...
I am writing this under an appreciable mental strain, for as of this night, I shall be no more. I have finally broken. As the bonds of reality I have chosen to believe in crumble to dust, I cannot help but ask myself, if this is really what I have strived for. Events set into motion years ago are now taking their toll; years of buildup leading to a conclusion so terrifyingly familiar, that I shudder to think of what they will bring. And yet even now, as I have full knowledge of what is to come, I cannot force myself to stop any of this. My will has been drained from me to the point that making a decision as simple as writing this down was like trying to reverse the flow of time itself. My conscience is begging me to try and stop this madness, yet at the same time my primal urges want me to help hasten what is to come. I am torn apart, my mind in no condition to make decisions, only to watch and wait as the inevitable comes.
The night is coming. For the first time since I can remember, I dreaded what the shadows that come with it would bring. I, the Princess of the Night itself, am dreading my own domain, wishing for the day to last a little longer. My mind is consumed with fear, blinding and paralyzing, spurring my heart into galloping in my chest. As I watch the sun slowly traverse the celestial spheres, descending with each passing second to the wretched horizon, I can see the parallels to my own downfall in its trek. With the eyes of my mind I recall all that has happened to bring me where I am now, forcing me to relive the events that led me to my decision.
I have but a few moments left to write down what are to be my last words. I fear that with so little time it will not be enough, I am sure of it. I am not even certain if I should be writing this down, or who will find this note and read it. Will it be you, my Sister? Is it going to claw at your already weary heart with words of bitterness and sorrow? Or will it be a random servant, stumbling on the last remnants of a once great lunar deity, containing knowledge not meant for mortals? Or maybe no one should? Maybe it would be for the best if the history of my downfall would not see the light of day, buried in the annals of history and forgotten by all? Such great is my confusion in these most final of moments, that I cannot make a decision as simple as that.
Most certainly you find this letter to be strange already. We are after all the one that speakest in the most strict of manners. Never before have you witnessed me sullying my royal lips with the way the commoners speak, not using the royal 'we' nor the proper way Equestrian should be spoken. I was always the strictest when it came to our language, one of the few small prides I had. Yet now, in the face of what is to come I could care less about it, and most probably I never will again.
There are times that I think my own manor of speaking was one of the reasons that led me where I am now. It was a mask that separated me from others and helped me hide my feelings from the world. A mask I used to distance myself from others. A mask without which I dreaded to speak with anypony. That is why for the last couple of weeks I have decided to communicate only by letters. It is after all easier to hide your true feelings behind dozens of emotionless sentences, written in a form so formal and bureaucratic that it left no room for interpretation.
Oh, the irony! Even now, as I am writing this I have chosen paper as a means of relaying my thoughts. I have never been one to readily face ponies. To do such a thing for me was to go against my own nature. That is why I have chosen letters as my preferred means of communication. They convey much more than simple speech could ever hope to; the art of the written word is much deeper than most think, full of mysteries and secrets still uncovered, and yet it will spare you the horrors of interacting with your interlocutor.
It takes a lot of effort to understand both levels of a written message. First you have to understand the meaning of the words that you are reading. Only then can you look deeper into it, try to understand the hidden meanings and read between the lines; to truly understand what you are reading, you must glimpse into the mind of the author, to know what he was thinking while he wrote them down. The power of the written word, the power to look into the mind and soul of another, it is both wonderful and terrifying.
Equestria, my country, thou art like health; how much thou shouldst be prized only she can learn who has lost thee. Thy beauty in all its splendor I see for the last time and describe, for I yearn for thee.
As I peer through the window of my tower I am able to see. The wooded hills, green meadows stretching far and wide beneath the mountains; fields painted with various grain, gilded with wheat, silvered with rye; where grows the amber mustard, the buckwheat white as snow, where the clover grows with a maiden's blush, where all is girdled as with a ribbon by a strip of green turf on which here and there rest quiet pear-trees.
Night is coming
The land however, as marvelous as it is, would be nothing if not for those who inhabited it. The ponies, Celestia’s and my subjects, they were the salt of this earth, the true gems of our land, who shone, shine, and will be shining ‘till the end of times. As I gaze upon our land, I can see their settlements dotting the landscape, small villages and bustling cities alike, and the thousands of ponies living in them in peace and harmony; harmony brought by the fall of the foul Discord and his chaotic reign. To see them all, cheerful and happy, free from that monster’s power -it all gave purpose to Celestia’s and my struggle.
