sister again, and how that thought made her shiver in delight!

And she still had yet another opportunity there: her sister treasured Twilight. Perhaps she did not need to follow up on anything she said, perhaps she could break her sister simply from saying that she had tortured her sister's student.

'My student...' a whisper in her mind corrected. Her mind lingered on the words. Her gut twisted in on itself and she grimaced. It would be no better than what her dear sister had done to her if she so used her own student in such a way, to use Twilight against her sister. To just use Twilight the way her sister had? She felt doubt; she felt disgust.

Her thoughts drifted back to lying to her sister about torturing Twilight, about torturing her student. Her sister would believe she had, if she lied about it. There was no doubt in her mind about that. And she could detail it oh so well. She could ram that dagger into her sister's heart, then twist it so deep inside of her that her sister would scream in anguish and beg her to stop. But then, thinking of detailing torturing her own student, a foal, the one pony who wasn't a batpony and didn't hate her, left her feeling a weight and twist in her chest. It felt like to do so would be to betray her student. To betray her student like her dear sister had betrayed her. She could detail it so well that she could picture it. And she hated it. It left a familiar bitter taste in her mouth. And the thought of lying so to her sister, even with as much as she had done, ate at her mind.

To do so would make her no better than her dear sister who had lied to both her student and herself. To follow up on it? To play with her dear sister as she desired? That would make her a monster.

'Do not betray me, Twilight Sparkle...' whispered in her mind. She hoped her student wouldn't.

Even thinking of torturing her student, Twilight Sparkle, if the filly betrayed her, tormented her. She didn't want to torture the filly. Even if it was years into the future when that filly was a mare, she felt a desire to avoid hurting her. 'I'm too fond of you,' came to her mind again. But this time, it didn't draw her ire. No, it made her feel a twist in her chest and stomach. It made her feel anxious.

And it was still under the assumption that Twilight would betray her that she would torture her, and that seemed unlikely and far-fetched. Twilight was not a pony to betray her, perhaps only out of fear. The thought that Twilight wouldn't betray her only out of fear made her concerned: she didn't want Twilight to fear her, she wanted her student to be able to relax around her. She didn't like how tense her student was around her. She didn't like how much she scared Twilight. She wanted that bond with her student that she dreamed about. It wasn't in her best interest for Twilight to fear her, yet it still was in her best interest for Twilight to fear her so that her student did not betray her. Even with that in mind, she felt convinced Twilight would not betray her for more reasons than just fear. 'You will only betray me,' she thought, 'if you can free my sister, defeat me, or my sister has returned.'

She was convinced of that, and those circumstances were so limited. Perhaps she did not need to be so distrustful of her student given that, but there was no reason to do something so foalish as to ignore and deny the possibility that Twilight could backstab her and betray her. She wanted to trust her student. She wanted to be able to trust her student, not because fear kept Twilight from doing anything, but because her student would choose not to betray her.

She didn't want to imagine her student betraying her. The thought ate at her, just like the memories of her sister's betrayal.

She would not betray Twilight and torture her. The more she thought about it, the more she hated the idea. She could picture herself tormenting the filly, and it made her want to look away. She could picture Twilight so terrified of her, and she hated it. She could hear Twilight's cries and whimpering in her mind, and it brought her to seeth. Hearing it made her tremble, she hated it so much. She hated it almost as much as she hated her dear sister.

Or maybe as much.

'I will not torture you,' she affirmed in her mind, 'even if you betray me.'

To do so would have crossed a line. It was a line she couldn't cross. It was a line she would not cross. It would have made her a monster.

She still knew, 'One thousand years ago, I would have,' and it left her more aware of the chill the night air held.

A thousand years in banishment had given her time to think.

She listened again, but heard nothing from Cadance and Twilight. She lit her horn, then teleported to her student's library. There was a duality to the double image she saw, and for some reason, it unnerved her: the image of the night sky and Ponyville before her, all shrouded in her beautiful night, and then the warm, golden glow of candelight flooding Twilight's library over it, reminding her of her dear sister's day.

The crack of magic signaled her arrival. She didn't even get a chance to look at her student before the unicorn squeaked. When her gaze fell on the filly, her body was already tensed and rigid. Her student was laying on the floor, her forehooves tucked in under her chest. A book was opened before her, though she couldn't determine what book. She vaguely recognized the spell matricies it depicted, however, as healing spells. Twilight stared up at her.

