Unprepared for the spotlight, Luna finds herself ruling alone. Now the Princess of the Night must find the truth while defending the kingdom from political schemers, dark forces, and an endless night she no longer desires.
Celestia is in grave danger. Suddenly alone, Luna must struggle to get her bearings and keep the kingdom together in her older sister's stead, with little knowledge of the society that moved on without her in a millennia of imprisonment. Somewhere lurks an enemy, powerful and unknown, with malevolent intentions for Luna and her now slumbering sibling. Dark forces stir, schemers are setting plans into motion, and amid it all the night remains permanent though not by Luna's choice.
The Moon Princess intends to make her sister proud. That is, if she can keep herself together -and alive- long enough to see it through.
The longest, darkest night of Equestrian history has just begun.
Well, perhaps only a tad bit cross, now that the moon princess had gotten over her initial shock of having dropped the tiny ceramic cup. A once gleaming and beautiful piece of fine china, inlaid with flakes of diamond, had met a brutal end against the worn marble of Luna's balcony, dissolving into a hundred tiny pieces where it had struck and scattered, the dark contents spilled in a wide spray from the spot.
"You know, dear sister," Celestia would be likely to start off, "the mayor of Las Pegas would be most unhappy to see his gift being treated so mercilessly."
"Oh, hush," muttered the princess to herself, in no mood for the silly mock scolding her diurnal sister was so fond of giving, even if it was just imaginary scolding. To be honest, she was rather upset about the loss of the cup as well, if only because its contents were now splashed across the cold stone.
The cup had been one of a dozen, given to Princess Celestia as a gift during the time that Luna had been...away. As Tia explained it, the mayor of Las Pegas had gotten the idea that he could woo a princess with expensive gifts, but these cups had lain just as forgotten as the others until Luna had started to try to find uses for them.
The cup was expensive, but unmissed. Much worse was the loss of a particularly good brew of mint tea.
"Horsefeathers," the normally regally-composed princess muttered, though not without a tinge of guilt at her language over something so small. The etiquette of old was deeply ingrained in her, and though she had picked up on some modernizations, the tendency for modern ponies to curse was something Luna had conflicting thoughts on. It was so... undignified... but she couldn't help muttering choice foul words to herself as she learned them. Her favorite was 'horsefeathers'.
Perhaps she enjoyed the chance to finally be relatively uncouth without anyone caring.
The moon princess turned her attention to what had caused her to drop the cup in the first place: a twinge of startlement at nothing in particular that she could tell. Was she being jumpy? Perhaps she was… it’d been a busy night and, though exhausted, Luna was still somewhat jittery. At any moment she expected to have to set out again and see to the protection of her little ponies. But no… she’d done enough tonight. In a short while her sister would be raising the sun, and then the nightly troubles would become her older sibling’s daily headache.
At least for the next twelve hours, mused Luna. She’d asked her sister to go through the trouble of setting the moon as well, as a favor so that she could finally relax, and she had a feeling that Celestia would make sure to extract some form of payment from her at some point. Knowing her prankster of a sibling, that likely meant she’d leave some form of task left undone for tomorrow night, just for Luna.
The Moon Princess quietly sighed, casting her eyes from side to side to survey the damage, and decided that it wouldn’t be all that difficult to clean up herself. Before her...absence...she wouldn’t have hesitated to call somepony to clean the shattered remains in her stead. Now, given the somewhat more ‘leveled’ social standing of ponies, it seemed it would be irresponsible for her to not take up the task herself.
Luna called on her magic, and pale blue light radiated from her horn. Encircling the pieces of broken china in her magic, she started to pull them into one place, resolving to use a spell to repair the cup if she didn’t miss any pieces in pulling it all toget-
A sharp, sudden, and immense pain lanced from the tip of her horn all the way down, and Luna gave a startled gasp as though she’d been physically struck. It certainly felt like she had been. Her magic flickered and went out like a doused candle, and the alicorn recoiled backwards almost expecting something more to happen… but there was nothing more, save for a dull headache from the sensation.
Luna felt like something had touched her; the sensation was as though something had grabbed onto her horn and firmly yanked. The same sort of sensation as before, in fact, which had caused her to drop the cup in the first place. Was there something wrong with the cup? Was there something wrong with her?
Where her sister was unused to being under threat, the Moon Princess found such was a routine part of her duties in the night; she was suddenly awake and afire, preparing herself for what she felt might be inevitable attack. Surely, this must be the case. Night was not yet over, after all, and until the sun rose again there would be ...tasks to face.