Our rule over our subjects was fair and just, bringing forth stability, peace, and prosperity to our lands. Ponies across Equestria loved us for what we did, for it was the first time in eons when they did not need to fear for what the future had in store. My sister took control over the Sun, while I have taken the Moon into possession. We were controlling the timespan of day and night, regulating it according to our plans and in so doing aiding our subjects, be it growing crops or lengthening the days so that more could be done. We worked like a well-oiled machine, like one organism; our symbiotic coexistence giving ponies an example to follow. We helped each other when we had problems, we supported one another in times of great need. We could always depend on ourselves. The best sisters imaginable. Oh, where did those times have gone to, why did it all have to change? I miss those times dearly now, my heart aching with sadness, longing for a time when all was much simpler. Oh, how I wish we could be united once more by a common effort; how I wished to once more live in the paradoxical times after Discord's reign, when the more there was for us to do, the easier life seemed to be.
Why have I not confronted you about this earlier? There is no simple answer to that question. I want to ask You for forgiveness, my dear sister. I want to ask You to forgive me, yet I cannot forgive myself. If I could take back what I have done, if we could just talk, I am sure we could have come to an agreement, that this all could be resolved in a peaceful, civilized manner. What I have planned for myself, the fate I have prepared for myself, I know it will not end well, not for You, and not for me. Yet even now, as I write this down, waiting for what has been set into motion by my foolishness, and being perfectly aware of the magnitude of my actions, I cannot force myself to speak with you. Even though I know a direct confrontation between the two of us would be preferable, even if you would decide to cut all ties with me thereafter, it is already too late to change what is to come.
Even though the times that have came after Discord fell were becoming increasingly difficult for me to cope with, I would not wish for his reign to ever return. Under his rule so many did suffer, so many lives had been lost for the simple pleasure of a deranged mind of that tyrant. And even after his fall, after he had no longer any sway in the world, the damage he has caused was too great to leave unattended. The combined powers of my sister and I was not enough to alleviate the sufferings of our subjects, not enough to fix all the damage the draconequus has caused. Not at once at least.
In the following years we have strived to repair what we could, to bring back harmony to our land and our people. Over time, our efforts have borne fruit. Much of what was damaged now stood as good as new, and so the amount of work before us has decreased immensely. Like a collapsing roof that once repaired needed not the support beams to stand, so did Equestria have no need for two princesses to help save it from ruin. There was little need for us to have common duties, so we have split them between us in a peaceful manner. Celestia chose to be the representative one, to be the one to face ponies directly. She always was better in direct contacts with those that we pledged to protect. I placed my throne in the shadows, taking care of things that no common pony could fathom have even existed.
It was during that period of time that we have built our first royal castle and settled in it, creating the official seat of our government. Celestia cared little for it, always being somewhere else; helping ponies during droughts and rescuing citizens during floods, she almost never set hoof in our new home. I however almost never left the confines of our castle, living in near total solitude, solitude broken only by the occasional political figure desiring an audience with one of us. And so I was left on my own, lost in a never-ending whirlwind of work, responsible for our country's welfare, setting up laws and taking care of the economy, taking care of everything.
Night While you were fighting for the wellbeing of our subjects, Celestia You also earned fame and the trust of our people. Soon, I became no-one, a shadow that nopony looked twice at. While You were traveling across the land, earning our subject's trust and love, I was left alone to my solitude.
However… no. The word "solitude" does not convey the meaning properly. I was not wandering through the halls of our castle alone. There was a force of ponies living there alongside me. Still, not one of them could I call a "friend". Some of them were servants, some of them were guards, yet with none of them was I able to create a bond of friendship, or even simple camaraderie. I cannot rightfully say which side was more guilty of this state: was I not trying hard enough, or maybe the ponies I tried to approach were trying to avoid me? The point is however…
…that being alone not necessarily means being the only pony in a few mile radius. You can be in the middle of a crowd of cheerful ponies and feel as though you were the only living being in the world…
I strived to change the nature of things. I reasoned, that I just needed some space and time for myself. I even wanted to overcome my lack of social skills and try to socialize with our subjects, to try and find somepony I could share my interests with. To do so however I needed to leave the castle, and to do that -I needed to reschedule a fair bit of my appointments. Unfortunately, that proved harder than I anticipated.
"I am deeply sorry, your highness, but that cannot be done." was the answer I received from my head councilor. “It is simply impossible to move even one of these appointments. What example would it give others? What would the ambassadors think of us?”
It was a waste of breath to even ask. Even though he was perfectly polite about it, I knew the hidden meaning behind those words:
“In your dreams.”
He could not have predicted how accurate those words would be.