She silently sighed, then turned to face her. As she turned, she looked away and let her gaze drift over the library's interior. It looked nearly identical to what she remembered from watching her student find that accursed book that detailed the Elements of Harmony. All that was missing were those five mares. Midnight stood at attention as her gaze drew close. She nodded, and the batpony leaned back against the wall. She turned back to Twilight, then looked at the book again. "Do you not know healing magic?" she questioned.

Her voice was enough to calm her student down. She saw the tensed muscles in Twilight's back relax, and her student blinked and swallowed. "Um, well, yes, but... it-it's good to refresh on it, and, um... I'm not that familiar with healing magic."

She inclined her head to nod. "Healing magic is useful, although unless one has a lot of magic available, the spells are not so powerful," was her comment.

"Regeneration spells are better?" Twilight asked.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes. They are significantly more efficient, although starving yourself, or whoever you are trying to heal, by using one is not generally a wise idea."

Twilight pursed her lips. She could almost see her student thinking it over, then Twilight nodded. "Um... w-what are you..." Her student slowed, and she saw her stop with a wince. Then, Twilight continued, "Um... doing... here?"

She heard the nervousness in Twilight's voice, and that nervousness all but said, 'I don't want you to be here!' And hearing that hurt her, just like seeing her student afraid hurt her. "I wished to visit you," she answered.

Her student looked confused for a moment, but then it faded. "O-oh, um, okay..." was her timid acknowledgement.

'You are still uncomfortable in my presence... but you seem to be trying...' Was it some kind of offer? Was her student truely trying to make amends? She felt a spark of hope ignite in her body, and it made her feel excited. She tried not to let it show. She didn't see any recognition in her student's eyes. She swallowed then asked, "Walk with me?"

Twilight hesitated, then looked to left at Midnight.

"I can watch Spike," Midnight offered.

Twilight turned back to look at her. "Um... okay..." was her response. She hesitated for a second, then gradually pushed herself up into a standing position. Twilight drew it out and stood up in such a timid, unsure manner, as if trying to make certain she didn't think it was an attack. But she already knew Twilight would not attack her.

"Relax, Twilight Sparkle," she comforted.

Her student hesitated, then closed her eyes. For that moment, she could see a conflict rage across her face, 'Should I trust her? Can I trust her? Is this wise?' Finally, Twilight inhaled. The conflict subsided, then her student opened her eyes and nodded. It was still a timid nod, but she stood more relaxed. Yet in that relaxed posture, she found her student still looked so vulnerable and unsure.

She felt like it was her student trying to reach out to her. Perhaps her student actually did want to be her student. Twilight was trying to make amends, just as she had tried. It was a good sign, and one she welcomed. Or maybe she was lying to herself.

"Where... are we going?" was her student's question.

And at first, she had no answer for her student's question. She wanted to spend time with Twilight, she wanted to do something with her student that would help put her at ease, comfort her, and help to grow that nascent bond they shared. Finally, an idea occurred to her, so she asked, "I would presume that you have seen the Castle's garden before, correct?"

Twilight nodded. "Yes."

"Then we can enjoy this together, can we not?" was her next question. Again, Twilight nodded. "Good." With that, she lit her horn and teleported the two of them back to Canterlot, right at the entrance to the castle's gardens.

And as the image of the garden replaced the image of Twilight's library, she found herself enjoying just looking at it and taking it in. It filled her with a sense of calm: she could enjoy this, and she would have somepony who she could enjoy it with. Somepony who would actually enjoy it with her, rather than it being an order.

She glanced at Twilight, and as usual, Twilight's body tensed. But after a moment, the tension faded. It was still there, but she was not so rigid. Her student glanced at her, then looked back at the hedges. She looked where Twilight looked, then just enjoyed the beauty of the garden. In the soft moonlight, it was so calming. She inhaled of the pleasant scent of flowers, then exhaled.

"I've... never been here in the night before," Twilight whispered, "it's... beautiful."

She smiled. Her student sounded so genuine. She turned to look at Twilight. This time, Twilight didn't tense up, but her student still had that lingering tension from before. "Indeed it is," she calmly agreed.

Her student turned and faced her, lifting her head up to look her in the eye. And as soon as Twilight realized that, she looked away. Nightmare watched, expecting Twilight to turn away, yet finding that instead, her student's eyes wandered over her chestplate, then her legs, body, and wing. Finally, her student looked away.

