Chapter 43 - Order (Retitled)
"You!"
Light Flow's eyes filled with the painful picture of burning as a solid mass of fire leapt through the air toward him like a vengeful spirit. Every emotion other than panic burned to dust in the approaching inferno, and- as though his body had lost its own will- some primal desire to survive took control of him. A frenzy of energy that overrode his ever-tired muscles, and threw him low to the floor in a pathetic, but safe crouch.
His ears- even as he threw his hooves over to protect them- bore the burnt of the deafening shout of the crackling fire that he could feel on the very tips of the scruff of his neck. The room above him became so hot for that single second of desperate cowering, the shaky breaths he had been focusing on controlling turned to dust in his throat.
The air half-caught in his lungs came out as a wheeze that slowly bled into a dry, hacking cough, though his desperate mind was struggling to label the cause as the shifting temperature or the general aridity of his throat.
Of all the things he'd expected, this was not one of them.
Fear and sense alike turned to spinning delirium as time seemed to stretch infinitely longer, and he began to wonder whether it would ever end. Maybe this was just the world now; an endless expanse of heat like the torturous depths of Tartarus come alive. Maybe he was in Tartarus. Maybe Nightmare Moon had killed him.
He really did think that for a long, listless moment. A lost, empty moment of cold amidst the heat; of certainty that he had died, and gone to the underworld. Even as the crackling sounds of fire dying its own death in the air crept on his ears, and his unburned and untouched coat began to cool in flame's absence, and sense crept on quiet hooves back to the hollowed crevasse where hysteria had tunneled: the thought wouldn't go away.
But deep down, he knew he hadn't died, and he hadn't gone anywhere. He wasn't in a volcano, nor the pits of Tartarus: but the ruined throne room of the mad moon queen who'd just breathed fire.
So why did he still feel so gone?
Well, the warmth was gone, at least; and he was as physically unchanged as he ever was. He hadn't burned to death; denied answers as they came within hooves' reach, so that, at least, was good. He didn't know how the afterlife worked, but it was easy to imagine his wouldn't have been so peaceful, considering.
Nerves calming down, and tentatively, ever so tentatively: he peeked one cautious eye open to check the state of the scene. He half-expected the room to be destroyed or generally burning down or something, but everything looked relatively unscathed. At first glance, anyway. He couldn't exactly see the back of the room pressed to the floor as he was. Maybe it was just an illusion, and it would all blur away into lava pits and swinging chains.
No, still just Nightmare Moon. Smiling and not going away. How unfortunate; he might've taken the fabled Cerberus instead. They might be a less tense conversationalist.
He would've liked to just get up right then to probably yell something about manners and abuse, but it seemed the spectacle hadn't quite ended yet. While the fire had all but completely died out, the calm, contented smile that stared down at him still idly leaked small wisps of colored flame. Like a boiling pot, or something.
But not for very long: as- to his undeniable shock- when She caught him looking: Nightmare Moon made a very clear showing of tilting Her head back the barest inch, and audibly swallowing.
Fire lacked volume, so there wasn't as anything outrageous as any kind of bulge to Her mostly covered throat; but he could swear- if he wasn't beginning to hallucinate again- that he saw the barest glow running behind those taut muscles, disappearing behind the silver metal of Her segmented neck armor.
A full body chill raced like electricity down his spine, to arc with jolting nips onto the swept hairs of his tail from his dock. The sensation was so powerfully off-putting that he couldn't even force his eyes to stay open, though he sort of welcomed the comforting darkness for that one, safe moment. Like pretending he wasn't there, and he hadn't just seen what he had.
What kind of moon Goddess ate fire?! Shouldn't that have been Her sister's schtick?!
While approximately half of his mind wanted to continue cowering and hoping that everything terrifying and terrible would eventually just go away, the other half knew that was stupid. He had to get up and think and talk about all the things that had just happened eventually.
No matter how comfy the floor was.
So it was with shaking hooves that really didn't want to follow orders that he physically and mentally gathered himself, and began to heave up into a standing position. It was a given that his legs felt weak with the weight of events; after all, it was no secret that his constitution was extremely lacking.
As was his resolve, apparently; given the way he'd hit the deck like a whimpering child. Not the most impressive showing; but Nightmare Moon wasn't saying anything about it, so he wouldn't either.
"Some kind of heartburn, huh?" He wasn't quite sure why the first thing out of his ragged throat was a joke, but there wasn't much taking it back. He closed his eyes, and swallowed what little moisture he could manage. The itch that greeted the action brought his eyes open again, and he raised his head to match Hers.
The world spun just a bit, but it was stabilizing. Slowly. Oh, Nightmare Moon was smiling at his joke, how nice. He was glad he could still be funny while at the whim of Her torturous actions. Torment the clown.
What a smile. Sharp. A chuckle, too. Sharp. "Oh, you have no idea. There is really only so much magic can do when your stomach is not made of stone." Her eyes closed as Her chuckle bled into a hum, and Her upright shoulders relaxed as She seemed to simply luxuriate in the joke.
He didn't think it was that funny. Maybe a five, on the joke scale; though that was a little abstract. Pinkie Pie might have developed a joke scale: maybe he could ask her?
Maybe he was going insane.
"Oh, to be as fortunate as those the Dragonkind. Like Gods in their own right, as select heretics across the years have so bravely preached." Her draconically slashed pupils opened to rest on him as Her dragon-like fangs curled in a smile. "I've always wondered from where the comparison sprung?"
Sense was beginning to return in the absence of fear and heat, and he was able to comfortably manage a dry stare back. "You're the picture of humility; now would you mind explaining?" he rasped, as his face twisted further and further with disgust the more he heard the gravel in his voice.
Where had all his saliva went? He sounded like a smoker.
