Nine Hundred Years of Longing

by jphenix

One Day

Celestia glided across the crumpling bridge to the Tower of Time.

Her hooves landed at what remained of the front entrance. Muted white stones rose from the ground before her, climbing higher and higher till they split around a small opening. Orange light flowed from the paneless window. Day clashed with night on the conical roof above it, their battlefield its splintered green timbers. Celestia returned to the ground and the battered iron frame where a door once rested. She entered the tower and began her ascent up the spiral staircase within, never seeing a silver moonbeam cut through the darkness behind her. Celestia did see the shadows cast by her lit horn, bouncing off the carved steps and dancing on the drab walls.

She came to a small landing at the top and found a studded oak door slightly ajar. Through the narrow opening she glimpsed a figure hunched over a blackboard. Colored etchings littered the coal black surface, but from this angle the scribblings appeared fractured and indecipherable. Hushed murmurings came from under the faded brown cloak the figure wore. "The stars will aid in her escape…" Celestia gently knocked and pushed the door open. The cloak turned at the noise and he saw her standing on the threshold.

"I've gazed upon the flame of Hearth's Warming, but you are the hottest thing I ever laid eyes on," remarked Clover.

Celestia snorted at the old greeting and proceeded into the room. The tavern in Trottingham where they first met had reeked of stale ale and burnt hay mixed with the sickeningly sweet stench of chocolate rain. The tower’s chamber, however, smelled of chalk, fresh scrolls, and a crisp autumn night. Star Swirl's mirror and oversized hourglass had been moved to storage. The center was now occupied by a large table; an empty water skin, loose papyrus, a bamboo abacus with jade beads, broken quills, carved wax tablet, and a bronze orrery littered the top of it.

"Did that line ever work on anypony?"

Clover scrunched his nose when he thought. Age had dulled his vibrant green coat. Wispy strands of graying hair rested on his head, the bold yellow streak in his mane had long since gone completely white. "No,” he admitted, a small smile crept up his face, “not even with my wife. She told me, 'I know Clover. I was there,' then laughed at the shock on my face.” Celestia laughed at that too, not unkindly. “One night, and one apology drink, later and we got to reminiscing. We ended up talking till dawn." His smile spread further and the years washed away in its wake. “I look forward to speaking to her again, some day."

Not soon, she hoped. Silly philander that he used to be, his flame was a great comfort in dark times. Thank Harmony, Luna intervened before I knocked his drunken head off. She always kept me from making the worst mistakes. The thought sent a stab of guilt through her chest. She pushed past the pain and refocused on her friend. "Until then, I brought these for you," she said, glad her voice came out calmly.

Avoiding the cluttered table, she moved to the desk in the corner. Using her magic, Celestia slid the beeswax candle and its brass holder aside to make room. Water zested with lime sloshed as the pewter pitcher and cup settled on the wooden surface. Steam rose out of the clay bowl of oatmeal drizzled with honey and a pinch of cinnamon.

Clover eyed the meal indifferently, “That’s very kind, but I ate this afternoon.”

Celestia regarded him with a highly dubious look. “I see no food scraps around, the bridge is still broken from the battle, last I checked the castle scullions can’t self-levitate, and you haven't been sighted out of this tower in two whole days,” she listed. "Pray, where did you acquire this meal, Purgatory?"

“Two days.” Clover had learned to keep the shock off his face, but there was a flash of it in his sage eyes; however, it was gone before Celestia could even fully notice. “Well, it seems like I lost track of time in this tower,” his lips curled slightly.

The raise of her royal eyebrow had broken countless jabbering diplomats and at least half a dozen warlords. It also worked well against a certain friend who should have been more clever.

Clover sighed. “Fine, I… work better when I’m famished,” he shrugged and tightened the braided drawstring around his neck. One of the bronze aglets got caught in a gap in the wool. He quickly gave up on retrieving it, shaking his head. “I shall eat shortly, but first, I believe I’ve dithered long enough,” the wrinkled patches on his weathered cloak flattened as he stood as tall as his old frame would allow. “I have something for you as well,” he announced suddenly solemn.