She looked back and studied the flowers. Perhaps she was just imagining it, or perhaps her memory of the flowers from the last time she had been here was twisted, but the flowers seemed so much more vibrant before, as if the light of her moon was envigorating them. She stared at the petals of the blue flowers, slowly letting her eyes drift over them, taking in the so pristine and untained color. 'Perhaps the night has been good for them,' she thought.

But then there were implications behind that which made no sense. If the flowers were thriving even more now, why? It would mean they were thriving so much more without the harsh light of the sun, but then why? Why would her sister have done such a thing? Or had she not known? Was she ignorant of that?

She shook the thoughts aside becuase they did not help her relax, inhaled, then stepped forward. In a calm gait, she walked beyond the entrance. Twilight fell into step beside her, and it was an almost relaxed stride. Twilight walked at her left, rather than her right side, and it left her feeling exposed for some reason. Her student was not in her proper place and, try as she did to ignore it, it stood out like an injured hoof in her mind.

But she didn't let that hamper her enjoyment of the peace they shared. As they walked towards the west, the moon hung low in the sky. If it hadn't been for the scarring of her sister, the night would have been perfect. She avoided looking at the moon as she walked on, trying to will herself to forget about it. So she focused on the flowers. The vibrant colors, reds and blues and purples, so brought out by the pale, gentle light of the moon. The sound of water trickling from fountains, and the twinkle of starlight shimmering in the water, reflecting the jeweled heavens above.

It was calm. It was peaceful. It was beautiful. And she could share it with her student.

The statue of the unicorn swept into a bow, she paused to admire it, as did her student. Whether her student stopped of her own accord, or because she had stopped, she suspected it was the latter, but did not know. Asking would have ruined the peace of the moment.

After several seconds of peaceful silence, she turned away from the statue and walked on, passing it by, going deeper into the center of the gardens. Her student lingered behind, then she sensed her walking around. And finally, Twilight came to walk at her right side. Her student was in her proper place, and it righted the wrongness she had felt before.

"I've... been here during the evening, but... it's so different at night," her student commented. "It's... nice," she offered.

And she nodded in her head in agreement. It was nice. It was a nice break from the hastle of dealing with other ponies, it was a nice break from dealing with the stupidity of other ponies. It was a nice break from the eye sores of the white and gold palace she had claimed, from the golden armor of the royal guards. It was just the two of them, and she welcomed it.

But as much as she just wanted to enjoy the peace and comfort it offered, she knew it would be wise to talk to her student, and so she said, "I spoke with delegations from the Minotaur Empire and the zebras earlier."

Twilight stopped walking for a moment, then continued; she continued without pausing. "Um... how did that go?" her student asked.

She inhaled, then hesitantly nodded. 'Not well,' was the immediate answer in her mind. "It went as well as can be expected," she answered at length. "I do not expect trouble to arise, although I am certain they will be tense. But this was not unexpected. In truth, I had anticipated more trouble, and I had anticipated more nations to send delegations sooner."

Glancing aside at her student, she found Twilight nodding timidly. She glanced back up at the moon. "Do you think the moon cycle was a mistake?" she asked.

For several seconds, they walked in silence. "I... don't know..." was her student's reluctant reply. "It-it seemed like a good idea at the time!" she defended.

She suppressed a sigh and nodded. "I concur, although in hindsight, I should have anticipated more problems," she admitted. "It may be wise to revert the moon cycle and simply leave it overhead at all times. Though I am unsure how this will impact things, and I am reluctant to do so, so soon after starting." She looked at the flowers lining the hedge to her left. The reds and blues almost seemed to blend together into a rich purple blanket, one that didn't look like a bed of flowers. It almost looked like an artist had just painted it, with one color drifting into the next. "Simply changing it on a whim is not wise."

"Uncertainty?" her student asked.

"Yes," was her answer. "It would not be good to do such a thing on a whim, because then ponies will not know what I will do, and that will cause uncertainty," she explained. "And it would be unwise to be indecisive."

A gentle breeze washed over her coat. She closed her eyes for a moment as the wind tickled her feathers and fur, slipping between her feathers. 'Perhaps I should send delegations to the zebras, minotaurs, and deer,' she mused, 'and the griffins.' She opened her eyes and pursed her lips. 'What reason do I have to not do so?' she asked.