Oh, maybe he should take up smoking? Supposedly took the edge off, and wow was he just full of edge.
Well, for the moment, he was going focus on trawling his mouth for voice-saving moisture. A background activity that half filled his ears with swishing as Nightmare Moon's eyebrows raised to a pleased hum. "Oh? An open-ended proffer to explain?" Her closed smile split into a smugly satisfied grin, and his moving saliva turned cold as his stomach plummeted. "Why, I could take this chance to tell you of anything! The mind nearly boggles at the possibilities."
Her hoof came to Her chin as She closed Her eyes and nodded, humming consideringly. "Yes... Yes, I believe I might have an interesting tidbit on those of the southern wastes: the Palominoans. What comparatively little I personally experienced of their history I have- of course- supplemented with rigorous study of their culture. They were particularly known for their especially grand structures in a time where such luxuries were typically-"
"That is not what I meant." The firm line of his voice still carried a hint of a rasp in it, but the force behind it was still clear enough to stop the lecture in its infancy. He stared up with hard eyes as Nightmare Moon's mouth caught half-closed, and the slits of Her eyes slid open as Her hoof fell to the floor.
It was a quiet wake for a moment, though he would never admit his certain glare was just a sweaty façade. It was a fair bet that his strength would give out any second now, and he would fold like a half-built house of cards.
He just... didn't want to deal with the mockery and the badgering right now. His mind was too abuzz with questions and tentatively linking answers to just let Her fill space with meaningless history on a culture he'd only barely heard of.
Nightmare Moon's frown at his interruption creased into a thin, tough line, though Her narrowed eyes softened. "No time for detours, have you?" One end of Her frown ticked up in a humored tsk as Her chest shook softly with a laugh, and She tilted Her head to the window in a concession. "I suppose that is fair. To do as dues are done: you and I are far from similar, and I can only stall for so long."
She stared out the window for a long moment after, eventually drawing a deep breath and nodding to Herself. She turned to him again, temperate satisfaction clear on Her face. "Time would never be short enough for you, my little dawdling child; so ask your questions. I have supplied you with a hefty sum, so I am sure you are eager to pay them out."
Her eyebrows jumped as Her mouth crinkled into a smile, and Her voice turned into a quick, easy drawl. "I can only imagine what turns your mind has taken. I hope my performance has not rendered you witless."
His head lolled as exasperation took over, before a larger body of confusion threw it aside. "Was that what that was?" he muttered, before he quickly shook his head as Nightmare Moon's mouth began to open in response; cutting Her off with a quick scramble of words. "Wait, nevermind, don't answer that. It's... not important."
She probably would have gone off on a rant about how She'd always been into the performing arts, and that or some other thing was how She'd learned how to eat fire. With time apparently short, why was She so intent on stalling him out? Revenge?
He sighed, and let his butt fall to the floor as he brought a hoof up to rub tiredly at his eyes. "Not as important as some things, I should say..." he muttered through a grimace, pressing the tip of his hoof down hard on the bunched point between his shut eyes.
It was pretty much implied that he had a headache, at this point. The pounding made it a bit hard to think, but he'd had worse. Better than a mind wipe, at least.
Well, what was first on his overtired mind? Should he go with the fantastical talk about destiny? About the tired tale of heroes battling evil that he already knew about? Or maybe the star prognostics? How about his apparent role in subverting prophecy?
That was particularly interesting. The box letters talked a lot about his destiny and the prophecies and crap, and now here was the topic being shoved right in his face. If only the box pony had seen any of this coming.
On that note: he could ask Her about the pony who'd been sending him the boxes? It sounded as though She knew who it was, so maybe She'd tell him? He'd certainly been burning to know for just about his entire life, so that was definitely up there in the hierarchy.
He'd always wondered. They seemed like they had a lot of pull, and knowledge of magic besides. A famous wizard? Or was that just wishful thinking?
Too many thoughts, he was getting off track; try to centralize. Take a deep breath, feel the cold air over his tongue. Brisk, and focusing. He was fine, he could think. Stay on topic. This was the time to think.
He could start from the beginning, or go on importance. Start small, or go big. Maybe a mixture? Do what felt natural?
Do what felt natural.
His next breath was deep, as his teeth clenched for the dragging sensation. He tapped the hard edge of his hoof against his forehead once before letting it fall to the ground, and his eyes opened.
Nightmare Moon was staring at him with nearly emotionless calm, though with a faint glimmer of interest behind it. It was hard to tell what that sometimes placid face was thinking at any one time, but he had suspicions.
"So, you've been... prophesized to lose, then?" he started with a casual lilt. Casual was probably a good way to go; at least work up to heated yelling, if that was where this was going. No need to make Her angry before it was necessary. Respect, until it was time for disrespect.
He nodded, just to add affirmation to his words. "It's been... I guess- seen? That you, Nightmare Moon, do not defeat the..." He chewed on the word for a moment, as his face twisted into a grimace. He didn't especially like that word. "...heroes?"
Nightmare Moon considered his words in a thoughtful tilt for a moment, before nodding along after him. "Unfortunate though it may be, you are correct." She sighed, and put a hoof to Her cheek for a moment. "I only wish I could consign it as simple error on my own part, but it is not my predictions alone. As you've obviously experienced for yourself: others have come to the same, seen conclusion."
Of course, the letter had said it, too. That made him wonder, though; had there been other prophecies?
Something to look into.
"Right, and so what you're saying is that in this... scenario, I'm some kind of..." His jaw tightened as he twirled his hooves in the air idly. What was the best word to use without making it sound aggrandizing? "-um... third party? That can... change things?"
His choice of words brought a smile and a small chuckle to Nightmare Moon's face, and Her tone was colored brightly with the humor of it, for a moment. "Well, for once, I believe I may have used a less hurtful connotation, but you have the essentials of it."