The ponies I could relate to all lived far, far away from my solitude. As the Princess of the Night I was obliged to watch over dreams of ponies… and their nightmares. I met them through their slumbers, for if I were to reach them normally, I could not do so because of the sheer distance that separated us. Those that I have met seemed to share the same interests as I did. They loved the night skies I had worked so hard to perfect, oftentimes stargazing for hours at a time, taking great pleasure in my celestial creations. They lived their nights lives in the soft shadows I created, preferring them to the sharp glare of Celestia's sun. We shared common views and had similar likes, we also more often than not agreed on matters we tended to discuss. Those who I chose became my close friends. For the first time in my life, I could actually say I had true friends.
Over time the list of names grew larger as I happened upon the dreams of more and more ponies sharing my likes and views. I will never forget their names. Shining Star, Blue Comet, Red Harvest…
For the first time in years I did not feel loneliness in my heart. For the first time I did not fear the path towards the future, knowing that I would not trot upon it alone. Yet I did not foresee that time would not be my ally, and that the one gift that makes me different from other ponies would lead me to where I am now.
Immortality.
My friends, the ponies that saved me from my loneliness... they were aging. With each passing year they were slower, weaker, older. I could do nothing to stop it, nor was Celestia able to do anything about it. She tried reasoning with me about the issue, tried to explain that it was the way nature worked and that there was no sense in trying to fight it. But if aging and dying was natural, then what are we, who were exempts from time's lethal influence? What right did we have to state something was natural, when we ourselves were so detached from the order of the world? What could we, who are not connected to the Wheel of Life, know about it?
Losing friends is never easy, especially if you lose them to death. It is only normal to feel sorrow and helplessness in the face of such tragedy. Yet for me this was much, much different. Having the power to raise the Moon and light a thousand stars in a blink of an eye and yet be powerless in the face of one’s death, the deaths of my friends tasted twice as bitter. What added salt upon my wounds was my inability to even attend their funerals. The distances I would need to traverse, the work that my advisors insisted could not wait... It shattered my heart into a million pieces time and time again, and made me loathe myself for doing this, but the most I could do was write down my condolences and send them to their families.
I had not felt so hurt in all of my life. My friends, the only ponies that understood me, had died, leaving me to my loneliness and sorrow. There was not a day that I did not think of them, recalling the time we had spend in their dreams and reminding myself, that those times would never come again to be. Finally, the gravity of the situation has caught up to me.
I was alone again.
It was in that time of sorrow that I have received a particular letter from Celestia. My dear, oblivious sister, in a show of total disregard of the state I was in had came up with the idea of moving to a much grander palace, one that would be befitting of our position. She wanted to build the castle on the cliffs to the northwest, and had decided to ask of my opinion on the matter. As I was still grieving over my friends, being asked my opinion on something as trivial as that made me almost explode with rage. I wanted to yell in her face that she basically did not spend any time in the palace to begin with, that she basically abandoned me in the old, dark corridors of this stone solitude, and that she was so detached from what was going on in our home, that she did not even know I was in dire need of comforting. I wanted nothing more than to tell her to shove her idea where even her sun doesn't reach, but I didn't. I could not bring myself to hurt my sister, to hurt her feelings. Despite how betrayed I have felt, I could not show nor tell Celestia the truth. Irrational fear gripped my heart and refused to let go, so I finally gave in to it. I wrote a reply to her, saying that I thought that her idea was simply splendid, and that we should most definitely do just that.
Now I am not sure if it was a good decision
As years went on I was slowly recovering from the pain of my friends' deaths. From our correspondence I knew that Celestia, despite how much I refused to believe it, had also underwent very similar experiences. I have learned that she also had made friends in our subjects, and that she also had experienced those friends' deaths. I even had learned that there were times when she was seriously depressed by their departures. That she was not much different from me. Yet my sister possesses a much stronger character than I could ever hope to have, and she was handling the pain much better than I. She frequently sent me letters in which she described the ponies that had passed away, their tone gloom and depressed. Yet it only took her a week or two to be back to herself and informing me that she managed to make new friends with which she mended the cracks in her heart. I on the other hoof cloud not bring myself to do such a thing. The memories of those that have passed on were burnt in my mind, and I could not force myself to replace them with anypony else. I… I feared the pain of losing them again. I did not want to live through that agony again, it was simply too much for me to bear. I decided therefore to distance myself from all, tried never again to sympathize with anypony. I decided to never again risk feeling the agony of losing a friend.
I have chosen the way of a coward.