'Expense,' was the first reason that came to mind. It was a poor excuse, and that cost would be well worth it, would it not? Better relations with those nations would be beneficial, and it would make war less likely to happen. There could also be other benefits to it that did not immediately occur to her like trade did. And that could forestall dissent and rebellion.

But then to send delegates out so soon after her return, alongside the 'rapid' militerization of Equestria, would perhaps be suspect.

But it still had its purposes. "Perhaps it is time that Equestria's isolation ends," she mused aloud. Then, she cast her gaze onto Twilight. Her student regarded her cautiously, pondering the idea. 'Why did you take such a stance to start with?' she wondered.

"It..." Twilight trailed off, winced, and offered, "Maybe..?"

'That was very helpful, Twilight, thank you.' She gave her student a flat look, then looked ahead once more. 'I will have to consider this,' she noted.

"You're um, not planning to... invade other-"

She stopped and emphatically stated, "No." Still standing there, unmoving, she turned to face her student. "I do not want war, Twilight Sparkle. Not when there are alternatives," she stated. "Not when war isn't in my best interest."

Twilight nibbled on her lip, her ears folded halfway back. Her student studied her, then her brow creased and she asked in a quiet, "What if... it's in your best interest?"

She took a moment to compose her reply, then answered, "If it is in my best interest, it is different circumstances from these. A war of conquest could be in my best interest, but I am not so naive as to rush into a war without preparations and planning. Starting a war on a whim would be stupid, Twilight Sparkle. The costs and benefits must be weighed. If, for example, it proved beneficial to annex what remained of the griffins, then I would consider it against the problems that would come from such an act. Foreign problems, internal dissent from instigating a war, and the possible griffin rebellion following their subjugation. If another nation threatens Equestria or my rule, then a preemptive strike could prove necessary," she explained. "But I have no desire to start a war on a whim. War is not something to be taken lightly. War is not something to be rushed into, but it does have its place."

Twilight's eyes unfocused for a few seconds, then she blinked. Her frown grew, and she asked, "Uh... how... would a war even work?" And it was her turn to frown in bewilderment and confusion. But before she could ask anything, Twilight said, "You're... um... You."

She raised an eyebrow and asked, "An alicorn, I presume, is what you mean?"

Twilight timidly nodded. "Yes..."

She inhaled. "I cannot be everywhere at once," was her answer. "That is why war is as such. I am but one pony. True, I can shatter armies with my magic, but it would take time and I cannot be everywhere at once."

"But... I don't understand. If you can defeat armies, why does Equestria need an army? Would it really be a war?" was her student's question. There was a pause, then she winced and turned her head back to the right before muttering in a progressively quieter voice with each spoken word, "Uh... I mean... You could... destroy empires on your own... so..."

"Ah," was her first response. "That is different, and I believe you overestimate my power," was her answer. "It would take time for me to do so, and such is the case as why I cannot be a replacement for an army. I could simply teleport to the Minotaur Empire and kill the Emporer to preempt a war, but the results would likely be unpleasant. I could simply use my magic to destroy armies, but it would be difficult, and then there is the risk that the enemy would adapt and use tactics which I could not counter. Tactics that would be far worse for average ponies. Tactics that would undermine my reign. Tactics which are not in my best interest. I am but one pony; I cannot be everywhere at once. Unless I am willing to sacrifice Equestria, which I am not, I am not a substitute for an army."

"Um... okay... C-can we... talk about something else?" was her student's question.

And she grimaced. 'Perhaps I should not have discussed this with her,' a part of her chastized. Yet, her student had asked, and she would not lie to her. Though she wanted to protect her student, she would not coddle her, either. "What would you like to discuss?" After that, she stepped forward again.

Twilight walked with her, but her gait was nervous again. She wanted to sigh, but held it back. It still didn't stop her from feeling disappointed, both in herself and in her student.

Her student had no answer for her question and stayed silent, so she offered, "I talked to Cadance about the Gala."

"Oh, um... how did that go?" Twilight asked.

"She will be overseeing it," she answered, "and I will not be attending."

She expected her student to make some comment about how attending would be beneficial to her, but instead, her student muttered, "Right..."

