• Published 7th Apr 2019
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Moondust - Parallel Black



Four weeks have passed since Nightmare Moon's defeat, and Twilight is still in Canterlot...

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11 - Idolatry

Each breath she took felt like another heartbeat lost to the cold night air. The bridge felt solid beneath her, yet as each hoof rose Twilight wondered if it would meet stabbing metal or the raging water cascading through the ravine.

Rainbow Dash was ok. She was dazed and confused, but that smile had been stuck on her face from the moment after she’d done… whatever it was she’d done. Applejack was carrying her, the flyer’s injuries now covered up by a collection of solid gold wraps. Twilight glanced between them and the others. Rarity, predictably, had her eyes on the glimmer of the golden ropes holding the new bridge up, while Pinkie happily boinked between her and Fluttershy, ever ignoring the seriousness of the situation, or perhaps simply denying it.

Everyone looked a little too ok with this. Peace had just tried to kill one of them, and had threatened to “erase” them should they cross, so why was she letting them through…?

Twilight felt something press against the front of her hoof and foresaw the entire limb falling into the rushing darkness below. Her heart leapt into her throat and her pupils dilated, but all she’d felt was an outcropping of hardened dirt on the other side of the ravine. With another moment’s hesitation, she placed the hoof down, back on solid ground. Peace stood before her now, tall, pale and terrifying, two great ropes of her endless mane framing her alien shape as she held the makeshift bridge in place.

This would have been the perfect moment for her to kill them all in one fell swoop. Twilight stood between the two ropes, almost preparing herself for some kind of horrific fate, but none came. The others arrived and the lengths of gold went slack, the rope bridge collapsing for a second time, with all but Rainbow Dash no worse for wear.

“I didn’t think you could move that fast,” Peace commented in her oddly common tone. She sounded more like a tired teenager than a battle-hardened warrior, the words possessing an ever so slight drawl, as if her tongue was numb from lack of use.

“Of course I can,” Rainbow replied, her smile growing to a grin. “I’m the fastest pony in Equestria!”

Peace said nothing, merely staring at her with a pair of bright, golden eyes before she turned away. With her locks flowing behind, she walked to the gap in the trees that led to the decrepit castle further into the darkness, the group of ponies pausing for a few moments before following. The end of the landbridge lay somewhere in the trees a few miles beyond it, its pale bulk curving across the sky before winding into space, as still as if it had always been there.

Applejack took the lead, Rainbow Dash’s dangling hooves bobbing with each step. “Excuse me, Miss ‘Peace’,” she began. “Maybe ah shouldn’t ask, but… why’d you let us go?”

Just beyond the trees was an old, grey arch, which the tall mare leaned against, folding her beastly arms. “Are the rest of you as strong as the colour one?” she asked.

There came a pause. They weren’t meant to be here, to have gotten this far. Unlike whatever demi-god had spawned Rainbow Dash, and perhaps with the exception of Twilight’s magical might, the other four were nothing more than mortal mares, beloved relatives who were perhaps only years away from having kids of their own, with dreams to aspire to and everyday jobs to be getting on with. This place wasn’t for them. They couldn’t beat Nightmare Moon.

Yet Applejack took another step forward, bearing a worried pair of eyes to go with her hopeful smile, and responded, “Well, ah sure as hay can’t fly, but ah sure can tie a mean rope when it comes to catchin’ varmints and no-gooders! Er, no offense.”

Again, the tall mare stared, but this time a tiny smile graced the edges of her lips.

“Hoooe…” she breathed. “You’re all going to die.”

----

Nearly there. The singing faded as they made it out of the crowd, the last few annoyed glares turning back to the source of their comfort. Moondancer’s chest floated free once again, and Spike hummed a little tune as they went, vaguely following the rise and fall of Sunflare’s bride, though with a lot less nuance.

Twilight stared at the marblework as she trotted, the sight of those ribbons sticking in her mind. A flash of horror passed through her when she saw them, as if the lengths of gold really did have a life of their own, ready to turn as solid as steel to outpace the Unscheduled Night’s death toll with a single motion.

“Twilight?” came Moondancer’s voice.