Trying to escape the loneliness I have condemned myself to I chose to sacrifice myself to my work. I have flung myself into a frenzy of creation, working on the night sky and all that is associated with it. It was in that period of time that I had made the most progress within my domain, my almost fanatical zeal leading me to several stellar successes; I have managed to create several complicated constellations, gave birth to a multitude of comets, and even formed entire nebulae. I have also gotten better at handling all the paperwork I was required to do, managing to complete it in short order and finally getting some free time to myself. I was finally starting to enjoy my life and spend time on what I really wanted to do.
I should have known it would not last.
For me to state what have happened next, I need to first describe the castle I spent those last few years. The palace was built just years after Discord fell, in a time when ponies still tried to recuperate from his chaotic reign. It was a time when the society was slowly rebuilding itself, and finding skilled craftsponies bordered on a miracle. The palace was therefore designed by amateurs, and as such it was far from perfect.
Constructed from the dark-grey stones mined from Mt. Dawn (oh, sweet irony!), the castle was far from beautiful or functional. Its corridors meandered like a snake, some twisting into loops, others ending with dead ends. Windows were scarce and few, blanketing the interior in darkness and shadows. It was also relatively small for a seat of government, a fact that foreign dignitaries did not fail to point out. Still, the air this fortress had to, the aura of mystery it gave off combined with the shadowy interior was something that I was quite fond of. As the Princess of the Night I preferred the darkness to the glaring light of my sister's sun, and the confusing layout of the palace reflected quite well the complexity of a sleeping mind, a thing I grew to know all too well. Still, living in a castle that was more like a maze to our visitors was less than optimal, especially when dealing with foreign dignitaries. It was probably the one reason why I did not protest to Celestia's idea of building a new one.
As Celestia was more of a guest in the castle than a resident, the throne room had only one throne. Despite its rather uncomfortable stone base I liked it immensely, spending most of my time on it. Sitting on it gave me the feeling of being important, of being on par with my sister. If I could help it I tried not to leave the throne room, doing all of my work there, from writing letters to discussing politics with my advisors and the envoys of neighboring nations. And although most of the time the throne room was empty, save for me and a pair of guards at the̦͈̠͝ doors, I did not f̘̪͚eel as lonesome here as I felt anywhere else.
Night. It's closer. The gold of the sun will turn blood red soon. Night. Night.
One of the nights nights nights, while I was reading through yet another report I saw something quite odd in the corner of my eye. On the verge of my field of̬̬ vision, hidden in the shadows stood a tall, slender figure.
At first I thought that it was just one of the servants and I did not pay i҉̤̭̱̼t much heed. The figure was harmless and hardly threatening, so I ignored its presence and concentrated on my work. However as the days passed, the mysterious figure seemed adamant on spending all of its time standing still, unmoving, and always in the exac̼̪͎̤̺͍̱͡t same spot, watching me from the shadows passively. After a week of this situation repeating every single night I began to feel uneasy. I have asked all the servants and all of my guards if they also saw this mysterious pony, but each time I received the same exact answer. No-one could see it. No-one but me…
What once was only but a nui҉̤̭̱̼sance quickly became something much more. Where once I could only see the figure standing in the shadows of the throne room, now I saw it wherever I went. It was following me, lurking in the shadows and always watching, always passively watching. No matter where I went I was always followed by it, silently, passively… eerily.
I told myself that it was nothing. That it was just my weary mind playing tricks on me. I was overworking myself, stressing myself more than it was healthy, and this was the effect. I reasoned that if only I would limit my workload and took a few days easy, it would disappear, and my mind recuperate. Unfortunately, it was not so.
The first day after I went to bed early, I have awoke̦͈͝n to the sweet scent of apples. While I was asleep a servant brought a basket full of the delicious fruit and left it on the nightstand. I knew full well that I did not request them to bring me any food, so once I saw the first servant that day I asked who told them to bring me those apples. The answer I received was not what I was expecting.
It was me. I asked for apples that day. I asked for them, though I could not remember doing so. But it made no sen̋́͌̈̋se! How was I able to give an order and yet not remember doing so? A mind such as mine was not prone to lapses in memory, and yet I apparently had forgotten I did something.
As days passed it became apparent that it was not an isolated incident. I knew not how nor when, but I was apparently giving out an increasing amount of orders I did not recall giving. Guards shifted their posts seemingly at random, but once confronted by me they claimed to be following my directions. Meals were delivered to my room in spiť͙̠̹̼̩͌͗ͣ̚e of me not ordering anything. Once I even woke up to find a necklace with a likeness of an alicorn on my nightstand, yet I did not in fact order any jewelry for the better part of a century. And even though I have grown fond of it and wear it even now, it still was a sign of something playing a cruel prank on me.
