Many Million Moons Ago

by The Real Darkness

Can You Even Begin to Count?

Vantor flashed his eyes open a couple of times and chowed into the food before him. Of course, eating all of it was impossible, but the citrus this time spurred him on more. A change of pace from sweet fruits and common vegetables. Lips puckered from the intense lemons he had just made a mess with, he finished with water. A few hours of sleep was all he could manage in the brightly lit castle, it’d have to do him for a while.

It occured to him that a Queen was in the next room over, likely having sat there while he slept. Also having sat there while he ate. Where were his manners? Vantor slowed himself down, eating with more care, taking time to properly chew and quiet his chomps.

The sticky evidence of fruit juice was unavoidable. Thankfully a wash bowl was accessible, the porcelain decorated with the same silver and gold accents with a trio of long horns painted on in the center.

Archeologists would have to dedicate a three story museum to this place if they ever found it. Vantor sulked at that thought. Nobody and nopony would ever come upon this place in the state he did. That spell Nebula's been keeping up would eventually run out from either her defeat at the hooves of her sister or his success at exiting and returning with help. He looked to the two journal’s. Comet Streak’s laid below Vast Nebula’s. The journeys the two of them took laid in those pages, a view no other creature would see except him. What an incredible privilege. He grabbed the pillowcase up from the bed, ripped it, and began to bind the books together with them.

Vantor wondered if they had any boats on the surface, be a long time since he was last out at a lake.

He knotted the books tightly with the ripped pillowcase before he made a loop and hung it over himself like a sash. Fashion points didn’t quite count, but this is something he’d want to read later. Learn more about what he’s up against. Carrying them efficiently would also matter, he had a sword and shield to keep a hold on or he might meet his demise against one of the citizens turned minions. He’d try his best for Nebula, that’s what he eventually settled on. If she’s strong enough to suspend time this long, she could figure out how to get him home, right? To family, friends, and work?

At least he had a thick sharp crescent of cobalt steel and a round plate of...porcelain? Vantor didn't look it over to well before he went to sleep but now that he held the shield he took that moment. His back craned over while he rose it closer to his eyes, the shield was porcelain with a steel cage over it and in front of it. The same precious metals in the rest of the castle clung as accents and chiseled designs. They swooped in swirls and crescents, but underneath all the metals lied paints of different colors. Alicorns were simply depicted, one of them clearly Vast Nebula and he could make a guess as to who the others were.

He could almost hear the heartbreak when Vast Nebula had to act so quickly. He wondered what that day might have looked like. Then he wondered more about Nebula herself. Could she shoot giant lasers? Bomb an entire city flat? Teleport?

And she asked him for his help, oh how small that made him feel. If he was doing something to stop her maybe more powerful sister, what chance did he have?

"Coming out here or hiding away for the rest of time?" Her voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“Good morning, Vantor,” Queen Nebula addressed as he walked out of the study turned bedroom, her greeting was followed with a hoof hiding her laugh, "did you forget somepony was listening to you eat?"

Vantor couldn't manage his eyes up, "haaa...so you did hear that. Sorry, Queen Nebula. It's not very pol-."

"Rubbish!" She threw her hoof to the air, "I won't be allowing you to use that title on my name anymore!" She stamped her hoof down and it echoed out.

The sound was just proof that she commanded authority despite having no subjects to rule over. Leadership was born in her.

"You will also refrain from addressing me as 'majesty' or I might have to clap you in iron myself," Nebula continued on firmly.

"I...okay, I understand, Nebula," he nodded.

"Now fix your posture and look at me. I believe I said good morning," she was smiling wide, enjoying this moment of social torture with a puffed chest of pride. Vast Nebula was a firm believer in self-confidence being the only key needed to self-actualize.

"G-good morning," a short silence filled between them, "wait. You said you have this whole place in a stasis spell. Morning isn't a...thing or concept here, is it?"

“Well, no. This spell is so extensive that the ponies above have to move the sun and moon themselves,” she laughed, “those who were spared must have had very powerful children,” a look of angst shadowed her smile.

He could tell Nebula was genuinely happy to converse with him, but the sentence she had just spoke held a kind of sentiment. It wasn’t something he could bring up or address, not now. That wouldn’t be a very productive conversation.