“Hm? What?”

“What’s with the look?”

“What look?” Twilight rubbed an eye and realised she was scowling to herself. “Egh, sorry, I think I’m just tired or something.” She glanced back, the dancers now just a bundle of moving shapes amidst the multicoloured crowd. “I really can’t handle so many ponies at once.”

Moondancer raised an eyebrow and smirked. “We could’ve just gone over the grassy area if it was that bad.”

“Sorry.”

Moondancer’s lips moved to absolve her of any blame, but she hesitated. “Are you… sure you’re ok? You look like something’s freaked you out.”

Is it that obvious? Twilight thought with a small hint of panic. Peace was gone, or at least she hadn’t been seen since that fateful night. Why would she show up now? They were just ribbons, she told herself. Of course they were, but the worry was still rampaging through her thoughts. The last thing she’d seen of the tall mare had been that look of grief and rage warping her smooth face into something scarier than a crazed dragon, before the landbridge flattened the old castle and everyone inside.

Celestia had made it out with Luna in tow. Who was to say the others couldn’t escape as well?

“Sorry,” Twilight repeated. “I just got reminded of Nightmare Moon and… everything.”

“Right. It’s just you were looking kind of weird before, as well. I figured you had something on your mind.”

As the group fled the castle, Rainbow Dash’s golden bandages had turned against her, writhing and sharpening against her skin as Peace’s fury reached them. The pegasus had ended up in the emergency room after that. She really should have sent another letter, just to make sure she was ok. Maybe the first had been lost in the mail and the others thought she didn’t even care?

A little vacation might not be a bad idea after all. With Rainbow Dash’s wellbeing in mind, leaving Canterlot to its own problems suddenly felt like a legitimate choice.

“Which is precisely why getting some sunshine was such a good idea!” Spike exclaimed, looking proud of himself.

“It’s… definitely helped in some ways,” Twilight admitted, leaving out all of the new questions and worries she’d gained today. “I think I’ll brush up on religious literature when we get back. I think there’s still a few details and practices and things that I don’t know about yet.”

“But you won’t take four weeks this time, right?”

She chuckled. “Of course not. I can multitask while helping out with the clean-up, and then we’ll take a break in Ponyville.”

Spike let out a “Yippee!”, throwing his little arms into the air in victory.

Well, that settled it; she couldn’t back out of a promise like this one. The weeks it would take to sort out their local area switched to mere days on Twilight’s mental schedule. That would give them enough time to make a dent in the mess, followed by a day or two in Ponyville, and then the rest. After that, maybe they could make the visit a regular thing? It would be an interesting change of pace, and it would give Twilight access to an entirely different culture compared to Canterlot. What kinds of books did a Ponyvillian keep on their shelves? What were the local histories and tales? Did they use cookbooks and spellbooks there, or was it all a humble process of word-of-mouth teaching?

Twilight smiled as Spike returned to his humming. They had reached the middle of the long plaza now, but before they turned for the exit road, she looked back to the gardens to remind herself once more of the market town’s abundant greenery. Here, every tree and bush was trimmed to perfection and the flowers had been carefully arranged into beautiful beds. In Ponyville, it seemed almost as if the houses had grown up alongside the trees and the grass, with climbing roses and patches of moss decorating their frames and more plants springing up to fill the gaps between the haphazardly planned dirt roads of yore.

They turned, but Twilight found her smile fading and her legs slowing to a stop. She didn’t know why, but her alarm bells were going off all of a sudden. She looked again. This time, the lines of trees focused her gaze to the pond at the end of the path, and to the glinting of the sun and moonlight against the water.

Like some betentacled creature, the reflection moved as a mare bearing a reflective, metallic mane moved out of sight.

“Twilight?” came Spike’s worried voice, immediately recognising that something was wrong.

“What? What now?” came Moondancer’s, starting to sound far less patient.

“Yellow ribbons,” Twilight responded, absently. “That’s all I saw.”

Moondancer stared at her like she was insane.

“I’m sorry. Can we… stay a little longer? I just wanna see the other performance.”

The stare remained. Moondancer knew something was up. Nonetheless, she gave an annoyed sigh and repositioned her chest. “We’re… not going in, right?”