A minute of silence passed, broken only by the distant sound of a chirping insect far below her balcony. Nothing came, nothing went, save for the dull ache in Luna’s horn.
Was she under attack? Had some nightmare followed her? Surely whatever it had been would have shown itself by now; it was exceptionally rare but sometimes things would, more or less, ‘follow her home’. Surely this must be the case?
What else could it be?
Still, only silence. The Moon Princess strained her senses, hoping for something to be revealed, and offer answer to the startlement just a moment ago, but yet still nothing happened.
At long last, she released a slow breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Perhaps she wasn’t under threat at all.
Luna tensed as she heard a resounding clatter and bang, from behind her. Through the door to her balcony, her bedchamber, and the foyer, she could see all the way to the heavy door of her chambers, which had just been thrown roughly and unceremoniously open.
A white-coated unicorn, clad in heavy golden plate, stood panting in the open doorway for a moment, looking around in desperation; a member of the Dayguard division of the Royal Guard, those that normally watched over Celestia and the castle during the daylight hours. “Princess Luna!” the stallion managed to get out.
Behind him shortly followed one of Luna’s own, a pale grey unicorn stallion who wore no helm, only his cuirass that bore the blue circle of the Nightguard. He had likely been preparing to change posts, as evidenced by the disarray of his kit. “What are you doing?!” the Corporal hissed, clearly not happy at all. “You can’t barge in on Her Majes-”
“Princess Luna!” called out the Dayguard again, reaching up and throwing his own helm to bang and clatter on the floor so he could better see without the metal getting in the way. He didn’t seem inclined to care about Luna’s doorpony whatsoever. Luna didn’t recognize him; she only knew the faces and names of perhaps a few of Celestia’s guards, and since her return she had little time to learn more than a dozen of the names of her own, a group that had been neglected and reduced to near extinction in her absence. Normally the details of such things was left to Celestia, or Prince Shining Armor.
The Moon Princess was in no mood to worry about the intrusion; something was amiss. Amiss of the most horrible sort.
“Guard! Speak!” Luna called out to get his attention, forgetting herself in her rush to find out what had happened; her sister’s watchers were unused to the thunder of an alicorn’s voice when raised, as unlike Luna their charge had long since ceased raising hers. The call made the guard gasp and turn to face through the open doorways, out to her balcony, and for a moment he struggled to find his voice.
“Y-your majesty! It’s Princess Celestia!”
Tia. Oh no, Tia, Luna felt a sudden sensation of dropping in the pit of her stomach. The merest inkling that something had happened to her sister was… just…
“Please! Princess Luna!” entreated the Royal Guard stallion again.
Behind him, the formerly angry doorguard was turning about, talking to some other out of view. “Get reinforcements, now!”
“Who?” said a strained voice.
“Everypony! Every last one!”
Luna didn’t waste time with asking for further explanation; she would find out herself. She, for a moment, was about to reach out to her magic and call upon it to bring herself to her sister with a teleportation spell… but stopped just short. No. Something isn’t right. There is no coincidence here.
She would forgo magic, until she knew what had happened. She turned to her balcony again, shuffling her wings open and flaring them wide. There was simply no time, in her mind, to waste in getting airborne. She threw herself, wings wide, from the balcony, catching the air beneath her in the fall and starting to power upwards.
Tia is at her own chambers, almost certainly. That, or the courtyard, Luna reasoned. We’ll discover which in short order.
It didn’t take long to find that the former was the case; the courtyard was empty. The princess angled her wings and turned about sharply, working to gain altitude in the cool air; Celestia’s chambers were relatively near to her own, though slightly higher up and facing towards the east where Luna’s faced towards the west.
When the Moon Princess alighted on her sister’s balcony, she was met by no less than ten members of the golden-clad Royal Guard. They were startled at her sudden appearance, and two even seemed about to draw their weapons. Some already had even before her arrival; they were panicked. Why?
The dropping sensation in Luna’s stomach returned. Soon, it felt as though her stomach had dropped entirely from out of her body, and the ground felt soon to follow.
Celestia was behind the guards, who parted at Luna’s approach, flat on her side against the white stone of the balcony. Her mane, normally gleaming as though aglow itself, was dark and motionless around her where she had fallen, and she looked to be entirely limp. Her eyes were closed.