Vantor stepped down the gilded stairs, carefully heading to the throne room doors, “by the way,” he huffed, “how...why were they attacking me again?”

“Comet Streak has been forcing them to. That’s my guess, she’s influencing her magic over them and making them act on her behalf. I understand you might have a quarrel with that.”

“Well, I...I killed one of the ponies down here before I met you.”

“And I imagine it to have been done in self defense,” she waved her hoof dismissedly, “in honesty, they are all doomed to die. When Comet Streak is defeated, there will be no need for my stasis spell anymore. Those ponies and my kingdom will rapidly decay. Don’t feel bad if you must put them to an end.”

Vantor stood in front of the giant doors, “what about you? Will you die?”

Vast Nebula smiled that same depressing expression, “no. Alicorns, especially myself, do not age past a point. I will disappear, to be crushed by my kingdom as it settles atop me.”

That is what Vantor actually had a problem with. An unknown hero going unthanked or unnoticed? Home had enough of that happening. He didn’t say anything, but he gripped the silver ring of one of the throne doors, heaving as hard as he could to open it.

“Good luck, Vantor!” She called from her throne.

“Vany, we’re friends,” he stopped pulling on the door, "is there no way home for me? Really?"

"You're not thinking of running out on me, are you?" Her humor covered up her depressing smile pretty well. Vantor knew the look of someone running from something, he often saw that in the mirror too a long time ago.

"Of course not, I just-. I'll help you is what I'm saying, but I do want to go home."

The hum around the air harmonized with one that grew in Nebula'a throat, "it's only natural. That was eventually every creature's executive concern that ever came through here. Comet Streak brought you here, that much I am certain of. She could also get you home, but I'm hoping on the goodness of your heart. You'll not abandon me or the innocent world above to just go home, Vany?"

Vantor shook his head, "no, but do you think you could get me home?"

"Perhaps, when my magic is more free to be used and I've rested my horn properly," she waved her hoof at him with a warm smile, "now go on, brave champion. Make haste for your important mission."

Vany yanked the door open and stepped outside.

No sun greeted, no stars, no moon. Only artificiaal light did for the first couple meters? Kilometers? He wasn't keen on distances by hand, but atop the lush grass and cobbled path was something he immediately regretted seeing.

"I'm glad you opened the door and not me," Vast Nebula was standing at his side now, looking at the hobbling group of slaved subjects.

Warriors in plates of steel and weapons of might, pegasi with taut bowstrings and arrows taking aim, and unicorns in embroidered cloaks that painted landscapes on their sides stood in a cohort.

And they were readying.

"Seems Comet had a gift she was preparing outside my door for me," Nebula's face flattened, she didn't want to show any weakness though her heart fled deeper so she could get this over with.

Her horn shined, almost blinding the comparatively short Vantor next to her. The green grass wilted away, the ponies in front crumpled over, smelled offensively bad, and then their equipment caved down empty. Nebula's horn dimmed back to show she returned to the normal stasis spell.

Her breaths were labored.

"There...that should allow you to travel. Take a lantern from the castle wall. Once you trot yourself far enough, you'll be in almost blackness."

Witnessing the horrifying event of rapid aging, Vantor's mind wandered while he passively retrieved one hooded lantern, "where is Comet Streak?"

Nebula huffed out, "I truly do not know. She could be anywhere having slowly moved against my magic."

He nodded at her answer before Nebula reached with her hooves and tied the lantern to his hip with ribbon, "go on, Vany. I trust in you."

He couldn't manage words, still in shock as what he had witnessed. If she didn't trust him, she could vaporize him in an instant. He could always stumble upon Comet Streak and ask for a one way ticket home. Which meant she was taking a huge risk on him.

Vantor moved himself forward, through the dust remains of steel plate, armors, weapons, ponies. It was a pledge to just how old Vast Nebula could be. The grey flakes fluffed in a cloud that dispersed and followed the air trail he left behind him as he moved on. The grains were the only indication that something still stood there, even the cobblestone path was eroded significantly.

“Good luck and don’t take risks on my behalf,” Vast Nebula walked back into the capital of this underground kingdom, leaving the door cracked open.