'And you're nervous and uncomfortable once more,' she noted. 'You're probably still thinking about that...' Glancing at her student, she was certain that it was running through her mind nonstop: she had reminded her student of her power, and inadvertantly, she knew she had reminded her student of her precarious position. Or at least, that, she knew, was what her student thought. And so it made her student nervous. The feeling of disappointment grew, almost enough to make her want to despair over her student. Twilight's ears flicked back. "Pray tell, how are your friends?" she asked.

And it occured to her that it was a stupid question. But it only occured to her after she had asked it. She already knew how her student's friends were doing; she had been listening, not intently, not to everything that was said, but she had been listening.

Twilight slowly looked up at her, then stared at her. She was certain that she had looked at Twilight the exact same way before.

She said nothing. Her student kept silent too. So she did her best to forget that ever happened. "How are your studies progressing?" she asked.

Twilight's eyes darted down to the grass, then jumped back up to her. "Um... slow," was her admission. Almost silently, her student added, "I, uh, I've... been... distracted, and... I've... struggled to... keep up..."

She didn't need to ask to know what was distracting her. "Do not worry so much about me, Twilight Sparkle. It is not good for you."

Her student stopped walking and stood there. She stopped. For a few seconds, they just stood there. Twilight's jaw drifted back and forth, then her head drifted left, then right, and her muzzle gradually drooped towards the ground, almost as if she felt guilty.

She turned around to face her student. "I am not going to hurt you," she offered preemptively. But that only made her student tense up, it made her student nervous. It didn't help her student any, despite her intentions. But why hadn't it? Was it the same as before, simply that it reminded her student of how dangerous she could be? Was there some other cause to it now?

She extended her wing, then reached out to Twilight. With a gentle touch, she brushed her feather over Twilight's cheek. Her student closed her eyes, unable to do anything else. Her student didn't stop her, nor resist her, nor anything else. She stroked that feather up along her student's cheek, then brought it up through the edge of her mane. As her feather glided over Twilight's fur, the tension in her student's body melted. Once her feather left, Twilight opened her eyes and looked back up at her. She pulled her wing back, then folded it to her side. She let the silence linger for a few seconds and simply watched her student, studying the filly. Twilight, likewise, watched her, and she felt that her student was searching for something. She could see the reflection of the white moonlight in her student's eyes, but behind that, she thought she saw guilt.

She also saw her student's vulnerability. Her eyes drifted back over Twilight's body, then she looked at her student's cutie mark. Seeing that vulnerability that was so unique to her, and knowing just how much potential she had, ate at her mind. It burned and simmered, and if she let it, it would drive her into madness.

But she was calm. She would not let madness and anger dictate her actions, at least not unless it involved her dear sister.

Eventually, Twilight's eyes drifted down to her chestplate. Her eyes jumped back onto Twilight's, but her student didn't meet her gaze. She saw her student's ears pull back. Had she not found what she wanted, or was it for some other reason?

"Come," she coaxed, then turned back around. And Twilight walked back into place at her side. Once Twilight was there, she resumed her gait, walking forward. She did her best to put distance between them and where her student's nervousnes had started. She tried to leave it behind so her student wouldn't have to be reminded of it.

But maybe there was something else she could do to get her student's mind off of the anxiety-provoking knowledge of what she was capable of. Something that was high on her list of priorities to tend to, even if so long ago she would have seen the thought as complete madness. "I believe I will be able to start teaching you properly soon," she offered.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Twilight perk right up at that. She could see a faint twinkle in her student's eyes, which all but pounced back onto her form with an eager hunger for knowledge. Her student's head nearly whipped around to face her, and she saw her student's mane fly around to the other side of her neck. "Really?" was her excited question.

She smiled, careful not to show her teeth, and inclined her head. "I would very much like to start soon," she offered.

Twilight's excitement lingered, but then, for some reason, her smile faded, and the joy burning in her eyes dulled, then dimmed. "And... I'll have to come back to... Canterlot?" was her whisper.

She looked at Twilight and saw perplexion drifting across her features. Her student was conflicted by the prospect. 'You will miss your friends...' she knew. She pursed her lips as she considered the thought, 'I could teleport to you, or teleport us back to Canterlot... then you could stay in Ponyville... your friends are good for you, and it is imperative that you maintain your friendship with them...' So she said, "You may stay in Ponyville. I can teleport when needed." Even if teleporting that much was not truly desirable, it was better than the alternatives.