She shook Her head good-naturedly for a spiritually contradicting moment, before She let the humor of the moment bleed slowly off through Her sentence. "In the millennium I spent in my owned prison, you are the only alternative that has ever been offered to me, for whatever reason. The only way out, in certain terms."
Her eyes sparkled in the low light as She leaned Her head forward, to rest on the middle of a waiting hoof. "Now, surely, you understand my avarice? In a romantic's eyes, it could be said that you are my knight in shining armor."
The leer She was sending his way was beginning to become a certain kind of uncomfortable, and averting his eyes was the least he could do to alleviate the feeling. Gods above, Her voice nearly sounded like a swoon.
He understood a few more things now. 'My knight' indeed. Didn't make it any less creepy. He half wanted to laugh, just to reduce... whatever tension was in the air.
"Alright, I'm your 'knight,' then." He eased his eyes back to Nightmare Moon as She leaned back off Her hoof. "But why? Why is it that I'm your escape plan? How do I stop the heroes?"
A thought occurred, and his confusion only deepened. "For that matter, why can't you stop them?" His tongue stepped restlessly between his moving teeth as he searched the corners of his eyes, to no avail. "What could I do to them that you can't? Can't you just... skewer them, or something? How strong are they?"
His tongue caught at the end of his question, and he took the opportunity to chew on it. It hurt, of course, but the pain was sort of welcome. It was the kind of pain that brought his thoughts together, rather than scattering them. Just miniscule enough to provide a distraction, of sorts. A raised platform to look down on his thoughts from afar.
Things had cleared in some regards, but clouded in others. Nightmare Moon wanted him not for his Necromancy, but for his weird, arbitrary act in uncertainty. For whatever reason- prophecy in itself or something stupider- he could provide an alternative to what might've been certain events.
It sounded like something out of a cheap adventure novel; but he was already sitting and talking to a breathing Goddess come straight from the moon, so he could suspend a little disbelief.
But Her fate as it was apparently told was to be defeated by a couple heroes. The letter had said it, and now she'd confirmed it. What about that could he change that She couldn't? Distracting them, preventing them from attacking Her: those were things She could do easily enough with illusions. Murder and assault: those were absolutely things She could do.
Suddenly, there was a probing pressure at his forehead that- unlike usual- wasn't insular. He tilted back on his butt unsteadily as it pushed harder, before cutting out completely as he moved.
He shook his head and blinked as his head leaned back to its natural tilt, before his mind caught up, and his face twisted in an offended snarl. "Did you just poke me?!" he barked as his head whipped up to glare at Nightmare Moon and the dying blue shimmer around Her horn.
Nightmare Moon, for Her part, looked slightly amused at his outburst; but the overriding emotion on Her face was mostly just dry indifference. Maybe even slightly angry.
"Light Flow, dear child gone mindless: I have been speaking with the assumption that you were listening for no less than a full minute." She fixed him with a lidded, reproachful stare as awareness dawned on him, and a rising flush grew on his cheeks. "I know that you do not ignore me out of malice, but please do try to properly attend."
Whoops.
He forced himself to chuckle to hide the clear shame on his face, even as it bled into a cough that he tried to similarly hide behind a hoof. He'd been really into it that time. Absolutely incorrigible, he was.
"Yeah, um, sorry." he muttered lowly, as he tried to keep his twitching eyes from wandering away into the heady haze of embarrassment. "Go on, please. I'm- I'm listening."
Nightmare Moon tilted Her head, and raised one eyebrow. The picture perfect definition of disbelief in two motions. Was he really that bad?
He chewed on his lip for a moment, before he shook his head, and cleared his throat. He gathered his hooves close to his legs, and swept his tail in as he straightened his back. He set his jaw firmly, and raised his head to a ten attention. "Please," he repeated, as his zeroed eyes focused perfectly into Her face.
Seeing his perfect posture and obvious interest: Nightmare Moon's steady line of a face turned up in a softened smile. "Oh, there is simply no staying mad at you, child." Her eyes rolled around in a gesture of tolerant humor, as She hummed out a brief chuckle. "Very well; there is no helping it. I will just have to start from the beginning."
Her laughing smile bled away as Her eyebrows fell down in consideration, and Her hoof came up to rub small circles on Her chin. "Now, to begin again..." She murmured quietly, before She nodded to Herself, and seemed to find certainty as Her hoof fell down. "There are two separate points of differing importance that you touched in your... rant; so, as before, I will enlighten the darker of the two first."
Okay, that seemed fair; even if that was a somewhat odd metaphor. He nodded to show he was still listening, because apparently that was a risk.
She seemed appeased by his show of attention, flashing a small smile at him before She continued speaking. "You asked why I cannot just deal with the heroes myself: skewer them, as you so blithely proposed." Her mouth twisted in a grimace to say the words, as though they offended Her in some way.
She totally could though; Her horn was a weapon in itself.
She swept past the gruesome picture in a quick shake of Her head, as Her voice ticked down in a lower tone. "Unfortunately, It is not so easy a matter of action. Whether I could simply do away with them is no question; they are children in comparison. As of yet untouched by the objects that would grant them power."
A detail tripped in his head, and he raised his voice to catch it as it nearly slid by. "Wait, sorry: what about objects of power?"
His question hit just as Nightmare Moon was opening Her mouth for more expository words, and Her eyes fell on him for scant seconds before Her mouth was shutting into a considering line. She seemed to really deliberate on that question for a minute, far longer than he thought was probably necessary.
The silence and the staring again; he was beginning to feel a bit awkward. Was it too late to just say that he didn't care? Because he didn't really care all that much. Whatever objects of power these apparent civilians were going to use to dethrone a Goddess could be sacred fruit for all the staring was worth.