Celestia resisted the urge to stiffen at the shift in tone, instead, she gave one sure nod and approached. He shuffled slowly aside and pointed his hoof. Following the aged limb led to the blackboard she loathed. Months had been spent bashing her head against its black depths; alone, writing and rewriting a litany of futile equations. Until the day Clover walked into the throne room and offered his services. Now at the very bottom, past all their depictions of the moon, fragments of sentences, and arcane inscriptions, was an M circled in white chalk.

Her eyes widened at the Romane numeral. “Days!?” Faded green fur blew back with the force of the question. Celestia didn’t notice, too consumed with the sums racing through her mind. The smile came unbidden. That means her banishment ends in a few-

“Years,” he answered grimly. “On the day of the thousandth summer solstice to be precise.”

Celestia blinked. The room blurred in a haze of light and shadows. She felt not the breeze through the open window nor the beating of her own heart. Only the hiss of the candle broke through her stupor; it wrapped around her ears and plunged inside her mind, strangling all her thoughts. She shook herself loose after a minute. Faced with crushing reality, Celestia fell back on the thing she was best at. “Could you be wrong?” she argued.

"Perhaps, divination is a tricky thing, but we-"

“Perhaps you forgot something?”

Clover’s mouth formed a thin hard line. A chill entered the room that had nothing to do with the night air. Celestia winced internally upon realizing what she had said and to whom. “As I’ve attested repeatedly, the memory stone did not permanently affect my mind. Every piece that witch took I got back,” he replied bitterly, eyes sullen in the candlelight.

Some familiar part of Celestia wanted to quarrel, to stem the tide of her sorrow with blazing anger, if merely for one pointless night. She had recently realized there was a different path; it was long and winding, and finding it had cost her dearly. Celestia bowed her head. “I’m sorry. That was inconsiderate of me to say. She is your friend, this must be painful for you as well.”

His features softened. “No apology necessary. She is your sister. I cannot fathom the depths of pain you must feel.” Clover looked at his work frowning. “Fate has dealt us a cruel hoof in this.”

Indeed. The old stallion and the old soul leaned against each other, staring at the board for several silent minutes. Then Celestia reached a hoof out and pressed it to the outline of a crescent moon surrounded by six colored orbs. “Perhaps this is for the best. Without her, I can’t harness the Elements again, and without them, I can’t vanquish the Nightmare.” She removed her hoof, smearing the moon’s blue border, allowing the black to seep in. “I must find a different way.” Celestia’s eyes bore into the M, its snowy twin peaks etched against the dark. Strange, such a small thing left her feeling so alone, even standing next to a friend. Friend. Her ears swiveled forward.

The lone stone structure in her village had been the church. She remembered staring up at its spires with foalish wonder; to her, they seemed to touch the very sky. When she asked how such a thing was even built, her father pointed to the white cornerstone set in its wall, laid down when there was nothing but a patch of empty dirt. “Anything is possible”, he said, “with time and a solid foundation”.

Celestia laid her foundation. “I can find new Element bearers.”

Clover nodded slow and steadily. “Exceedingly difficult, but not impossible. You’ll need quite a gifted unicorn to lead them.”

“Yes.” Wheels clicked in her head. “Yes” she repeated.

“It will be the work of a lifetime… or several. But if anypony can do it, it’s you. You were always like my Smart Cookie. Brighter than the rest of us combined,” he fought back an exhausted yawn.

After everything tonight, it felt good to smile at the comparison, even a little. Celestia hadn’t visited her grave yet this year; any of their graves. All my plans must wait for the morrow though. Glancing out the window at the black sky, she was relieved to see the moon remained hidden behind nebulous clouds. Keen to avoid its face and the melancholy it induced, she declared, “The night grows late, I think it’s time for us to retire.”

“Here I thought I came out of retirement to help you,” he quipped wryly.

Celestia extended a foreleg. ‘Would you help once more? The bridge is out and the rooms are such a frightful long ways away in the dark, I could use some good company.”