There was a slight delay before the joy in her student's eyes returned, but then it did return. Her lips pulled up into a smile, then it came to a sudden stop and she blinked a few times. The joy dimmed, and then her student looked down to the ground. "Um, thank you," her student whispered.

It was genuine.

She nodded and studied the filly. 'It is in my best interest,' was what whispered in her mind. But she kept silent.

And Twilight's thanks kept replaying over and over again in her mind. 'It will be worth it,' she knew. 'We will grow closer through this.'

She walked on and let her eyes drift over more of the flowers. She looked over the blues and reds and purples, but felt like something was missing. The garden was incomplete, somehow. It was beautiful, but something was missing, leaving the experience not quite what it should have been.

'Lavender,' came to mind. It sparked a memory. Lavender, that's what was missing. The pleasant, aromatic scent. The long, budding stem with dozens of the beautiful purple buds and petals. It had been centuries since she had last smelled that scent. Did she actually remember what that scent was, or was she mistaking it as something else? No, surely she recalled lavender correctly. How could one forget such a calming, relaxing scent?

Lavender would have enriched the garden so much, but it was missing. It was clearly an oversight on part of the caretakers, or perhaps her dear sister purposefully excluded it, just to get at her that much more.

But then, maybe the garden didn't need lavender. No, there were better places for lavender. Perhaps the flowers could be planted in pots in the castle. Maybe that is what her bedchambers were missing, the scent of lavender. Perhaps then, she could truly cherish her victory over her sister. Perhaps then, her dreams would not be so haunted by her student being terrified of her.

'Your coat is lavender,' occurred to her. There was a stutter in her walk, but she recovered before it could show. Turning her head to the right to look at her student, she found that Twilight was looking away and didn't seem to have noticed her misstep. She scrutinized Twilight's coat. 'Perhaps not the same rich shade, but similar,' she noted.

Twilight wasn't paralyzed by her gaze.

Her walk slowed, and she continued watching her student. She walked along almost calmly, or perhaps she was calm, and she could not tell. Was what had been said earlier still there, running through her mind? But then if it was, how could she be so calm?

An idea occurred to her, and so she put it to the test: she dropped her gaze from Twilight's body for a moment, then immediately looked back. She barely noticed any reaction.

Twilight's head turned forward, then her student's eyes glanced aside at her and noticed her gaze. "Um, yes?"

She inhaled deeply, then turned her head back forward. Twilight turned her head to look at her but said nothing. After a few seconds, Twilight went back to looking ahead.

Her student was relaxed. She wasn't so tense, or so scared now. She almost feared what would happen if she said it, but she said it anyway, "Thank you for relaxing, Twilight Sparkle."

Her fears were realized; Twilight stumbled. She didn't fall, but her stride failed her. She slowed, then stopped and looked back at her student. Had her student not noticed that she had relaxed? And had her thanks caught her off-guard? She could see her student's timid nervousness at being called out, but she could still take comfort in it: her student did not tremble, her student did not hold herself so tense. Her student was doing better than before. And then Twilight inhaled, gave a quick, timid nod, and walked back to her side.

'I need to work on your confidence... We need to work on your magic...' she mused. But what else was there that her student needed to work on? Her confidence was lacking, and that was perhaps her largest hurdle. But, at the very least, her student was not arrogant. She took comfort in that. Her ability to defend herself was in question, and that was a problem. But, at the very least, her student knew spells that could be used to protect herself, inefficient as it was. Perhaps it was a starting place. 'You need to relax around me...'

'And perhaps I need to hold myself in check more... I keep hurting you, even thought I try not to...'

They reached the other edge of the garden. The hedges subsided, and she found herself standing there, pondering how quickly it seemed to have past while she stared at her moon. The scarring was still there, a constant blemish, a constant reminder. She felt disappointed.

Her moon, the crowning jewel of her night sky? It was blemished. It had been blemished for a thousand years because of her banishment. It would always be blemished. Her sister's banishment made sure of that. Nopony knew the true wonder that her moon was supposed to display, that it had displayed up until her banishment.

She inhaled and tried to shake it off, but it was a silly notion, being able to shake something like that off. No, it wouldn't be shaken off, just like that inferno of hatred towards her sister couldn't be quenched. It could only be forced to the back of her mind, where it simmered and gnawed on her.

She turned to look at her student, who was looking at the grassy ground under her hooves.