She... looked a bit... glazed.
Eventually, after whatever battle had waged so long behind silent eyes and a tight frown: Nightmare Moon's somewhat absent eyes closed as She shook Her head. "It hardly matters," She murmured noncommittally in a quick breath, as Her eyes opened to slivers. "Would you really gain any perspective for merely knowing their names? It will be evident enough for emphasis when the moment comes. I'd advise you concern yourself only when it is relevant."
Muted surprise sent him leaning back off the borderline hostile edge in Her voice, as Her quiet expression seemed to scream something... off. It was a sort of haunted tone, spoken in shallow breaths and with so little emotion it was as if She was barely registering the words.
She hadn't ever reacted this way before. Was this what it looked like when She hid something? Obviously, he meant.
"I..." He let the vowel rest on his tongue as his face fell down, and he weighed the odds. Would it be worth it to try to pressure to get an answer? It would be setting bad precedent to let Her cover things up.
The drone ended as his voice cut out, and he shrugged as he sent frowning eyes up at the pinched face staring him down. "...Okay," he managed, shaking his head slightly.
He wasn't going to push it. Like always, She was right: it wasn't worth it. Words as lofty as 'objects granting power' weren't typically something easy to explain. He was going off the assumption that they were artifacts of some kind, but artificing was a wide subject that covered topics spanning protection spells to multi-layered mana matrices. The kinds of things that powered death rays and such.
He had even once read a book about a discovered artifact that displaced its holder into a completely different time. Fiction, of course; but based on a true story if the fine print was to be believed.
Really, when fighting Deities was concerned, it could be anything.
Just... save it for later. Like all the rest.
Nightmare Moon let the silence stretch for a quiet moment of him staring half-pleadingly at Her, before She turned Her head, and took in a deep breath. "Forgive me, if you must. It is just a very... personal topic." She spoke in a slow grimace; Her side profile showing very well as She clenched Her teeth between each hollow word. "I am... uniquely qualified to speak on matters such as these, in... unfortunate measures."
Why was concern pressing in on the back of his head? Why did he feel a creeping sense of empathy to hear the grinding emphasis of recollection in Her voice? Why was his unimpressed expression softening with understanding?
Why was he still buying into Her narrative?
He sighed through his nose as his shoulders sagged under the weight of what he was about to say. He already knew what he was about to do, of course; but he did not like it in the least. There was a tiny little part of himself that was giving his larger psyche a wicked side-eye, and reaching for the panic button.
No his marbles were all still there; but they were very small.
He blinked once for a refresh of courage, and let his eyes drift to the least occupied part of the room they could find. Don't choke on the words. Don't choke on the words. "I'm... sorry."
Even as they crested his tongue and found flight in the air, the words burned to say. He hated the consideration he'd forced into his voice, even knowing it was as manufactured as he could manage. He hadn't exactly promised to never make an apology to Her again, but it still felt like some kind of betrayal.
If he had a conscience- gods forbid- then it was surely looking down at him with disappointment. It was certainly a tempting prospect to tear his eyes out so he could do it himself.
His less-than enthusiastic platitude swept away on the brisk air, to seemingly no effect on the entirely closed side-expression of far-gone regret. Except, as he began to wonder whether She'd somehow rendered Herself comatose: his alert eyes caught bunched tensing in the muscles of Her shoulders.
Like a reversing tide, Nightmare Moon sucked in a deep draw of a breath, and held it. Her head slowly turned to face him, and like all of his worst fears come alive: She began to stand.
Confidence was forgotten in a second as he gasped in a breath too quick for his body to properly react. His chest ached as his lungs stuttered in a cough that he forced into a peter to instead stare wide-eyed at the figure he'd forgotten was so tall. Tall enough to eclipse him by entire heads as length upon length of limb revealed themselves to stalk quickly toward him.
He felt like he should run. He couldn't bring himself to run.
He stood dumbstruck and panicking more than his gaping face would ever convey as the black expanse of a figure that was Nightmare Moon stopped to a halt just in front of him. She was so large, so predominantly dominating of one monotone color that all he could see was endless fields of black tar parted by centric streams of silver all the way up to two cyan eyes that sat so calm.
Why was he making it worse with his stupidly dramatic exposition?!
She barely made a sound the entire time, incredibly. No tapping of metal on stone with each step. No wind in his ears to sweep the cloud of Her mane as it trailed to die in wisps. Not even the creak of armor or flesh as She stopped, and lowered Herself to a seat in front of him.
It was as if She just... wasn't there.
But She was. Sitting with Her hooves in Her lap; close enough that he had to crane his stiff neck up just to see the narrow slots of Her eyes. Close enough that the motion of Her reaching Her hooves forward to press onto his shoulders came too quick for him to flinch away; not that he thought he might've even been capable at that point, with how numb his body felt.
Her grip wasn't as... painful as he might've imagined it. It wasn't soft by any means- he could clearly feel the sharp sting of metal just barely not cutting into his flesh- but it wasn't the crushing hold meant to squeeze the life out of him he'd expected. It didn't even really hurt at all, though the metal was cold.
Not gentle, but not rough. He might call it insistent. Either way, he didn't like Her touching him and he'd like it very much if they stayed ten hoof-lengths away from each other at all times.
"Listen to me, Light." Her voice was a harsh hiss through the hard lines of Her latest frown. Her tone held an undertone of quick urgency to it that did very little to help the throttling panic that Her too-close proximity was choking him with. Swallowing against what felt like a physical tide in his throat didn't do much, though it helped cement his image as meek and frightened, at least.
Her grip began to edge into that unspoken realm of painful for a moment, and he could've sworn for a moment that he felt the beginning pinch of blood drawing. But as he grimaced in anticipation, the worsening grip thankfully eased as Nightmare Moon closed Her eyes, and leaned Her head back with a deep breath.