“P-Princess Luna!” stuttered one of Celestia’s guards. “We don’t know what happened, there was this big flash of light, and she just-”
“Your Majesty!” interrupted a black-clad member of the Nightguard, charging into the room adjoining the balcony. “Are we calling ‘To Arms’? Are we-”
“The Sun Princess is-” broke in the Dayguard that had been previously speaking.
“Be silent!” The thunder of Luna’s voice cut the imminent bickering suddenly short, and the Dayguard around Luna recoiled at the sound.
Luna ignored them for the time being, and found herself, almost without knowing how, kneeling next to her sister. There was no sign of blood. No sign of struggle. No sign that anything had happened. Was she sick? Was she injured?
Without thinking, Luna pressed her cheek and ear to the chest of her older sister; she was warm, even hot to the touch, as she always was… and she was breathing. But it was shallow, labored, and irregular.
“...big sister?” Luna muttered. She hoped that her sister would wake. She hoped that her sister was somehow, impossibly, unfathomably asleep and would wake to her voice. “...Tia, please…?”
There was no hint of response from the prone form of the Sun Princess. She was alive, but certainly not asleep.
“Y-your majesty…?” said one of the nearby Dayguard; he seemed to be hoping for good news, if unlikely. “What should we do?”
What should she do? Luna could barely think of an answer to the question. She didn’t know. Celestia was always the one who knew, and she was the one who needed help. But protocol dictated that she be the one to make decisions in such a case.
What would Celestia have done?
“Guard, fetch…” she paused. Who? “...fetch the castle apothecary.”
“W-which one, your highness?”
They had more than one? “Horsefeathers… all of them. And we will move Princess Celestia from the balcony, we need to have her in a safer location.”
“Princess Luna, your highness!” called another guard, this one being one of Luna’s. “Are we… are we under attack?”
“We… I’m not sure,” Luna trailed off. Were they? They could be? “We… I intend to find out. Assume we are, and bring the castle to arms until we know more. I don’t want my sister without at least ten ponies watching her at all times.” This last she directed at the golden-clad guard near her. She scoured the Dayguards’ shoulderplates, searching for rank insignias; not a single one of these were over the rank of Corporal. “Where is the Dayguard Commander? He should be summoned immediately!”
“Your highness, he’s off duty. I think h-he’s asleep in-”
“As is his charge, isn’t she?!” interrupted Luna, standing and suddenly angry. The guards, even her own, recoiled as she towered over them, and those that were at the door and about to enter to join the growing platoon of onlooking soldiers seemed about to turn and go elsewhere at the bellow. “And so long as Princess Celestia sleeps, he should not! We will have him here at once!”
It seemed, suddenly, as though Luna felt sure of herself. She’d felt awkward and helpless but a moment ago, but called to action she felt perhaps some of her old self return, a touch of strength from a time when she had been less humble. She would see to her sister’s protection; Celestia would trust her to do that, and more.
“Nightguard, who here is of highest rank?”
“Ma’am, I am!” called a stallion that was entering the bedchamber adjacent to the balcony. He shoved his way forwards through the growing crowd of guards, grumbling. “Who woke up the whole damn garrison?! Clear this bucking room, this isn’t a circus!” Soon he stood in front of Luna, saluting with a hoof; she recognized him, both his leathery wings and rank insignia. This was one of the very few of Luna’s guard that was a natural-born batpony. “Sergeant Shale, reporting as ordered, Highness!”
“Sergeant, find the Nightguard Commander and appraise him of the following:” Appraise him of what, exactly? Luna still wasn’t sure. “....until further notice, Canterlot Castle is on the defensive, and we are to assume we are threatened. The Dayguard will see that Princess Celestia is taken to the…” What was that room? “...apologies, the chamber built after the changeling attack.”
“Siege vault, yes ma’am!” At least Shale seemed to know exactly what Luna meant. Celestia would be, perhaps, more safe there; that was the entire purpose of the room, after all. “Ma’am, what is the threat? I-if you don’t mind me being so bold as to ask, your highness!”
Luna offered the best answer she could: “.... we will know in due time, once my sister is safe. Tell the Commander he should have a message delivered by magic to Prince Shining Armor in the Crystal Empire immediately; we need him here.” Though the Nightguard and significantly-larger Dayguard each had division commanders, Shining Armor remained the head of both… though his position ruling the Crystal Empire alongside young Mi Amore Cadenza left him almost entirely absent in the past year, if not longer.