I had enough of this. I needed to find out for myself what was really going on. I knew it had̫̖͕ something to do with that slender figure, it must have held the answers to my lapses of memory. I just needed to find it and confront it. And soon enough I had the perfect opportunity to do so.
I waited for the night to come. In daytime, the figure did not appear; it preferred the shadows of the night, it thrived in them. The night night however is my domain, and no amount of shadows would be able to hide it from me. I was going to be like a̴͎̟̮͍̫ specter, a specter that was going to stalk the ghost that haunted me. I would not fail.
I gave all of my paperwork to my advisors and silenced their protests with a mighty glare. I also ordered the captain of the guard to keep the servants from the corridors. I could not be certain how it would end, and if the figure decided to resort to violence, somepony could get hurt, and that was something I wanted to prevent. The captain and the guards from the night shift were taken aback by those orders, but I did not care. I had to know.
I am not sure if I had lost my mind at that moment, or had it happened a little later, but the point is that I could not think of anything else. All of my thoughts revolved around the haunt that was ruining my life. I could not eat, I could not sleep… I needed to ge͓̜̞͈t to the bottom of this and finally get rid of that specter, one way or another.
It appeared in the throne room again. As always it appeared in the most shadowy part of the chamber. This time however I did not ignore it. I lunged at it as quickly as I possibly could, trying to tackle it to the ground. The figure however was not as still as it was before, and once it noticed my movement it began running away. Cursing my luck I began chasing after it, trying to catch up to it.
The darkness served it well, m̧̮̟̗asking its identity from me and providing a hiding place like no other. Still, it was my domain, and I was not going to be deterred by it. I chased after it, noting its slender yet eerily familiar built, and I noticed that whoever or whatever it was, it was wearing a cape and a hood. With every passing moment it became more and more apparent that I was not in fact chasing after a phantom or ghost, but after a living, breathing creature.
We ran through several corridors and chambers, the figure knowing full well where it was going. It spend so much time in the castle that it must have memorized its layout I reasoned, and it was in superior athletic shape, easily avoiding capture on several occasions. Still, I did not want to surrender that easily. I had to know.
As we ran through the library I was presented the perfect oppo̫̖̱͚͖rtunity. The figure ran between bookshelves, obviously trying to lose me that way. Where the figure saw an opportunity to escape me however, I saw an occasion to end this. Focusing my magic, I lurched one of the bookshelves in front of it, blocking its path. Before the figure was able to figure out a way to pass it, I was already on it. Tackling it to the groun̛̝̣̠̩̥͕͚d, I tore its hood from its head and looked for the first time in the face of my stalker.
I froze in terror once I saw who it was.
It was me! ME! ME͘! NIGHT
I stared in a face that belonged to me. I stared in eyes that were the same as mine. The horn on its forehead, long and sharp, and its wings folded u͚͍͓̹͘nderneath its cloak… t͚͉̤͍̻̤͔here was no doubt in my mind. It was I.
I stared at my face for the longest of times, my expression mirroring my own, confusion written all over it. I knew not what to do, for this was a situation far more confusing than anything I have encountered in the eons of my life. What should I do, what should I say? Should I even say anything at all? If this was me, and sure of it I was, then what was I?
I blinked, confused, trying to come up with something, anything to do or say. Yet in that short moment when I was not looking, when my eyes were covered by my own eyelids, it managed to elude me. Where one I lied, pinned by myself, there was only the stone of the library floor. I swear it was but a fragment of a second, and yet my twin managed to escape me, like if it never was there, like if it was nothing more than smoke and shadows.
Never before was I so confused as back then. I spent the next half a minute just standing there, trying and failing to process what my mind was providing me with. Beneath my hooves there was Luna, and now she was gone. Yet I am Luna, and I am still here. How could that be?
Like through a thick, suffocating fog I was barely able to hear the sound of approaching hooves. Turning around, hoping to catch a glimpse of my twin I have looked at the doors from behind which the sound was coming. Yet my hopes (or should I say fears?) had not come to pass, for it was not Luna that went through the door. Instead a force of my loyal guards had run into the library, each of them panting and looking q̙̤͖uite weary yet each of them carefully surveying the chamber, their training winning over their fatigue. Their leading officer, who also was the commander of the night shift approached me still keeping alert and asked a simple question of me.
"Who were you chasing, your majesty?"