“Oh, no, of course not.”

“Then fine, but I’m charging double for the religious books now. Don’t want you getting any weird ideas.”

She just needed to make sure she wasn’t going crazy with worry. The mind could play annoying tricks on ponies like Twilight, who lost sleep, forewent meals, and filled their heads with terrifying thought train-wrecks concerning the fate of the world. She just needed to make sure it was all in her head, or else…

With the Sun tilting toward the horizon, the shadow of the Octenic Hall’s spires stretched almost to the mountain wall, piercing across the rooftops like a set of petrified tendrils. Like Sunflare’s ink pot, Sleipnir possessed an iconic heirogram in the form of the anvil. He was said to have forged the world from fire and rock, beating the continents into place with eight giant hammers before breathing life into the planet’s molten core. The anvil before the hall stood upon a large, raised platform to spread its weight. It was black with an ever so slight greenish tinge, and it had not a scratch across its surface; a sign that it was octite through and through. Celestia knows how they’d managed to lift it into place.

Atop it stood a pair of ponies: one clad in black armour, the groom; and one in a white wedding dress with an elaborate red circlet, the bride, serving as the messengers of their respective gods. From what she had read, Octenism and Ungulism had been united for as long as there was history to tell, one celebrating strength, responsibility and industriousness, while the other celebrated empathy, cooperation and the creative arts.

The groom banged his hoof against the horn of the anvil and an odd sound rang through the air. It was almost like the clong of a giant bell, but deeper and slower, reverberating as it travelled and throwing her thoughts off course. Twilight felt her ears flick and she found herself focusing on the anvil like the rest of the crowd, as if it had called to her. The gentle chatter of the faithful went silent, giving the two ponies at the center their moment to speak.

“My dear Equestrians,” came a voice like an army of thundering hooves, sending a jolt of alarm through the crowd. “We bring news of the Mare of the Night!” The groom banged the anvil again and Twilight felt her legs locking in place, a foreign sense of curiosity taking hold.

The sound reminded her of an odd foalhood memory, of Star Chasm and his collection of octite trinkets. They had been musical instruments of some kind or another, based on ancient designs. She remembered the uncomfortable sensation in her head as the old stallion tapped each one, testing her rhythm.

“The cloth lifts from my eyes~” sang the beautiful tones of the mare by his side, enrapturing everyone within earshot. “The Princess’ sibling is in need of your help! For seven nights she has been trapped between this world and the next, forced to appear to us in dreams but never in flesh.”

“She descended from the heavens as a minion of Rion, but now fights in ailing health against him!”

“Your Majesty defends her with all her strength, but it is not enough!”

“Give your prayers and your hopes, that she might return to us!”

The bride and groom stood side by side and lowered their heads with eyes closed tight. They each raised a foreleg with the hoof held close to their chests, left for the bride and right for the groom. Those who weren’t sat did so, mares and stallions, fillies and colts, all raising their forelegs in kind. In a matter of moments the plaza descended into complete silence. Twilight felt like she’d stumbled into some secret club where she was expected to know what to do. She’d only been to one of these mass prayer events in her life and it had bewildered her just as much as it did now.

“Are you sure you’re ok? Can we get out of here yet?” asked a worried Moondancer.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got… distracted by the sound.”

The concern grew into horror. “For real…?”

Twilight’s brow furrowed and she shook her head. It was called Sleipnir’s Bray; a metallic call meant to identify those who aligned themselves with his service. It wasn’t really a sound, per say, nor was it something that spoke to one’s subconscious. The bray went deeper, supposedly predicting or revealing one’s affinity toward the eight-legged god, as if tapping into destiny itself. For the most devoted it had been described as “more comforting than the smile of one’s mother and more intoxicating than the approval of one’s father”, and the most horrifying sensation imaginable for Sleipnir’s enemies.

“It never worked when I was younger,” Twilight said, grimacing as she recalled her parents and elders all sitting in line without her, their hooves raised in prayer. An anger boiled up in her throat. “My great-grandstallion called me ‘unfit’ and told me to worship Sunflare instead.”