'Perhaps,' she thought, 'we share something more in common.'

The moon was a reminder to both of them. It was a shared disappointment. The only difference was how it was a disappointment. But even that difference wasn't all that great. After all, the source could be traced back to her sister.

"I... don't... suppose..." her student drawled, gradually lifting her head back up, "you ever plan on holding court?" Twilight looked at her. Her ears were still folded back halfway, and the pain was there. Perhaps the question was meant to distract her.

She frowned. "I do not," she answered. "I will not do such a thing and be made a mockery of," was her explanation. "Nothing good would come of that."

"Um... have you finished... reviewing laws?" was her student's next question.

She hesitated a second, then nodded. "I have. And yes, there are laws I will be revoking," she stated. Her student grimaced and turned away from her. "Laws that would get in my way as Queen," she specified.

"Laws which you're already ignoring..." was her student's drawled mutter.

"Not necessarily," she rebuked. Twilight faced her and squinted, expecting an explanation. "I do not, for the most part, Twilight Sparkle, want to tear down the laws that were created in the past thousand years. I am not so stupid as to tear down the government of Equestria to try to rebuild it from the ground up. Such a thing would be foalish. No, I will adjust things as I see fit. And I am not so foolish as to throw out laws that are beneficial just because my sister had a hoof in their creation. Equestria may have been my sister's for the past thousand years, but that does not mean it is in my best interest to destroy Equestria. We shared Equestria before my banishment, and I did not fight to protect her just so I could come back and destroy her."

Her student shivered. She doubted it was because it was cold; the air wasn't that bad. She extended her wing, hesitated, then brushed a feather along her student's back. It comforted her student, who swallowed and licked her lips before looking back up at her and asking, "Um... what now?"

"If you so wish, we could watch the moonset together, or we could walk through Canterlot. I could teleport you back to your library, or perhaps you would wish to visit Cadance and your brother," she offered.

It might have been too many options because it conflicted Twilight so much. Her student didn't know what to choose. She could see it written on her face, the way her lips relaxed into an empty line, then tensed up, almost in a grimace. The way her student's muscles tensed under her coat in anxiety.

'Why did you do this to her? Why did you cripple her like this?' shot out in her mind in response. She clenched her jaw. Why had her dear sister left Twilight in such a state? So indecisive, so naive, so weak? Twilight had so much potential, and seeing it waste away in such a manner made her want to scream. It also made her want to groan, to just give up in defeat.

Maybe that was her sister's entire plan.

But she wouldn't just give up. Maybe her indecision also presented an opportunity. 'Let her choose, so that you will be more sure of herself,' occurred to her. She studied Twilight's expression, then her gaze glided over her student's body. Looking over her back, then drifting to her cutie mark.

The bearer of the Element of Magic, born to such a great destiny, so much potential, yet so distraught, so crippled, by being presented with but a hoofful of options. Her student still felt so incomplete. Incomplete when she saw that indecision, incomplete when she reached out with her magic.

Something was still missing, but what?

"Um..." Twilight whispered. She looked back to see Twilight looking at her. "I... wouldn't mind walking through Canterlot, if you want," was her drawled offer.

It had to have been some kind of attempt to patch their relationship. Surely, it had to be. There was nothing else it could be. Her student, finally chosing to spend time with her. And it wasn't for her student's studies, but something to enjoy. Something for them to share together, like this walk through the garden. Maybe her patience was paying off. It gave her a sense of ecstatic glee, it made her heart beat faster. She smiled.

She didn't catch herself before her lips parted, and Twilight's gaze jumped to her teeth. Her student tensed up, but then blinked, shifted her weight, and looked back up to meet her eyes. She closed her lips, but the damage was done. And she regretted it. But her student didn't seem to linger on it too much, and so the expected disappointment didn't weigh her down.

Still, she extended her wing and brushed a feather along Twilight's back. "Do not worry so much, Twilight Sparkle. You need to be more confident," she offered.

Twilight nodded reluctantly and said, "Sorry."

"We will work on it," she replied. After all, it would not do for her student to be perceived as weak. No, she would not have her student perceived as weak. Twilight Sparkle was, after all her student.

Twilight gave a hesitant nod.

'Perhaps being obsessed with you is not such a bad thing...'