I cou̦̣̟̗̞ld not force myself to tell him the truth. Even I knew that what I saw was impossible. The only thing that I could do then was to lie. I lied that I saw a pony that did not belong to the staff, that it was a spy of some sort, doing what nefarious deeds spies do. The answer seemed to satisfy the commander, though he stated that he neither nor his men had seen anypony. He promised however to increase the security, and with that promise made he and his subordinates returned to their posts.
I could not sleep that da͖͞ͅy, my mind in too much turmoil for me to relax. Thoughts of the second Luna were keeping me awake the whole night, giving me no time to rest. I could not stop thinking about what had happened that night, I could not stop trying to understand what had happened. But no matter how hard I tried, no matter how long I meditated over it I could not come to any logical conclusion. No matter how hard I tried, I could not answer any of my own questions. Every time I thought that I had finally figured something out it was but an illusion, for with each of those 'answers' came even more questions. The issue was draining me of my force, leaving me a husk of my former self, unable to understand what was happening around me and making me question my very own existence̢̝͉̺͓.
The next n̏̋͗̅̏͋ight I ordered my guards to stand where the other Luna usually appeared. I hoped with all my heart that it would be enough to stop her from manifesting. That whole night I have spent as they say 'on tenterhooks', waiting for her to appear and both hoping and dreading her return. I desperately wanted to prove to myself, that I was the one true Luna, yet I did not want to face the possibility of being…
She did not appear that night. I had spent the whole night court in the illusion of peace, waiting for her to appear, yet she did not. I sighed with relief; the nightmare was over and I could finally live my life in peace.
At this point I ask myself: is it not the most wonderful of gifts, the inability of a pony mind to correlate all of its contents? Is in not true, that the stupidest pony is also the happiest one? The more you know, the more reality seems to overwhelm you. If it is at all possible, it is better to live on the island of ignorance beyond the black sea of infinity.
I should have stayed ignorant of the specter. I should not have chased after it. I should have ignore it and wait for it to abandon me on its own. I should have let it vanish from my existence on its own accord.
What have I dŏne?
The sun starts to collapse… the rays of sunlight grow weaker…
Celestia! Why have I not chosen to come under your protection? Why?! Why did I chose night this fate for myself!? Why did I chose… n҉͕ight?
Do you remember the letter that you have written me? The one where you had asked about my health? I have responded that I was well.
I lied.
I saw myself everywhere. I saw myself in every corner, in every shadow. I was not sure
If I was̻̟̠̥̠͇͖̕
The one
That was tru̜̮̹̤e.
I have finally broken, my mind snapping like a twig under a hoof. I have lost my mind. I did not know if my shadow was my own, or if it was of somepony else. I did not know who I was, What I was.
The moments of clarity were the most horrifying. I have locked myself in my chamber, hoping to spare the servants, my subjects, the sight of a fallen princess. I wanted to distance myself from them, for I did not know if I could hurt them and then forget about it. I knew it would not bring any good to the land, that without my lead it would fall into chaos, that it would force you to seek me out and confront me and my madness. Yet it did not happen. Equestria was ruled as efficiently as ever. Nopony seemed to notice my absence. It was like if I still ruled, as if I never locked myself in my chambers. I supposedly even successfully represented Equestrian interests during the meeting with the Griffin ambassadors. I did not even know they were in Equestria!
Was I even Luna? Have I been the true one? Or am I only just a reflection of somepon̴͕͔̗̰͕y else? Is it I who is the copy? Am I only a figment of imagination? Do I even exist?
I asked myself what was happening to me, Why was it happening to me. I could not find the answers I was seeking, for I knew too little to wager a guess. I have decided to cast off the shackles of ignorance and seek out the light of truth. False light it would appear, for it led me to my inevitable downfall.
My isolation did nothing to disrupt the work of the castle staff. They were working as efficiently without my guidance it seemed… or they were guided by me, and I just did not recall it. Was I truly even needed? The specter, the second Luna… it seemed that she managed everything on her own as well as I did. But what was she? Was she a figment of my imagination, a projection of my own mind? Was she a hallucination of a overworked mind? Or was she something more sinister, more real. Or maybe… maybe she ṱ̭̘̱̻͝ruly was me?
Maybe I am the specter, and she is the original. Was I the true one, or was I not?
Did it even matter?
Sister! Why did you abandon me in my time of need?! Why have you left me to my s͖̗̟͖olitude, to the confines of my mind, in the smallest prison imaginable? Why did you leave me in a stone mausoleum, where I slowly wait for my mind to wilt? Am I not deserving of your attention? Am I an obstacle that you wish to get rid of? You think only of yourself and your precious little ponies, you have forgotten about me, sacrificed me for the good of creatures below us! If you truly was my sister, if you truly loved me I just wish you could be here, I just wish you would hug me tightly as I cry myself to sleep.