Spike’s grip tightened for a moment. She looked at him to see a pair of worried green eyes staring back.

“Sorry, ignore me. Just some bad memories," she reassured him.

A word from deep within the crowd met her ears, close to the center. Heads turned to the young stallion who had spoken and the beginnings of disgruntled murmurs soon followed. “Why?” he repeated, slightly more confidently this time. “Why are we praying for Nightmare Moon?”

The murmurs turned into hushed, angry complaints, though a few less reactive voices were mixed in. “H-how do we know she i’nt tryin’ to trick you?” came another, this time from an older gent with a gabbering jaw. The sound of his cracked, awkward tongue broke straight through whatever remained of the second bray. “She couldn’t win wit’ f-force, so now she’s invading our m-minds and s-stealing kids in t’ night!”

The bride opened her eyes and directed a heavenly smile at him, more than worthy of a motherly figure like Sunflare. “You need not fear, my children~ The beast is dead, slain by an unknown heroine to end the Unscheduled Night!”

Oh god no, Twilight thought. She almost ducked where she stood. No one knew who she was, and hopefully it would stay that way. The last thing she needed amongst everything else was to be idolised as some kind of heroic murderer. Please just let me fade into the background so I can live my life.

“What remains is not the vile creature who stole the Sun from us,” said the groom, the tone in his voice clearly meant to mimic his god’s commanding call. “She is known as Luna; the night to our Princess’ day, here to restore balance to our decaying ways and our virtue-starved youth!”

“What a load of bullshit,” said Moondancer with a scowl, thankfully out of earshot of most of the crowd. “Equestria was doing just fine before she arrived.”

Twilight couldn’t deny that, and it seemed a portion of the gathering agreed. Ponies weren’t fond of change, let alone when that change tried to kill them first.

“I for one would rather pray for our Princess!” spoke a haughtier voice. “Equestria only needs one alicorn!”

“Didn’t Luna try to steal the Moon from her sister? Isn’t that how the story goes?” came another.

The murmurs continued, but died back down when the couple retook their praying stance. Twilight hoped with all her heart that Luna was ok, if only for Celestia’s peace of mind, but regardless of how quickly the younger alicorn healed it would be a long time before anypony decided to accept her after what she’d done as Nightmare Moon. The interesting part over with, they turned back to the exit road.

“She was betrayed.”

The alarm bells screamed back to life. That voice hadn’t come from the crowd, and while it bore no enchantment it stole Twilight’s attention far more than the bray ever could. It was indistinct, just the voice of a normal mare, and it had only been three words… yet it sounded far too familiar to ignore. Her ears turned first, followed by her nose, the rest of her body still locked to the road ahead as her trotting slowed to a stop.

“Pick up the pace, Twilight,” said Moondancer. “I don’t wanna be stuck here with all the crazy ponies when they start disagreeing with each other.”

Her eyes finally followed. The path leading to the pond was empty. “S-sorry. I’m coming.”

“She was betrayed,” the voice repeated, angrier this time, more than willing to speak over the silence that pervaded this end of the plaza.

The aura around Twilight’s horn throbbed and another horrid chill ran down her spine, and this time that little spot between her shoulders did nothing to fix it. The ribbons came first, emerging from the foliage, followed by an equine face and hooves, the front pair wreathed in golden socks to hide whatever was underneath. A set of unfamiliar blue eyes focused on the bride and groom. For a moment Twilight thought she’d been fooling herself after all, but the giant arrangement of golden loops and ties that framed the mare’s head possessed an unmistakable metallic quality, and the fierce scowl creased her soft face with the same level of fury as it had that fateful night.

Twilight watched, frozen in place, as Peace stepped into the open and pushed her way into the crowd, her tailless dock and her markless rump soon disappearing amongst them, apparently unaware of the unicorn’s presence. Twilight could leave now and keep it that way. She could head to Moondancer’s home and spend the rest of the day and night there, reading and talking and just… being together for a change, for the last chance they would have.

She could leave Peace to her own devices, letting her storm into the midst of this crowd to blow her top and kill everyone for insulting her queen.