Princess Luna broke away from the Sergeant and turned back to her sister, returning to the stone floor next to her. There was still no sign of movement, but the shallow breathing continued. Something was gravely wrong, Luna could feel it from every extremity into the very core of her heart; something was so very wrong that it hurt.
Behind her, Shale was already moving into action. “Corporal, you’re in charge of this room until I get back, see that Her Highness is guarded!”
“Y-yes, Sergeant!” said the Corporal, the still helmless guard that had earlier been posted near Luna's chambers.
“And get this bucking room cleared!”
It’s still night, Luna suddenly realized. Her eyes reluctantly left her sister to look upwards. Above, the sky was still black and dotted in familiar stars, and the glow of dawn hadn’t even begun. Celestia hadn’t yet raised the sun. The moon, however, was already lowered from the sky, leaving it darker than she was ever used to seeing it.
The night was not yet over. And so long as it was night, the Moon Princess still had tasks to face.
“Duty, for us, is not to the crown, to the Princess, to the city, or to the Guard;
our duty is to Equestria, and all who reside within it.”
- The Royal Guardspony Handbook, Chapter 1, Paragraph 3
Try as she might, Luna could scarcely keep her thoughts from straying to her sister.
There was no escalation of worry or steady spiral into worst-case what-ifs; Luna had settled on the most important question regarding Celestia’s well-being: Was this the end?
The Moon Princess had always been somewhat more pessimistic than her older sister, and it wasn’t uncommon for her mind to stray to thoughts of the worst finally happening. She and her sister had seen a great deal of time pass in their reign, and even before; Celestia seemed inclined to call the pair immortal, but realistically Luna wondered just how far that went. It was one thing to simply not age, but another thing entirely to be ‘immortal’.
Few creatures could claim such impunity to the rigors of time and trial, and Luna did not count herself or her sister to be among those. The current state of the Sun Princess acted as proof, in her mind, of that fact.
She didn’t know what, precisely, had caused her sister to fall into the state she was in, but the best guess so far was that it was magical in some way; what else could bring low somepony as powerful as her big sister?
But then again, she could be overestimating her sibling. She hoped not. Luna had found herself bested in a few cases, as had Celestia; working together or seeking the aid of something or someone was how they usually dealt with such scenarios.
She would have to learn more, and determine if she or others were under similar threat. Perhaps, more optimistically, this was a case where there was no threat at all, and it was some new, formerly unknown aspect of being what they were. She both hoped this were the case, and hoped not; after all, if it were something to do with being an alicorn, well… Luna herself could be susceptible.
There was so much she didn't know yet. No word or explanation, just an unconscious monarch and the almost communal notion that the castle could well be in danger.
What a mess. Celestia would already be trying to solve this, she knew, and yet Luna was having to rely on her subjects just to find out what this even was. Luna had never had to deal with any major emergencies on her own, having Celestia there to think on her hooves. But it was her duty to see it dealt with.
She realized that she'd left her crown on the nightstand in her room. Yet here she was out and about the castle without so much as her shoes, much less her symbol of authority.
She'd just have to go get it.
No. That would be ridiculous. She was the Princess of the Night, she didn't need her crown to show that.
But how prepared for this upset could she portray herself without so much as her crown? She had taken off everything as soon as she'd retired to her chambers, even letting drop the spell that kept her mane and tail shifting and illuminated with sparks. Turning her head, Luna could see her mane up close, a slightly more pale blue than the deep color of her coat, but as ordinary as any other pony's without a spell.
Luna was torn between ignoring her lack of decorum in favor of just focusing on the task at hoof, or going back to her chambers so that she could look the part she'd have to play. There were ponies counting on her, either way.
The princess' ears perked as she heard voices approaching the room, bringing her back to the present place and situation. Here, in the oldest of the castle's meeting rooms, there was no carpet or decor on the walls; voices and hoofsteps carried a long distance into the room from the adjoining two halls. For a moment, torn from deep thought, Luna seemed to feel disoriented at her current location; in her mind she had been far away.
"...the guy was panicking, so I assumed we'd need help," said one voice.
"The whole garrison?!" Luna identified this as Sergeant Shale; his voice was distinct, and sounded upset. "We have every guard in the city up in arms now, and nopony's getting any sleep until this is over."
"I didn't want to make the mistake of not getting enough ponies..."