I have thought that I was certain that ḭ̡ͅt could not get any worse, but it did. I knew it now, I knew full well that the specter was the original mirror image of myself. Me She It was now everywhere. Wherever I looked she it is there, silently watching me from afar. She It lurked in the shadows, stalked my every move. The darkest corners of my chamber were where it thrives, the shadows were where it lives. It was always beside me yet always out of reach. It stayed too far for me to see it's face and features, though to see them I did not need. I knew full well how it looks.
It was appearing more often with each passing day. There were times that I could not live a minute without seeing it in the shadows, silent as ever. I… was getting used to its presenc̄̈́̇e. I started to ignore it, started to treat it as a part of my life like I treat air as a part of it.
It seemed to work at first. The specter was unchanging, but I was getting used to it. I was starting to think about leaving my chamber, to once again take control over my life. But then it starţ̌ed to get closer. With each passing day it was closer and closer, each time I blinked it was closing the gap between us, yet it still was the same unmoving, silent self. I knew deep down in my heart, that to try to run from it would be futile. It was one with the shadows, and wherever I went it would surely follow. Yet still, I tried to ignore its presence, to ignore its existence. I tried to get used to it once more, and it seemed to work once again.
It wä̀s then I have heard the voice.
Shadows grow even longer. Darkness is spreading across the infinite sky. Soon, the red sun shall set.
I could not discern if the voice I was hearing was my own, my thoughts spoken aloud, or the whisperings of the mysterious specter. Maybe it was both? Maybe it was the specter speaking through m̧ͤ̂̄̓͆͌y voice? Was it even possible for a creature as old as me to have its own sanity evolve and change, creating a new entity impossible to define? Did the laws of nature and the might of magic even allow for a tiny piece of reality be warped by a twisted, shattered mind of a deity?
Did I have power to create life?
The idea of informing Celestia or anypony else did not cross my mind. As bȩͤfore, my mind did not perceive the possibility of telling about my predicament. But why did I not do it? As I am writing these words I have came to realize that I have made a grave mistake. My ignorance, my stupidity… it will be the end of me. But it is too late to change anything. Soon, Night will come. Night Night Night
The N͂͗ͪ͗͊ͣight! The one most splendid, glorious thing on the face of this world! More beautiful than the finest painting, older than time itself! One cannot comprehend the full richness of the night sky, so full of detail and mysteries, so devastatingly beautiful in comparison to the bland and boring daytime. For those who do not admire the work of my life, for those who prefer the dullness of day and choose to ignore the work of countless of centuries I have nothing but contempt. How arrogant and foolish of them, to prefer Celestia and her one measly sun, when my opus consists of countless of stars, each as bright as her own and each out of her reach to control. It is not her that should be respected, it is I!
I could not discern what the whisper was at first. It was too soft, too unclear to understand. But soon enough it gained in volume, and as it did… as the words became clear… I finally understood.
It was I! It was I all along! I was the True one, I was the Real one. It was all so simple! The voice, the specter, it was all part of me! Those were MY thought! I have no right to ignore them, nor to deny their existence! I had to embrace it, for it were OUR thoughts, OUR intentions true. As we truly embraced ourselves existence, as we linked at a level nopony could comprehend, we crossed the sea of ignorance and ignited the flame of understanding and rationality over the shadowy dark expanse of ignorance. WE WERE TRUE!
I cannot deny the existence of something, that came purely out of my heart and soul. Who would I be if I would qͨͧͭ̑̒̅̇͢uestion my very own existence? What would I become if I would not listen to it? I have always seen others as being higher in priority, I have sacrificed my life for them. But not anymore. It is I that count the most! Not my subjects, not Ce
Sister, what I have done!? This
Is clearly
Insane!
I have felt ME SHE IT stalking me every single second, whispering into my ear withou̟̲t pause. I was feeling my sanity drain, I could feel it being eclipsed by the shadow of its presence! I could feel drain from my mind like water from a peaceful bay, foretelling the coming of a devastating tidal wave! I could not escape it, I had no way to defeat the nightmą̖̲̳̟̠̖re that was̼͖̝͇̬… I͎̬̅̏ͣͭ̍̂.
I have found it in the garden.