Her horn lit up and she levitated Spike onto Moondancer’s chest. “Huh? What’re you doing?”

“I’m sorry, go on ahead, I’ll… I’ve gotta… I’ve gotta do something.” With that, she charged into the crowd, her eyes following the decorative golden loops of mane ahead of her.

“Wait, what now?!” Moondancer exclaimed in her wake. “Come back, you- you said you weren’t going in! This is not worth our time, Twilight!!”

It was, far more than either of her friends realised. Twilight again recalled the look on Peace’s face moments before Celestia teleported their little band of heroes out of the castle, that gruesome mixture of anger and sadness; a look of betrayal, as if she’d let their little group through under the silent promise that they lay down their lives or their loyalty for her queen. The Twilight she’d been back then only smiled in response as the magic flowed through her body, confused by Peace’s reaction, and eager to take her on as well should she decide to take revenge. She was Nightmare Moon’s ally, after all.

That wasn’t what she was running into the crowd for. Today she would apologise for her behaviour, for taking away someone so dear to the alien mare, to, hopefully, reassure her that everything would be ok, that Celestia would return with Peace’s weakened queen in tow. Saying sorry was the only option now, because now that she knew the tall mare was alive, she had to make peace with her demons.

The golden mane vanished amongst the crowd, but the frowns and confused mutters of the disturbed faithful led Twilight onward.

“Celestia stole the Moon from her,” came Peace’s voice from somewhere ahead. Even under a different skin her voice still held that dull, monotone laziness, even as it bristled with anger. “She stole her home, so Nightmare came broken to build a new one instead. She ruled and she turned the grey wastes into the most powerful empire anyone ever saw!”

The murmurings returned, now with an air of shock and suspicion over the sudden appearance of this apparent cultist. Atop the anvil, the groom opened an eye to look upon the one who had spoken.

“And now she’s broken again, like a cycle,” Peace continued. Her voice was already starting to sound tired, though no less determined. “She isn’t here to balance. She is here to rule.”

“My child, of what do you speak?” asked the bride, sounding genuinely concerned. “Have you lost all faith in the Equestrian spirit? The beast’s attack was a true terror to behold, but by the grace of Sunflare we were spared.”

“Rion struck our home a mighty blow,” the groom added, “but he is a coward. Now comes our counter-attack, to show that we will not be cowed by such a mindless show of force!”

“Come now, raise your hoof with us~ Trust in a bright future. One that will never be overshadowed again!”

A few moments of silence passed before Peace spoke once more, “I don’t understand what you’re doing.”

Oh no, Twilight thought. The words repeated in her head to an image of the golden-maned mare’s face. “I don’t understand,” said the memory. It was that aggravated bewilderment that had preceded Peace’s growing frustration over Rainbow’s continued attempts. She could almost see her face now, staring up at the bride and groom, a confused frown crushing her otherwise graceful features into an ugly mess, and the lengths of her mane starting to shift.

“She isn’t a beast. She’s beautiful and you don’t understand.”

That tiny, charred shape came to mind again. Maybe this was a mistake? Maybe seeing her would be what set her off? Twilight knew she wouldn’t want to see the face of the pony who killed someone she cared for, otherwise…

“If you speak of Luna, then yes. The seers tell us her mane sparkles like the stars in the sky, and that her eyes glow like the light of the full Moon. Whatever dark creature preceded her, however, is well and truly slain.”

She slowed, the tallest loops just visible above the crowd. No matter how much she tried to distract herself and forget, she’d spent every night since then worrying and regretting everything. The warning signs had been there; the enjoyment she’d felt on the way through the Everfree, the excitement of the adventure, the ungodly power rushing through her mind…

Twilight recalled that sensation of weightlessness as a golden tiara topped by a mimicry of her own cutie mark phased out of her body, as if it had been trapped in there all along. Some part of her, some deep, dark, horrible part of her had received confirmation that night, that she was more than just special: she was absolutely incredible. Every single moment had felt good. If only for that, she had to apologise. That hadn’t been her.

She was still walking to her death, but she couldn’t let this lie. She couldn’t sleep knowing she could have set things right, that she could have proven to herself that she wasn’t a power-mad freak of a mare.