Vantor was now alone in his solitude as he left the lights Queen Nebula was sustaining, journeying into the dark with the lantern to keep him company. The reflective hood helped to banish the darkness, but it was a very vast field he was walking into. He stuck to the stone paving to avoid getting lost, but if he didn’t know where he was really going he might as well be lost.

His eyes kept to the blocks of rock, calling back on that specific look Vast Nebula had. She was hiding something, deep deep down, something that made her very anxious. She’s maintaining the stasis, had she done something to force Comet Streak’s hooves? Maybe she’s only haunted by knowingly destroying her entire kingdom.

No, she’d have millions of moons to come to peace with that, this was something that must be an ongoing issue and she didn’t seem too concerned that he would fail in finding an exit and returning with help. In fact, she was more confident in his abilities than he was. His mind kept looping back, on and on, about what her anxiety could possibly be about.

Then he remembered, she offered him Comet Streak’s diary and her own. Therein might be the answer to her worried eyes. It could be possible they hide a secret or a confession of a sin, but she must not be concerned if she gave it to him. That meant he’d maybe need to do some detective work to figure it out.

While he stared at the ground, he failed to notice a stone wall coming up until he almost ran into it. His eyes traced around it and up it. A tower of some sort, as lonely as him in the darkness. After chasing around it, he found some stairs leading up and up. Of course, the first thing he came to wouldn’t be a spiral staircase leading out, but this solitairy tower did provide something useful.

A map, albeit with no detailed instructions beyond markings of stone roads and names of places. Vantor looked around, peering as best he could in the darkness and did actually see some places well lit with a orange magic glow. The unicorn who had attacked him had a similar magic color.

Comet Streak’s work?

No, that can’t be right. She’s in stasis. Then who was responsible? The orange glow wasn’t a color he’d seen before. He looked over the map more.

Capital Saddletta, that’s where he came from. Luckily he could use that to find his direction.

Balkburg, Cinchton, Novae’s Chaff, Fetlock Midway, Poll City. These names went on and on, there must be countless cities and towns and not all of them are even account for on this map according to the little note at the bottom. Not only was Vantor beginning to feel awfully small, he was feeling like this bit would be too big to chew. He still needed to get home, if not for work, for his family. Three days missing, police reports must have been sent in by now and search teams deployed.

Then again, he was in his twenties, perhaps they’d think he just took off with a friend or he’s trying to live large at the moment. His friends would probably question where he was themselves, given he’s the Dungeon Master of their games. Vantor strolled back down the tower, headed towards the location marked at Poll City if he had read this elementary map right. Weird that he must now be a play in Comet Streak’s campaign, setting up encounters against mind controlled ponies, wandering in the dark, discovering a whole city.

He shook his head as a white-gold orb whooshed past his head from the dark in front of him.

“What? God!” He ducked another one, pulling the gifted shield up to him. The third bolt crashed onto the artifact and the magic dispersed in a dazzling display of tiny sprites. It only felt like something had lightly tapped the shield.

He began to advance, seeing the unicorn come into the lantern light as he went. Same as the warrior he fought, eyes were pinpricks and it backed up slowly, firing faster and faster now. Vantor closed and stood in front of this unicorn, “sorry,” and punctured into its neck with the excellently crafted saber. He was used a simple phalanx tactic though he was not in a group of train soldiers. The unicorn stood a while longer before crumpling over, dying and bleeding out just a little before the stasis locked the pony up again. Seems Comet Streak could use some of her influence to break the spell of Vast Nebula, and at an alarming amount.

How long before the angry alicorn would scatter bits of him in the wind?

Vantor still didn’t quite know how he should be feeling while he looked at this unicorn. It was mercy killing but still killing. He thought it best not to linger on that too long. Nebula had told him they’d all die anyways, right? He couldn’t equate that to deer or rabbit or fish, it’s not hunting. They were sentient creatures.

Well, they were really more like zombies. They weren’t at all in their own minds when they came at him.

After an hour of stepping on stone, he passed by a perfectly preserved sign.