This is it… Night shall soon reign…
The castle has͔̥̥ only one garden. It is well kept by the few gardeners that we employ, its beauty almost rivaling that of the Night sky. A number of gravel paths crossed the garden, leading to different parts of the enclosed, artificial grove. Plants of different kinds dotted its expanse, shrubs formed i̩̮͔͙̥͈n small mazes and flowers bathing it with their sweet scents. Here and there grew mighty threes, that Celestia insisted we call 'relicts'. They were silent witnesses of history, remembering times before even the reign of Discord, and they would come to witness one more tragedy unfold.
The garden was lit only by a few small lanterns, each of them casting their soft glow on the grove. Their illumination̲͘ was weak however, and so the whole area was cast into darkness, brightened only by the cold yet magnificent light of the stars.
That day… it was yesterday… There were no sţ͚̣͎͕̥̱̘ars.
I did not know why it has c̵̙̮̯͎̘ho͝sen to come here. The only times that I have even ventured from the castle and into the garden was when I was deep in thought, meditating over matters that needed to be approached with utmost care. Surrounded by n̯͜ature my mind seemed to sober, granting me ease of thought and allowing me to take decisions that in normal circumstances I would be deliberating at for hours. I have never once regretted any second I have s̀pent there.
There I was, sitting near a p͚̮̱̙͔̹̪ond of water as clear and crystal clean as boiling tar. I saw myself looking i̧̯͚̪͎n its depths, searc̣̰̰̖̞̲͟hing for answers as a moth seeks the light of the moon, only to fall in a trap of fire and death once it achieves it. I approached myself and looked myself in the eye. The blue iri̴̲̬̼̟͙ses as deep as the sea, the calm and noble face of mine, regal as the emperors of old and filled with pride of the ancients. It was a reflection of my very own soul, each detail of it as perfect as the Night.
We stare͝d beyond the lake of dark mists, casting our gazes at the horizon̦̺̫̰̗̻̱͡ in its depths. We stopped counting time, for it was but an illusion, a cruel illusion that had no sway on us. There, in that moment there was only I and I. Reality existed around us no more , shattering like a soul in the face of d̸̟̠̟̼̰eath's ire. There was only I, and the one that was me too. The only beautiful soul in the lake of blą͉̙͕̺ck nothingness.
We embraced one another as we gazed upon the inverted horizon. United at last, in a moment of familiarity I have forgotten existed and have longed for so long, I have seen the hope rising from the crashing waves of tar. It was a vision of the path that I had to go down, to end all this madness and retrieve my own freedom, yanking it out of the ravenous, gaping maw of the starving filly called ignorance. It was a vision that would lead me̜̻̞̞͍ to peace and a well-deserved rest.
”What do we want?" I asked. I answered.
"The Night. This Night, and every upcoming one."
"What is Night?"
"Night is us, when we are united as one."
"If the night shall last forever, will we be one as well?"
I did not answer. My heart started beating with all the might of a raging dragon, blood in my ears a cac̵ophony of beats, and my eyes threatened to leak ou̠̲̮̻̤̟t tears of sparkly obsi̝̞̱̹͙ͅdian. The şun was pe̴͉̫aking up, showering my beautiful Night in its ignorant, thric̲̯̖̘̱e damned glow. It was defeating my sh̳̗̙̖̠̯̹adows, forci̫̞̪̺ng them to retreat out of this realm, b̧̬̮͉͚͔urning thḛm into nothing more tha͈̭̫n the sound of bloodcurdling sobs. I hugged Luna even harder, not wan̟̹̖t͔͙̳ing her to go.
"Yes. Yes, we shall be together till the end of time."
"Can I ask you something?"
"I am you, and you are me. We have no mysteries unrevealed."
"Why not earlier? Why have you not came to me earlier?"
I was silent for a moment.
"I have been here all along. We were together from your very birth. I have never left your side, and I will never leave you. Come the next Night we shall be truly united. But before we do that, there is a gift that I want to give you, Luna, a gift straight from your very own mind. All the answers you have ever sought, the truth that you wanted from the very beginning. Will you accept it?" I asked.
"Of course Luna, I will." I answered.
And then we embraced, our hearts touching the pendant I still wear, our horns uniting in one beacon of magic, lighting the flames of truth above the ocean of ignorance.
I awoke much later, the sun glaring at my form. It shone with contempt and malice, blinding me like it wanted to prevent me from reaching happiness. I knew why it wanted my downfall so much.
I
Know
The
Truth
It is the end. Now. Sun fell. There is no light. There is only darkness and me. My very form will collapse, ceasing to be.
The Night is here! NIGHT! Iä! Iä! NIGHT! N I G H T!