"Well you'd best be damn glad it was an emergency."
The two stallions speaking were approaching from the left passageway, from the stairs that led down to the main entry chamber of the castle. Curious as to how many would be coming, Luna circled the long wooden table in the middle of the room to peer into the side passage.
Sergeant Shale was indeed there, in full armor as he tended to stay, speaking to another pony that was a lighter grey than he. Luna recognized him again as the Corporal that had been at post near her chambers, this time in proper dress with his helm.
They were both wearing swords, scabbards resting at their sides against their armor with a thick pad between to prevent clanking. Luna had a momentary feeling of deja vu; the last she had seen her own Nightguard kitted in non-ceremonial swords was a very, very long time ago. There had been more ponies like Shale around... and much more strife.
Luna hoped that it wasn't a prelude of things to come.
"S-sorry, Novu... I got carried away," the Corporal said; it was the first Luna had heard Sergeant Shale's given name used.
They seemed to have not noticed her, and stopped several meters down the hall. Shale bumped a forehoof against the cuirass of his earth pony subordinate. "Look, you thought you were doing good, and you did good. In the end that's all the Commander will notice."
"Do we even know what happened?"
"Bucked if I know," Shale snorted, taking a much lower tone. "Blue isn't saying anything, and he keeps asking where the Dayguard commander is. Celestia is in the new vault until the city sweep is done. So once Blue knows, we'll know."
"...well maybe Lu-" as the Corporal turned to look down the hall, he caught sight of Luna, watching. "P-Princess! Y-your highness!"
The two guards immediately took a knee, Shale himself spreading his leathery wings slightly in the motion. "Your highness, I apologize. If we had known you were present we would have announced ourselves," he offered, trying to explain. Luna was used to this sort of thing. "I apologize for my language, ma'am, it was improper."
"But it was, yet, very enlightening," Luna said. The two took this as their cue to return to standing and approach, closing the remaining distance. "Sergeant, we asked that you bring the Commander. Yet we see neither the commander of the Day nor Night branches. You are also frustrated..." Luna habitually kept closer to the traditional methods of speaking when it concerned formal address of her guard. For a moment, however, she dropped this. "Sergeant, do I have to hear more bad news?"
"Princess, I..." Shale began, then paused. He turned to the earth pony corporal next to him. "Star, get back to the barracks, I need to speak with Her Highness."
The corporal almost seemed about to protest, but then nodded. He made one last bow towards Luna. "Your grace."
When the other guard had left, Shale continued. "Princess, I delivered your message as asked. Commander Blue Moon and both Lieutenants Sails and Halm are currently searching the Princess Celestia’s chamber for any possible leads, and the Commander is refusing to leave until he is sure his task is complete."
"Refusing?" Luna echoed. She was caught between wanting to find and retrieve the Commander herself, forcibly, and wanting to commend his diligence to the tasks at hoof. "And what of the Dayguard?"
"Split into teams, searching the Castle and grounds as per protocol when called To Arms... and guarding Princess Celestia."
"How many are guarding my sister?"
"I last heard the number twenty-eight being said," Shale responded. Luna knew that it likely hadn't been said to him, as his breed were...infamous...for eavesdropping. "I was sent by the Commander in his stead."
Luna had been trying to stay aware of the details inside her portion of the Guard, but time had never been on her side. Even so, she knew that the few batponies in her guard were highly trusting of one another, and it made sense that Blue Moon, a batpony himself, would send Shale.
She didn't really mind this; it was no secret that this nocturnal offshoot of pegasai were her favored guards, as they were just as night-adoring as she.
“I should hope that if the Commander is...refusing...my summons, he’ll have something to show for it,” Luna said, though less to the Sergeant and more to herself. “So very much for a proper briefing.”
Luna let out a frustrated sigh, turning from the Nightguard and returning to the meeting chamber instead, starting a nervous pace around the table. Shale tried to keep up in his armor. It had been her intention to pull aside higher members of the Castle’s security forces and have them brief her on the situation, which was a millennia ago an absolute given.
“I’m afraid, your highness, royal briefings are abnormally rare,” the smaller pony said, as though privy to her thoughts. Luna thought it sounded more like an attempted excuse. “Prince Shining Armor has conducted briefings during emergencies for some years now, as Princess Celestia has always… made separate arrangements.”
"Meaning, of course, her dealings with young Twilight Sparkle," Luna said, trying to make sure. The guard nodded. "And it was assumed I might do similar?"