Not for the first time: She took a long moment to collect Herself as She came just shy of hurting him. Not for the last time: Her eyes drifted open softly, and Her drooping shoulders set themselves firmly with whatever affirmation She must've fed Herself.
Her hold eased even further, and with Her hooves less holding him and more resting on him, Nightmare Moon leaned back in; close enough again that he could taste the septic scent of nothing on Her breath as She spoke. "I need you to listen to me, Light. Whatever else may happen this night, following damned prophecy or no, I need to know that out of all my words you will come to demonize and distrust in your future: you will heed and remember this."
Her wide, unblinking eyes as they stared into his seemed almost to glow in the dark. A stark difference in the dark colors of Her coat that urged him to distrust; offering a whisper of some soft message of sincerity.
There was no double meaning in those words: edged with desperation. There was no coy mask behind those wide eyes.
This wasn't a trick. This wasn't a trap. Whatever She was about to say next: it was the truth.
Feeling was beginning to return to his extremities as his brain got the message that he wasn't about to die. Though he still really didn't like the proximity or the cold feeling of metal on his fur: he swallowed, and nodded anyway. "Okay," he eked out, barely. A bit hard to speak through the horrible choking feeling in his throat, though.
He was here. He was listening. He was scared- how could he not be- but that was no reason to shut down.
Nightmare Moon seemed to take solace in his affirmation, as the almost unseen lines of tension in Her face lightened just that little bit. His fur itched uncomfortably as one of the metal-clad hooves softly swept across his shoulder; to repeat again and again in a gesture that might've been comforting from anypony else.
She didn't say anything for a few seconds; just staring down at him with conflicting emotion in Her eyes as Her chest shook with a suppressed sigh. "There... is a force in this world, one that I... inherently struggle to put into sufficient words. One that... perhaps... belies the words I and others have put to it in the past."
The tone in Her words was heavy with the weight of past events; and Her eyes, even sharp and focused on him, seemed almost absent in a way. They struggled to remain on him for favor of drifting, for just... losing themselves wherever She was.
It was only half as concerning as what She was actually saying. Would it be rude to smack Her petting hoof away? Because the sensation of metal on his fur was somehow more uncomfortable than eighty percent of the things She'd done thus far.
She continued, Her face drawing deep lines of consideration muffled by some kind of clear pain. "It is... a great force. Perhaps the greatest force, if that would mean anything to you. I have lived for many years both on this world and another, and in all the time of my life, I have never known anything to be even half its equal.
"I certainly was not."
Okay, bump concern up to the low stages of fear and panic. 'Fright' might've been the word.
Nightmare Moon was openly admitting that there was something stronger than Her; and She being who She was, having just recently conquered who She did, meant that this apparently unassuming 'force' was a force beyond the Gods Themselves.
And what did 'force' even refer to, anyway? Gravity was a force, was it like that? Pushing something resulted in a force being affected, did it mean something like that? Was it some cheap metaphor like the forces of good and evil or did it actually carry weight?!
Okay, he'd lathered himself up into a nice terror, now he was ready to throw it in Nightmare Moon's face.
He let a wide swath of fear that he barely bothered to contain stitch itself onto his face as his heartbeat began to pick up. Some acrid, acidic taste rose in his throat as he spoke, in words barely squeezed through the uncooperative walls of his teeth. His hooves came up to sit on the sides of the forearms of the hooves holding him; while he leaned in, and forced himself to speak. "What... What is it? How have I never heard about it?"
It was a little surprising that his words didn't come out as a shout, considering how hard he'd tried, but he was a little busy freaking out as a greater whole. His jaw was just a messy line of clenched muscles and sore spots as he gnawed relentlessly on his bottom lip, though he was unfortunately denied the sobering taste of blood.
Nightmare Moon met his forward question and forward motion with less violence than She might've any other time. She stared with tight eyes for a moment, before She closed them, and hung Her head with a deep sigh. The noise came just before something whispered, and he tilted his head in an obvious question as She shook Her head.
She drew in a deep breath before raising Her head up, and fixing him with a steady stare. Her grip tightened, and- as his eyes briefly flicked to look at Her hooves- he caught the slightest... shake, there?
"I doubt my ability to adequately impress upon you the severe weight of this matter, Light. Do you understand?" She leaned Her head down, against the armored plating of Her neck as Her eyebrows knitted together, and Her stare intensified. "When I tell you the name of this force, I want you to disregard its face value. We are not playing cards. It is not to be trifled with. It is not to be gambled on.
"Remember what I have told you; but do not fear it, that is not correct. To openly fear it invites its ire, and no crime finds a more bloody recourse. It is to be exalted. Do you hear me? Hold it as you hold your gods. Hold it as you hold your life.
"Do you understand? I need you to say it."
He could barely remember how to speak, though his soundlessly stuttering mouth was trying hard to make up the gap. He nodded fervently, almost instinctively; but that wasn't good enough. He could see it in Her eyes: cold, hard, need. She wouldn't accept it unless he said it.
"I- I understand." The words came out as less than a whisper. A suggestion of words falling like uncomprehending sludge from his slack jaw. He didn't care. He could sound as dumb as soup for all he could care.
The way She was talking about it, this very well could be the most important thing he ever learned.
He'd given Her what She was waiting for, but Her face barely relaxed- if anything: it tightened. As if, for whatever reason, She'd been hoping for some kind of refusal. Something to stop the train in motion. Some clear obstacle to tell Her to swerve.
But there was no escaping it, and Her mouth opened all the same.
"It is called Harmony; and just as I raise the moon, and my sister raises the sun: it is what turns our entire world."