He gave her a sleepy smirk. “A princess escorting me to the castle bedchambers? Perhaps that line finally worked after all.” Clover grabbed the outstretched limb and held tight. Celestia whickered as he levitated the cup of water from the desk to his lips. After wiping his mouth, he shook his head.

“You know I think I may continue,” he announced while sipping on the bowl of oats. “How so?” Celestia asked as they gradually made their way to the stairs together.

“Now that we’ve predicted Nightmare Moon’s return, I might try my hoof at the other principal mysteries. I could root out Tambelon, discern where the Crystal Empire vanished to, or finally find the unbreakable stick Star Swirl had up his arse.” She snorted and shook her head at that. Grabbing the door handle in her magic, Celestia gave the board one last long look.

“What? I’m still a spry young stallion,” he shakily climbed down the top step. “Seven is such an overdone magical number anyhow. The Nine Trials of Clover the Clever… on second thought I don’t like the ring of that. Oh, if I find Grogar’s bell that makes te-,” the door closed shut and their muffled voices faded away.

The candle they left behind continued to cast its light over the room and onto the blackboard, illuminating the rightmost corner where a single small number sat alone. Looking much like a crescent moon, was a C they forgot to take from the total.

---

100 years before the prophesied return of Nightmare Moon

She stalked the filly from behind a tree.

The lime green earth pony had their back turned. Her two blond braids jostled as she worked. The apple pie on her thigh stretched as she reached for the fruit. She was completely unaware of the monster lurking a few yards away.

Monster pressed her hoof lightly against the trunk as she leaned to watch. Applying too much pressure would snap the wood and reveal herself. It was a shame she couldn't feel the warm supple bark of the tree. Nor enjoy the sun bathing the orchard in bright white light, or the cool breeze blowing through the verdant leaves above. Nothing registered save the endless throb of her empty stomach.

The filly reached up to the waiting branches and pulled another rainbow apple down. Despite being short statured, she easily plucked the fruit from its perch. The wicker basket at her hooves shook as she dropped it in. It fell next to its siblings, a delicious riot of colors ripe for the taking.

Behind the tree, she wet cracked lips and moved her free hoof a few inches to the side. The unseen branch shattered beneath her. A thunderous crack ripped through the peaceful orchard. The green filly spun around at the frightful noise. Sweat trickled down her quivering muzzle, but there was no movement in the surrounding woods. She whirled back around to hurriedly finish her work. Monster peeked a slitted pupil out from her hiding place.

Cupping the last apple in her hooves, the child gave it a quick once over. It appeared perfectly fine, until the multi-colored flesh started to ripple and melt, exposing a core of withering black worms. A yelp escaped the filly and she hurled the thing away from herself. The rotten fruit struck the tree in front of her and oozed down the side, leaving behind a pulsating trail. Brown branches began to jerk erratically, violently twisting in the high wind that came wailing down from nowhere. The leaves curled in on themselves, as the bark decayed into ashy gray flesh.

Day darkened and a pale moon rose, casting its harsh light across the orchard. Grass withered under the night, as the rest of the trees began to atrophy and die. Soon only a forest of lifeless trunks remained standing in the desert. "Pa!!! Ma!!!" the filly cried desperately.

A piercing howl answered.

The timberwolves appeared out of nothing. Hulking slabs of wooden flesh and spiky branches, bristling with stake sharp teeth and oak spears for claws. The pack began to circle the lone pony. Poisonous green orbs bored into their trapped quarry. She backed against a blackened trunk, overturning her basket.

Flames ignited inside Monster's cold heart at the sight. She stepped out from behind the tree and towered threateningly above the timberwolves. They sensed the newcomer approach; one glance and they all bowed before her.

The filly spotted her standing over the wolves, and blood drained from her petrified face. Beads of water splashed onto the trampled brown grass. Monster leaned down and gazed at her reflection in the teary-eyed pools of the frightened child. True to her name, a vast ebony timberwolf stared back. Its glassy cobalt blue orbs narrowed to pinpricks. Arid wind carried the pungent odor of fear and ruin. Drums pounded in her head. When her pack howled, the last warm embers in Monster's heart snuffed out. Gnashing rotten silver teeth the size of short swords, she braced herself; the urge to rip and tear were overwhelming.