"The Dayguard assumed as much, which was my initial excuse as to why the officers haven't been around. But... uh..."
Luna stopped in her pacing and turned to look back at the following guard; he didn't lose his voice often. Him doing it now was concerning. "Continue, you have my attention."
Shale nodded and did so, adopting his straight-legged, chin-raised posture as was the norm when he presented a report. "The changing of the Guard at six in the morning was performed, and the reports are now final. Dayguard is short by four stallions, unaccounted for… as well as the Dayguard Commander."
Luna was, for a moment, almost stunned. When was this information learned? "We're missing a Commander? And what of the guards, were they at post?"
Sergeant Shale shook his head. "No, ma'am, they were supposed to be asleep in the barracks. They never reported for shift change. I found out by listening in to the Dayguard troops; they're understandably... antsy."
Luna was decidedly miffed, and realized her expression must have shown it when Shale took a slight step backwards. Her sister was incapacitated and being examined by apothecaries, her own guard wasn’t responding to summons directly, there were guards completely unaccounted for, the Dayguard was running around as though missing their head, and now she found that yes, they were indeed missing their head, as it were.
What a mess.
“The Dayguard Commander must be located,” Luna finally settled on saying. “What of the head magister, has he been summoned yet?”
“Still no sign of him in his usual places. But he’s old enough that he wouldn’t be far from the castle,” Shale said hopefully. “I’ve dispatched a tyro to try and find him.”
“A what?” Luna interjected; she didn’t know the word.
“Sorry, ma’am, foreign word,” the Sergeant explained. ”Tyro means ‘novice’. Sometimes we call the new, rankless recruits that. The Dayguard has plenty of trained soldiers at their disposal but us… well, we have recruits. Half of our number and then some is nothing but tyros, so we’re having to utilize them half-trained.”
He seemed apologetic.
Luna eventually, after not answering the pony for some time, motioned for him to follow her; she was restless. Through the other doorway, opposite the one the guard had entered through, was a short passage leading to a long hall, with doorways to the left leading to other rooms and passages, stairs leading upwards at the end, and vastly-tall windows to the right. At over one-hundred meters in length it was one of the longest straight stretches of corridor in the castle.
Luna had a liking for this hall. It was one of the oldest portions of the castle and had remained relatively unchanged, the white stone underneath her more worn from countless hooves but still about what she remembered. Few windows of this size in the castle were clear glass rather than stained, which Celestia preferred; Luna preferred a clear view from which she could see the stars.
“Lulu’s favorite tapestry,” Celestia would sometimes say. In the dark of the night the passageway was a cool grey, lit only by starlight that would shine in through the windows.
As Luna looked out towards the windows now, however, she found that the view of the night sky was more disconcerting; it was supposed to be morning, but yet the sky was that of deep night. And it was a further reminder of just how serious this incident was: were it Luna who was incapacitated, life would go on without much in the way of interruption, but the whole world seemed to stop when her older sister was unable to raise the sun.
Luna quieted, with an anxious huff of breath, a small pang of jealousy.
Shale seemed to notice his ruler’s discontent. “Your highness, at this point we’re doing all we can.”
“You seek to reassure us without progress?” Luna retorted. She bit her tongue, huffed again, and then continued. “I apologize. The fault is not your own. I feel like I should be doing something more, but there is nothing I can do at the moment beyond letting the Royal Guard do its work. But is it too much to ask that somepony be where they are supposed to be in an emergency?”
“Your highness, might I suggest contacting Princess Celestia’s student?”
Luna snorted, grimly amused. “And tell her that her mentor is unconscious and that we are uncertain of the cause? The little unicorn would be here with all six Elements by noon if she is not on her way already.”
“Meaning no disrespect, your grace, but couldn’t the Elements hold the key to waking Princess Celestia?” Shale seemed hopeful.
“I’ll tell you this… if the situation has not changed by the end of the day, I will personally see to contacting Twilight Sparkle and her friends, and we shall resort to the use of the artifacts. If she has not come here of her own volition, trying to determine why the sun hasn’t risen or sent a letter asking. Though I’ll require the magister; I never learned the requisite spell for sending a letter by dragonfire.”
“By…. by what, your highness?”