The immediate feeling that rushed in- even before She had finished Her new verse of doom- was disappointment. He'd expected something grand. He'd expected some unknowable name that invoked an instinctive sense of mind-melting alarm and horror in his heart. Harmony? That just sounded... lame.
But She'd warned him. Told him- drove him off that path. Even then, She still bored insistent holes into his skull with a tight jaw and a severe stare that said to look beyond.
Harmony meant peace. Harmony meant bonds. Harmony meant order.
Order. A great force of order.
If it was apt... If there was... a- a will, if such a thing could even exist in such a form, in what was synonymous with the inherent idea of the concept of order... One that could interact with and influence events...
If there was a tangible mind in the world, one that identified with the equine definition of 'Harmony'...
He understood. He understood.
The energy-laced itch of fear began to gradually drain from his system, and the crazed expression of terror he'd worn sloughed off just as urgently. It was gradual, but his face met the feeling that beat within his chest. Slow, steady, unavoidable.
Acceptance.
Nightmare Moon must have seen it on his face, because She seemed to be following along in Her own suit. In the listless haze of unease that had locked his joints and bit his heels, he hadn't seen it: but it was so easily recognizable to see as Her face lost it.
She had been afraid, too. Just to speak of it, She had dreaded it just as much as She'd forced him to.
But now they both knew. Now, it was all very clear.
What point was there in being afraid, anymore?
"Then there is no such thing as destiny, is there?" His downtrodden words came out as dead script off his grey tongue, but he could hardly help it. He let his head fall an inch, to stare down at the armored peytral over Her chest; emblazoned with a picture of a crescent moon that had seemed so big just a moment ago. "It's just a pretty word for what Harmony dictates."
It felt so stupid to say that, but it'd be a hard press to catch him laughing.
She chuckled softly; a noise only as humored as it was ruthlessly cynical. Coincidence. "I would not throw the word off entirely; they both carry the same, essential meaning, in the end." He raised his eyes back to Hers with a tired smile, to unsurprisingly match the one he'd heard in Her voice.
Her eyes left his to fall to Her hooves as they lay on his shoulders, and they crinkled in faux laughter as She breathed a facsimile. His hoof felt the movement before it happened, and it stayed through the ride as one black, metal-clad hoof rose up to rest gently on his cheek.
He might've flinched, if he hadn't been helping it along. He might've screamed, if he hadn't been sighing, and resting his weight against it.
"If I hadn't just been told that the arbitrary ideals of chance and probability were subject to what is essentially a thinking mind, I would never let you do this, you know." he murmured as he closed his eyes, and fully pressed his face into the yielding plate of metal as it shifted against him.
A hum was his response, and the hoof still left on his shoulder began to rub small circles in his fur. "Oh, I can only imagine what violent methods you would propose to yourself. Daydreams of drawing my blood with your teeth, or leaping forward to pop your horn into my eye. Not that you would ever actually act on them."
For whatever small stab of indignance he felt, he laughed anyway, and tilted his head at an angle the hoof followed. "You do know me so well. It's almost embarrassing: you probably do know my mind better than I do."
Another hum; it was the only way She could clearly convey Her expressions to him as long as he held his eyes closed. This one was a question. "It would be insulting to act coy, us having cleanly discussed the matter of your unwilling host for so many years, but perhaps I will just have to risk being rude. Why do you say so?"
He sighed, as his head lolled against the cool, supporting weight. Oh, how would Tartarus damn him; he was feeling unguarded. Now that the world at large felt unassumingly dangerous: he felt reasonably safe enough to open up, at least in this one moment.
Some part of his mind still holding out hope that Nightmare Moon was the most powerful creature in the world screamed in panic as he nodded against Her hoof. "It's been... Well, I suppose it's just been since I woke up, really. But I think the issue runs back much farther."
Nightmare Moon hummed, and the hoof on his shoulder pressed in for a moment, before returning to rubbing circles. Monster or no: She knew scarily well how to comfort.
Sufficiently assured of... weird levels of acceptance: he returned to speaking, with a tired edge in his voice. "I've been feeling somewhat... lost, might be a good word." He sighed, and shook his head softly enough to not break contact. "You must have expected so much of me, and I've barely been able to keep lucid through the hours.
"It's not something that's really been on the forefront of my mind- you haven't really given me the option of it- but I've been... I guess- worried about- about myself." He picked up speed through the last part of his sentence, and it took his stumble before he found a deep breath, and calmed his racing mind.
He licked against the backs of his teeth; tasting the dirty smell of the day's events on his breath before he continued. "For a while, it could be said that I was... an entirely different pony. I remember, actually- that was what I firmly believed when I was... him. I thought of the Light Flow that I am now as..."
He swallowed through the sudden block that rose to stop his word. "A stranger."
He could feel the interjection coming. This was when Nightmare Moon would butt in, to either reject or console him- he didn't even know at this point; but either way, he wasn't done.
"That's not even the end of it, though; It's become even worse, now. For my entire life, ever since I got that box in the mail that talked about all those things I could and maybe would be: I've been so ready to just... surrender myself to fate. To let the course of my life take me where it may. To- To fulfill my destiny."
An unfeeling monster.
A caring hero.
"...No matter what it was."
He sighed again, heavier this time, as his shoulders sagged. "I did nothing but whittle my life away waiting for that special day. The next box. The starting line. The- The call to action. The clear sign to my eyes that it was time. That my destiny was waiting for me, and that I could... do whatever I was going to do. Magically just become that great figure I was promised to be."
His eyes slid open, just barely hooded; as he stared beyond what he saw. Behind it all: he saw bunnies. And boxes. Four orange hooves joined by many more. The picture of a casket never seen. A forgettable cabin. Books on books on books and nothing in any of them worth really knowing.