Poll City

And true to the name, it was tall. Towers rose up everywhere all over the place while the orange glow kept it lit. It was styled very differently from the castle he was just at, buildings were modest, decorations were more wild plants and lush greens rather than expensive pottery, precious metals, and the like. The towers, however, were orchestrated with giant glass windows on all sides. The panes were reflective, so there was no looking inside from the outside, but if he had to guess.

This is where the Highrise Suites are located. This is where those rich New Yorkers would be.

He waltzed into the city, thankfully finding it empty. There’d bound to be some threats around, but none right now. The more modest houses gave him the benefit of time-locked produce yet again. He’d use the shield as a basket, piling food onto it to eat later when he sat down for another rest. His smartphone battery was thankfully lasting a while, given it was only being used as a clock and not mindless entertainment while he sat through another work meeting or whatever.

Though he couldn’t really count on the time being accurate, he could count the passage of time with it. Vantor piled some of the stocked supplies up in a home with less windows, modest and simple and small. He dropped the diaries off as well before going about the old city, climbing up an orange lit tower of past elites.

And he found fancy furniture, wooden and carved, cushioned and brand new. Carpets that maybe would cause the runner rugs in the capital Saddletta to run green. There were even weapons hanging on walls. Vantor then had perhaps the silliest idea ever. Electricity was a constant of the world which means he could generate it. He figured copper wiring could be readily made or whatever.

So he took his phone out, confident he could recharge it and took a couple of pictures of the city. History down here must be lost, he thought, and if he could have some kind of proof to the ponies above, they might not treat him like he’s insane.

He clambered up tower after tower and clambered down tower after tower. If he was to find a way out, it must be by climbing up. Five failures in, he realized that must not be the case. That was the only kind of lead he really had, however, the diaries wouldn’t contain any information with helping him find a way out.

The sixth time, he struck the bad kind of gold. Golden and white colored magic shot at him from an open cavern that lead into the rocky roof of the Deep Lock. The shield vibrated as it took the blow for him, but as his eyes focused he could see the situation in front of him. He had climbed this entire tower just to find passage out this way was an impossibility.

Vantor fled with no hesitation, giving up on even attempting to exit that way. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of ponies lined up and ready to rain down on him with magic, arrows, and an arrangement of melee weaponry. He sighed out, heading back to the small home he claimed as a temporary setup. He barricaded the door and windows, now wary that Comet Streak might go hunting for him.

All those high fantasy movies he watched with his dad were nothing like this. They didn’t feel like this. This felt terrifying, it felt like a throat that was always dry and palms that were always sweaty. It felt like his legs were more tired than a normal jog to the store an back as a teenager. It felt wrong.

But he had another thing in mind that might take his thoughts away from possible death to a world away from this world. Vantor sat down on the simple bed of the single bedroom of the home, opening up Comet Streak’s diary and Vast Nebula’s side by side. Thankfully, both them were very organized and dated their entries. Vantor wasn’t used to counting days, moons, seasons, and eras; months, days, years were the norm. He did however notate that Vast Nebula’s diary started on First Moon, First Day, Autumn, Era of Alicorns?. He flipped to the same date as Comet Streak’s diary, everything up until that point was just childhood, daily life, common conflicts, nothing of the big issue he wanted to grasp. Maybe it could provide insight in how Comet Streak thinks so he could find a way past that barricade of ponies? The more mundane entries before it could do so, too, but he didn’t think it’d be very likely to happen.

Vantor knew there were many citizens of the Deep Lock. For so many to be in one place just to ensure he couldn’t get out this place must really be as massive as that rudimentary map leads to believe. He wanted a break from the monotony that capitalism offered. This was it, but wasn’t by any means the chocolate bar of choice for a break.

Comet Streak must have loved using a diary judging from how much thicker hers was than her sister’s. Vantor started reading on with Vast Nebula’s first and would read through Comet Streak’s next.

We’re still deciding what to call this era, but the citizens announced along with their mayors that our alliance should be turned into a giant kingdom to be headed by me, my sister, and my brother. When all three of us popped wings out of our backs after...

And he settled in to read.

Author's Note:

By Equestria, I tried really hard on this chapter and couldn’t quite get it the way I wanted to write it. Feels like not enough action happened in it, but I wanted it to conclude with the sense of real danger Vantor is in. I spent so long editing it so it definitely didn’t come out as quick as some of my other things.