The filly shrieked as the monster pounced.

Luna awoke staring at nothing. Only the dull ache in her horn and the suffocating weight of her armor greeted her. She sat up at the bottom of the crater and sighed, frosty breath raising from bloodless lips. It was going to be a lucid day.

The more and more these days came, the larger the venomous leech inside Luna seemed to grow. Ignoring the squirming around her numb heart, she stood. Jet black wings popped as they stretched; her stomach rumbled faintly. Luna peered up at the vacant inky sky above, silently begging the heavens to return. They always rejected her pleas, but continued to keep her prison well lit. Somepony else might have said that was a welcome concession, but to Luna, it only felt like mockery.

Climbing out of the crater was easy, she had done it countless times. Looking back was the hardest part; the pain of her landing still ached after all these years. No matter how far she ran, or how deep she dug, the crater forever beckoned. Whether it was a day, a year, or a decade, she always woke in the same spot eventually. Always returned to the monument of her banishment. The testament to everything she lost.

Luna tapped a metal-clad hoof on the rim of the crater, sending a flurry of gray pebbles tumbling down the slope. Perhaps a return to the Batri is in order. There is still that carving I have been meaning to-

Four chimes rang out joyfully in the void.

Luna spun around gobsmacked. Pockmarks littered the silver-gray desolation she called home. Above the depressions a stream of star dust churned in the wind. Looking much like a slate snake shedding its skin, particulates fell and scattered throughout the barren wastes. Nothing else moved. Could she have invaded another pony's dreams without realizing?

The chimes laughed merrily again, above her.

Luna peered up into the nothingness. The vast black ceiling of her prison remained enduring. That's when the most beautiful sparkle of light pierced the dark, followed by several others. Luna gasped at the sight of the stars.

Colors only dreamed of unfurled before her. First came the whites of the clouds, then scattered blues swirled around the edges of the cream. Here and there the waters coalesced into large clusters of rich ocean. Finally, Luna beheld a vast expanse of caramel flecked with sumptuous green. Riveted, she gawked at her homeworld, a dazzling crystal sphere turning on a boundless stygian table.

Warm tears flowed down her face, while magic coursed its way through her veins. Wondrous pain gripped her heart; Luna put a hoof to her chest. Then the dark lifted further and she glimpsed the glorious sun. Her sun.

Ringing filled Luna's ears that had nothing to do with chimes. Drums mixed with the buzzing, as her blood boiled. Tears gave way to inky slime which slithered to the dirt and sizzled. Somewhere far away a filly cried out. Luna tried to resist the urge, but the thing inside drowned everything out in a bloodthirsty wail.

All sound stopped. Glimmering smoke swirled around her hooves. Midnight blue light burned in the dark alicorn's horn. No more weakness. No more surviving off scraps. She was free.

The first thing Nightmare Moon did was tear down the roof of her prison.

Gripping the sky in her magic, she yanked. A vast ripping was heard as she drew the nightveil to her. Like a master smith at her forge, she hammered the darkness to her design. The wheels were smelt of oblivion. Reins and yoke fashioned out of endless shadows. Into the black chassis, she poured her cruelty, her malice, and her will to dominate all light.

With her chariot complete, Nightmare Moon turned to the next task. One flick of her horn was all that was needed. Hooves veined with ice erupted through the soil at the bottom of the crater. Dirt poured off the granite skin of the thirteen bat ponies that wretched themselves out of the gray ground. Dead frost blue eyes squinted in the light. Spotting their mistress, they hastily shuffled up the crater and began to prepare the carriage. Once harnessed, they bowed their heads somberly.

Sauntering over, Nightmare Moon stepped in. She took a last look around, before snapping the reins, leaving deep gorges in stone backs. I am coming home sweet Celestia. Rock legs charged and spiked wheels spun as the chariot picked up speed. With a great beating of wings it soared off the ground and headed for the world above.

For the first time in nine hundred years, there was no mare on the moon's face.