"But it's now. Destiny doesn't exist, and the hoof I thought would lead me to it instead brought me here; to a place where I am never good enough. Four years spent in change since my mother died and I know as much about my special talent as I did when I was ten."
He saw a smiling white face. It was blurry.
He closed his eyes. "I thought I knew where I was and what I was doing, but twelve hours ago I didn't even know my name. I thought I could stand up somehow and stop you, but I still don't even know what you want."
He took a deep breath. This was easier than he'd expected, as long as he kept his eyes closed.
"I asked you so many times what you would want me for; and it's because I still don't see what you must see in me. If- If Harmony had not specified such a strange condition for your win, I can only imagine that you never would have bothered with me. There wouldn't have been any reason to.
"And... I don't know why, but... that hurts. It shouldn't. I should and do still see you as just the monster under my bed that crawled into my dreams to torment me; but here I am with- with your hoof on my cheek and my shoulder just letting you, while- while I pour my heart out like some kind of dumb, needy little-"
He ran out of breath. He was left literally gasping for his next word as his chest ached, and his mouth flapped for the next ten stanzas of his heated soliloquy that he suddenly couldn't remember.
His cheeks were wet.
The breath as he fed it to himself was deep and hungry, and he grabbed the air greedily between desperate pants. His heart was pounding in his ears, though it was slowly getting quieter as he apparently calmed from a breakdown he hadn't even realized he was having.
And still, the hoof was on his cheek.
It would be a dramatic lie to say that his eyes traveled slowly up to Nightmare Moon's face, because he obviously made the trip in an instant. He was vulnerable in a way that he couldn't currently describe, and he wanted very badly to know what that would mean for him. Because it could potentially mean something awful.
Nightmare Moon was frowning. No- but it wasn't a menacing frown, it was more... considering. Her eyes were soft and hooded, and lost somewhere on his face that he couldn't follow. Sometime along the way, Her hoof had stopped rubbing circles on his shoulder, and it sat motionless even then.
She was thinking. Deeply enough that She may have fallen off at any point during his rant and She hadn't even noticed him continuing. Or stopping.
His mouth closed silently, and he sniffled as quietly as he could as he wiped away the tears on his unoccupied cheek. Nightmare Moon really was the perfect match for him: getting lost in Her own mind just as often as he did in just as inappropriate times.
But at least it gave him time to think. Thinking about what a huge sucker he was: telling Nightmare Moon, a master of manipulation, all about the deepest secrets that he hadn't even really known until he'd said them. Oh what a great idea: supply Her with more ammunition. Maybe She'd return the favor and tell him all about Her world of a thousand years ago.
But they were all true, all completely genuinely from him. He was afraid of being that stranger, that far-off pony who seemed so unnecessarily rude and eccentric and isolationist. Maybe he and him hadn't been so different after all, but he before had been so afraid of becoming him now.
Even as he'd come to terms with it, a dark little corner of himself had wondered if he hadn't just killed a Light Flow in his own right.
But he before could never have lived as he was then. He needed to become... him now- okay, that metaphor was becoming obtuse. He would just have to come to terms with himself and who he had been for one day out of his entire life.
Maybe he'd reconcile, one day, with that other pony. Find a way to be okay with a fracture of himself fit into his greater picture.
Or maybe he'd just live with a cyst on his personality for the rest of time.
He wasn't lost enough to miss the quick, subtle blink; and he wasn't upset enough to ignore it. He focused his attention on Nightmare Moon as obviously as he could, even as She just stared for a long moment. But She had blinked. She was conscious, again.
Sure enough, Her eyes eventually trailed from his face in a smooth glide. One that swept all around Her field of view, long enough in some places that Her head even followed slightly.
What was She looking for? Was She just deliberating? Even more?
Her first audible breath since before he'd started ranting was deep, as those tired lines on Her face said. Her face may have been tired with the work of whatever conclusion She'd come to, but Her eyes as they returned to his face were sharp. Maybe not as sharp as some of Her glances, but sharper than he'd been expecting.
He nearly opened his mouth to ask when Her hoof suddenly fell away from his face, and he was left staring after it. That stare turned into another, wider, as She suddenly stood with as little noise as She'd sat down. Not a ruffled feather, not a misplaced armor segment. Brace, unfolding legs, and suddenly: She was even taller.
He was still seated, but he somehow resisted the urge to stand up and take several steps back as something about the last glance he'd managed to catch seemed to scream... he didn't even know. There was just some feeling gnawing at him, as Nightmare Moon caught his eye again before turning away, that told him to stay still.
She turned to walk to the side, and his eyes caught his first glance at Her cutie mark. A large, purple splotch covered the entire length and width of Her behind; covered only by whatever wisps of Her ephemeral tail dipped down, as well as the more important large, white crescent moon faced inwards.
It was honestly unlike anything he'd ever seen. Her cutie mark had a backdrop.
Fitting as the night's sky, but still a little unfair. Not even Her sister had something so special. That did beg a rather unimportant question, though: why was it purple?
He had no answers, even as he brazenly and rudely stared all the way through Nightmare Moon's walk to a nearby broken window. It was one of the assumed half or so that had been shattered from the bottom up, so there was no stub to obscure Her view as She took a long look through.
Looking at the night, probably. The castle grounds, too. Made sense, but he was beginning to feel antsy. He was still waiting to see if he'd be punished for weakness.
"Light Flow."
The steady thrum of Her voice didn't catch him off guard so much as it unnerved him. He'd been expecting it, but he still didn't really want to be subject to whatever punishment was surely coming his way.
He licked his lips as he grimaced; and though his throat was a little sore from his outburst, he found a response anyway. "Yes..?"
He'd packed that 'yes' with enough hesitation to feed a cowardly family, but it did little to slow Nightmare Moon. He braced for impact as She nodded out the window, and turned Her head to focus one eye on him.