“You idiot. She is alive,” Peace retorted, her flat tone gaining a harsh tilt. “She can’t be killed by what you’re doing to her.”

“My dear child, we are not harming her, we are praying for her recovery just as you do!” Twilight saw the bride reaching down again with a hopeful look on her face, unaware of what the mare she was speaking to was capable of. “Please, join us. There is nothing to be gained dwelling on past misfortunes. You must have faith in Equestria and in the Starlit Union.”

Almost there. “Are you talking about a god?”

That took the bride aback somewhat, her husband’s praying hoof wavering slightly in silent surprise. How anypony could be so ignorant about Sleipnir and Sunflare must have been an alien concept to them, let alone when said ignorant person was right in the middle of a huge congregation of followers.

“Yes,” the bride responded, for the first time speaking out of turn. “Sunflare is the Mother of All Ungulates; she is the one who gave thoughts and feelings to all the creatures of the world, who created colour and magic and majesty.”

“Just as we are husband and wife,” the groom added, “Sunflare wed Sleipnir to create the world upon which we stand. For that, we are eternally grateful, and we must do all in our gifted will and imagination to continue the legacy they left for us!” With that, he resumed his stance with renewed vigor.

Twilight pushed through the final ring of ponies and stopped dead in her tracks. She saw herself skidding to a halt at the edge of the cliff, watching as the rope bridge fell, its latter half reduced to splinters by a whirlwind of golden blades, before she and the others saw the indomitable creature that had done it.

“So they’re dead?” Peace asked in her plain, slurred tone.

“Peace…?”

The mare’s ears reacted first, before she looked behind her and froze. Her blue eyes grew thin and terrified as she saw her Queen be torn asunder all over again.

So this was what victory looked like; to see an opponent beaten so low that she thought of her adversary as some kind of monster. Twilight could understand it. She and the others had been mortal mares when they entered that castle, and then something had happened, and they became… something else. What came next had become nothing more than a blur of emotion and power.

She braced herself to say the words, got her tongue in place, hesitated as she wondered what Peace’s arms looked like now, and missed her chance.

The octite clanged again, flushing Twilight’s train of thought out of her head and forcing her ears to listen. A far more confident voice than hers overcame them. The groom, who had abandoned the praying pose he’d maintained throughout all these questions, loomed over them, his pitch-black hair causing his silver-grey eyes to stand out, piercing through the gaze of anyone they met. “Dead?” he asked, his authoritative tone gaining a hint of offense as he glared at Peace. “To what gods do you subscribe, if not the ones to whom you owe your world and your life and your mind? They are not dead; they are among us in every stallion and mare who chooses to make something of themselves, to do something with the special talent granted to them from above!”

“Be quiet.”

This was no good. She wasn’t engaging with any of this, let alone now that the groom was stood over them trying his best to put his hoof down. What was she even meant to say? The subtle hints of the groom’s bray faded, but still nothing came to mind. The look on the disguised mare’s face was starting to darken, fear giving way to anger. “Peace,” Twilight managed. “I wanted to… apologise.”

Peace didn’t respond, only staring with her strange, glassy eyes. Twilight blinked, then frowned as she watched one of those gold lengths slide back into place behind the other mare’s head. It suddenly seemed brighter around them, like a cloud had moved out of the way of the Sun.

“Dear?” came the bride’s voice.

From all the way at the edge of the crowd, a clattering thud met their ears.

Twilight glanced up at where the groom should have been. Those watching the scene unfold noticed too. Words of confusion quickly grew to yells of distress, to a wave of terror flowing from the center of the crowd as everyone realised what had just happened. Panic descended and they rose all at once, the silence turning to clamour and their praying hooves turning into a stampede. Twilight held close to the side of the anvil as the other ponies rushed by. She made to protest, but the words died on her tongue as Peace affixed her with a deathly glare.

“If you want to fix your mistake, then finish what you started by killing me,” Peace challenged, the cold yellow of her pupils shining through the blue of her disguise. “This time without your allies or your ‘prayer’.”

A single blade opened a shallow wound in Twilight’s cheek, and with that, Peace vanished into the crush.