Luna realized that other than herself and her sister, most ponies were likely not even aware that Twilight Sparkle had a dragon, nor aware of the magical nature of said companion. “Twilight’s infant dragon is the destination of Princess Celestia’s letters. As a potent creature of magic, certain spells can utilize their natural attunement to magic for remarkable feats… in this case, sending a message securely. I… am afraid I never had much use for ‘sending’ spells. My sister knows most of those, as does the magister.”
Why is my sister the one who knows everything? Luna wondered. So much for our awe-inspiring wisdom and power, Tia. Though if Luna were honest with herself, she would be sure to note that there were a great many things that Celestia didn’t know or was capable of. Though Luna’s magic was not nearly as potent, certainly not enough to move the sun, Celestia had never shown any affinity for the abstract magic relating to the ethereal world. Illusion was something Luna had a great deal of pride in her capabilities with, and the area of magic concerning the dreaming world was utterly her own domain and shared by no other so far as she knew.
But neither of these were helpful. What Luna needed was knowledge that could only be gained by observation, and as she had only ever been the watcher of the nighttime hours, she had little experience with many ponies who were only awake in the day.
Pausing in her slow trek down the hall, Luna turned to look back at the guard that had been obediently following her, looking him over. In the wash of faint white from starlight from the window his armor gleamed; he looked clean and prepared, ready for any eventuality… but in his yellow eyes she saw exhaustion. She realized that he’d been awake likely for some time, working through the night as usual, and now working even harder in trying to help deal with this entire ordeal.
Shale noticed Luna looking him over. “Ma’am?” he said, wondering if he was about to be addressed with something.
“Should you not be allowing a member of the Dayguard to take over for you?”
Shale almost looked offended. “Your highness, I couldn’t bear to leave you to one of Gleam’s hooligans. Commander Gleam, sorry ma’am.” Shale had a tendency to drop mention of rank when speaking casually to another guard, though almost never around Luna. It seemed he must, indeed, be tired.
“While I appreciate the company of someone nocturnal like myself, Sergeant, you do not have the fortitude of an alicorn,” Luna felt obligated to remind him. She was exhausted herself, and dearly wished she could have that rest she’d been wanting in the first place last night, but at least she had the endurance to carry on being awake for far longer than most ponies.
“Your grace, if you would like to order me back to the barracks, I shall go… but I shall not leave you otherwise.” It was as close to refusal as a subordinate could possibly come without meaning offense. It was one of the reasons the Moon Princess liked this particular member of the Royal Guard; Shale was utterly dedicated to his duties, even when faced with exhaustion.
In fact, it had been Novu Shale that was the very first of the Nightguard to greet her on her return to Canterlot, following the incident of her arrival as Nightmare Moon. Decked in full arms, the batpony was the one leading four other members of the Nightguard just before the arrival of Commander Blue Moon; most of the others were asleep, as it was midday at the time. He’d said nothing, only saluted.
When the Commander had finally arrived and formally placed the Guard at Luna’s disposal, Luna had been feeling remarkably ceremonial. “Thank you, Commander of the Nightguard. We will trust the watchers in the night to look over us.”
Only two responded, with the end of the oath that was unique to their division. “Until the night takes us, and we return to darkness.”
That had been only the Commander and Sergeant Shale, the only batponies present at the time Luna had returned. Luna had found that, sadly, her own division of the Royal Guard was much reduced and much changed since she had last seen them. Most not to her liking. For example, the grim final portion of the Nightguard oath had become almost optional to intone, as per request of the previous Commander of the division.
Luna liked the grim part, though. A row of new recruits in gleaming black and silver armor, wearing the thin blue line of a Private for the first time, chanting in unison… was an intimidating and exquisite sight. For the longest time she had presided over such ceremonies herself, but in her absence it had been conducted alternately by either the Royal Guard Captain or the division Commander.
Luna missed how things were a thousand years previous, when ponies like Sergeant Shale were all that could be found in the Nightguard. Now such dedication and adherence to tradition was reserved for the uniquely-enthusiastic and the nocturnal batponies, which were far declined in Canterlot since Luna had resided there. In fact, that she knew of the only ponies of the kind in Canterlot or anywhere near this region of Equestria were already in her Nightguard.
But despite all of this, Luna could see that Shale was getting to the point where he was not likely to perform well at all in his duties. “Sergeant, while your adamantine bearing is applauded, I would rather have you prepared for duty during your regular hours. Return to the barracks, I’ll go and see the Commander myself.”
Sergeant Shale looked reluctant, but knew better than to protest against direct orders from the Princess of the Night. “As you will, ma’am,” he said, relenting and bowing. “Best of luck to you, I suppose.”