"Prepare yourself. I am going to teach you something about Necromancy."
10/26/22 - Renamed chapter from '40 - Wake Up 4/?' to '43 - Order'
I didn't do what I wanted to with this chapter, but I think it's interesting enough regardless.
I'm resigned to just writing chapter 40 for the rest of all of our lives, at this point. I'm gonna try to stop feeling bad about it; it was really killing my drive. It does no good for any of us if the author is too afraid to even look at the page.
Consider this the anniversary chapter.
Also happy near anniversary.
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Is this it? Is the next post finally going to tell us something we didn't already know?
I also noticed several things that could be interpreted as a Message From Fred, but that's not new either.
Holy shit. This chapter is just... Damn. Especially that last line.
11198895
To be fair: I did say that I didn't do what I wanted; but squeezing anything about Necromancy into this chapter would have left me without a dramatically convenient end point. I need to bridge chapter gaps somehow.
The stuff about Harmony may have been everything we already know as viewers of the show, but Light's only just now finding out. And with his memory only just recently having been returned, he hasn't had any time to reflect on the day's events; so he's realizing his own feelings as much as he is waxing them. I see it as a beautiful little moment for the character and his growth: realizing and vocalizing his feelings like that. It's genuinely hard to do.
I told myself that I would stop feeling bad for writing garbage, and that means standing up and saying that it's a little unnecessary to use such hostile question marks. I know you're tired of waiting for something to happen, but there's something to be said for taking solace in the small things.
I also don't know what a message from fred is.
11198905
If that 'damn' is complimentary, then thank you! I had originally wanted to do something with Necromancy in this chapter, but then the revelation about the force of Harmony turned into a sudden emotional outpouring that I got very invested in, and then the chapter was far too long for it, and then a convenient stopping point presented itself, so I just moved it over.
But I think I'm doing exactly as well as I wanted to in developing the weird, Stockholm relationship between Light and NMM! It's a beautiful thing: feeling feelings for someone you have every reason to hate!
If that 'damn' was negative, then I guess... sorry?
11198927
It's very much so complimentary, don't worry.
It's definitely pleasing to see the relationship between he and NMM develop as it is. I can't help but wonder what his relationship with Luna would be like, if the direction of the story and the length you've planned to write permit it.
11198947
It's no big secret: I'm very excited to eventually have Light and Luna meet. If canon goes as it may, then Nightmare Moon obviously won't be around once we're past the purview of this one, long night; but Luna will be. It's going to be a delightfully awkward remission between the Martyr Mare and the abused little colt.
11198955
Oh man, I can't wait!
Also, flipping through this chapter again, I'm noticing a few different places you're using two periods for ellipsis instead of three.
Hello! Quite glad to be getting spoiled for updates.
And this, this works very well. The slight easing towards emotional payoff is wonderful.
Oh my god he can learn!
Oh wow she can learn too!
Awww. That's so sweet.
I wonder if Nightmare Moon does know how big a deal that is. Hes far from the most social pony. And certainly not very touchy feely.
Think on many things N&M. Like yourself. The colt before you. And perhaps what exactly he is, if he represents an escape from Harmonys path. And what he is to you.
Fitting. And certainly more in her style than empty platitudes or commiseration over a shared fate.
Now where was that quote....
Okay.
Why does Nightmare Moon think she will still lose? And how long is it going to take Light Flow to pick up on that?
That being said super heartwarming and fun chapter. Thank you!
11199376
You know I love your comments? I think I've said it before, but I also happen to think that it won't hurt to repeat.
I'm... I really am ready to go all in on some sort of real something happening, and for this months-long night to finally end; but I just can't abandon the opportunities afforded here. This is all so so important for Light's development and his further development when it comes to his experiences with the ponies around him. I feel like you understand that, and that really means a lot to me.
The effort you and others like you put into your comments is what keeps bringing me back to writing, even when I feel like I might not be as able as I used to be. It's galvanizing. It's revitalizing.
Congrats on the near anniversary and for reaching chapter 40 again.
This might be the first chapter in a while where something actually happened. Light Flow was told the simple truth of the world "You aren't special, stop sitting around waiting for a call to action. Do something about it, Idiot" And that was beautiful.
Especially the part where Nightmare Moon tells him "Light Flow, I am your father. Join me and we shall rule over this peacful nation that preaches harmony and friendship but then immediately falls to an invading army because the military is sub-par, together."
That was really touching.
11199437
I thought the political commentary and the blatant references to hollywood classic: The Princess Bride, might've been too on-the-nose; but I think it came out well enough.
kek
Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy, it's haaaaappeeeeening~
Great Story!
Good chapter
11206952
Thanks, I wrote it myself!
I guess there was actually just a teeny tiny bit of story development in those 4 long chapters. I'm not sure. I fell asleep.
I can't even begin to explain to you how torturously uncomfortable it is, reading the book about helplessness, where protagonist has absolutely no control over anything in his life. It's so frustrating, it's depressing.
It's not a bad book. I'm really interested what exactly she has planned for him. It's just... So dreadfully stretched out and full of depression.
Good story, but it's so boring at parts. I just speed-read the long-ass text most of the time because I got so tired. The past 4 chapters alone have been nothing but walls of text about Light and Nightmare Moon that it's simply boring.
11648201
I can't promise it'll get better! As it is, blocky walls of emotion and overly verbose drama are my bread and butter! Honestly, I'm actually surprised you've made it this far, past a few sections of the story that I consider to be way worse.
I'm grateful that you've read to this point, and for your kind pretense, but this story is slow and low-key. You may want to bow out now if you aren't willing to contend with ridiculous amounts of exposition for practically no reason beyond any reasonable expectation. That's kind of what my writing has always been!
I'm glad you came, and I won't hold it against you if you decide to go!