Author's Note:

Writing diplomacy? Not... exactly... my strong suit... I do understand politics (at least to a degree, I really enjoyed the courses on politics that I've taken) but ah, I probably didn't think through this part enough. I've focused mostly on Nightmare and Twilight, and significantly less on the motives and such driving factors of other nations.

Especially the zebras. But then, they're fairly isolated, so perhaps it makes sense.

There are parts of this chapter I'm not entirely happy with.

Alternate chapter title: Obsession.

Comments

[Vaguely Demented]

Have to wonder what Celestia would think if she knew all that was going on with Twilight.

[prism heart]

I hope Twi and Nightmare start to get along better, it's cute how Nightmare keeps denying how fond of Twilight she is.

[Sir Budginton]

It's kind of weird to think that before WW1 most big wars never directly affected the population while it was happening. Maybe if territory changed and you ended up on the other side of the border after the war, then yes, but for the most part wars wouldn't affect you in your medieval village. And front lines weren't really a thing either until pretty much the late 1800s. It's only once two large, industrialised nations went against each other that this started happening.

We know Equestria is industrialised, the big skyscrapers of Manehatten won't be built by a non-industrialised nation, but how many of Equestria's neighbors are industrialised? The griffins are still just a ramshackle (what a fun word to say) 'nation', if you could even call it that. NMM could just go to each village one at a time a torch them, and they wouldn't be able to put up an organised resistance like a proper nation could.

As for the zebra and minatour, well, we don't really know. From the looks of it, they might be able to, but unless we get more details it will be kind of hard to say.

Random fact: during both world wars, the major nations that fought spent ~50% of their GDP on the military. I'm just trying to imagine that now, and all I can see happening is the country collapsing. And yet, the UK, Germany, etc, kept this up for years. Sure, their economies were completely ruined afterward, but they didn't collapse. (well, Germany did, but that's a different matter).

[Princess Lulu]

Well, it seems as if the relationship between Twilight and the Queen is ever so slowly getting better. And even if Twilight doesn't know, at least we know that she won't be getting tortured by the Queen. Well, not purposefully that is.

[GoldenLeafs]

I like the premise of this story a lot. But I have noticed something quite quickly.

Repetitive dialogue. By which I mean, Nightmare is constantly talking about Twilight's confidence and her incompleteness. It has been mentioned in every chapter. I feel like we are going in circles. Perhaps moving the story on is in order. I don't know what else would help.

[SC_Orion]

9515071
I admit this is something I struggle with. I feel like, to an extent, I have some form of obsessive compulsive disorder when it comes to writing. I feel like you can't really build a character or a part of the story as having it well established without it showing up multiple times.

I say this based on how if you have something happen just once, it's not necessarily established. For example, you could have somepony react a certain way, but just having it happen one time does not necessarily mean it's part of the character or part of the world. I'm trying to think of a good example, but I'm struggling. I feel like if something doesn't happen or isn't mentioned more than once it doesn't really stick. I'm struggling to convey what I mean here. A simplified example would be, having a character act nice once doesn't really show that their character is nice because that's just the one time. If it happens consistently, then you're shown that the character is nice and that it's a part of who they are because you have context and history. Maybe I'm overthinking it.

Although this does seem to be something I've struggled with to a great extent in this story.

Do you have any advice?

[GoldenLeafs]

9516652
I think just moving onto the confidence building and working on teaching her spells will progress it a bit. That's kinda why I mentioned moving on in general. Only thing off hand I can think of.

[FireAlphaWolf]

They were nightmares. But shen she dreamed of her and her student not having that mistrust and distance between them,

"But shen she" should be when instead of shen

[SC_Orion]

10223302
Fixed, thanks.

[Redrover17602]

9511352
Before Napoleon wars were even less damaging. Crazy.

[goranxii]

9511352
10645257
Uh, read some history guys. The 30 Years war resulted in millions of civilian deaths. It took the Holy Roman Empire a century to recover. That's not to mention the various Christian, Muslim or Mongolian conquests. Plus, even if you lived, things were often pretty grim.

[M4Tiger4014]

9511352
Not to be rude, but this has got to be one of the most moronic takes I’ve ever seen. War had a massive impact on the general populous. Your taxes went up. At least a few people from your village may be conscripted to fight, which means you’ll be having labor shortages. This doesn’t even get into areas that have to support, i.e. feed, those armies, and who usually suffer the worst.