Luna followed the guard with her gaze after he turned and returned the way he had come, until he rounded the corner back to the meeting chamber and disappeared; she wished somewhat that she could have followed and retired to bed as well, but there was yet more work to do.
What should I do next, Tia? Luna asked her sister in her mind.
Celestia would most likely not simply jump to the next step; she’d start from the top. “Your first duty, as Princess, would be to ensure the safety of everyone in the castle,” she would have said. It’s what she had said the first time that Canterlot Castle had been called ‘to arms’.
Luna had scowled at her sister then. “What do you mean, duty?”
“Well we cannot simply run off and do combat with Evil, and met out Justice.” Celestia had gone on to explain, sounding far too much like a mother-figure for Luna’s liking at the time. “Every pony in the town looks up to us now. They want to know everything is alright.”
“But everything isn’t alright, sis!”
“I know that…” Celestia had given that annoying, knowing smile of hers.
In the present, though, Luna took her words to heart and finished Celestia’s statement: “...but even if everything isn’t alright, ponies need to know we’re making it right.”
Luna’s memory was much like her older sister’s; fragmented and half-dreamed. She’d been able to keep track of so many things at first, but as the years ticked by, one after the other, she found that she just couldn’t keep track of everything. Even a pony that was only a century old had trouble remembering everything, even in peak mental capacity… and so even an alicorn found that things started to slip away over time.
The Moon Princess didn’t even remember what the first emergency in the new city of Canterlot had been. There’d barely even been a guard, if she remembered correctly, and certainly not two divisions. Certainly not as large of a town named Canterlot, nor an entire country under the Equestrian banner.
“So what’s the next step?” Luna asked herself, though almost as though hoping her absent sister would answer. She remembered what Celestia had said, but… not what she’d done.
Luna decided to start from the top, and began pacing as she thought. The first thing done was to secure Celestia as best as she could. Next was to begin searching the castle and the town, with the goal of finding anything out of the ordinary that could hint at the cause of this ordeal in the first place… and offer a possibility of a solution.
This was being done.
The next step would be to… wait for the results of the search? Luna had no willingness to simply wait. Waiting, in her mind, was lazy or perhaps even cowardly. And how could she hope to wait with her own sister in apparent danger?
Lost as she was in deep thought, the alicorn princess almost lept at the sound of a gigantic brass clang in the distance; the automated sounding of the Canterlot clocktower in Palace Square. The brass of the bell rang almost hollowly, and then again, and then again.
It was seven in the morning, and ponies were waking with a field of stars above them in the sky rather than the rising of the sun, and a castle on alert.
The royal chambers of Princess Celestia were more extravagant than those of Princess Luna, but when Luna entered them it was all she could do to not cringe as the disarray they’d been put in.
Furniture had been pulled away from each wall and her sister’s bed unsheeted and the mattress leaning up against the headboard on its end. The curtains were off of each of her three windows and every painting on the wall removed and being carefully searched behind.
Even as the familiar form of Commander Blue Moon approached, Luna had a sense of what was going to be said. There was a sensation of dismay or desperation here, mixed with half-hearted relief.
“Your Royal Highness,” said the black-coated batpony that commanded her own Nightguard division. “Report, your Highness?”
“Immediately, yes,” Luna impatiently prompted.
Blue Moon was known for his quietness, his calmness… but his voice trembled. “I am afraid that I m-..must report that… as of yet nothing has been found as to what may have happened to Her Highness Princess Celestia.”
“Nothing?”
Commander Blue Moon had no opportunity to repeat himself, being interrupted instead by another; a unicorn stepped to his side. Clad in only the lightest leather armorings still used by the guard with a hooded blue garment beneath, Luna recognized very quickly the arguably least-popular of the Nightguard officers.
“Princess,” he said, speaking directly to her.
The restraint on the Commander’s face was barely noticeable. “Lieutenant Halm, your-”
“I believe,” interrupted the deeply-green unicorn. The restraint on the Commander’s face tightened. “That the Princess should be the judge of my-”
The Commander was often said to be called Blue Moon for how often he raised his voice without intending it to be an audible command, and even though Luna could almost feel the anger brewing in the batpony he kept his voice remarkably level. “Your Highness, I must apologize on the behalf of my subordinate-”
“Princess,” started Halm again, raising his voice. “Princess Celestia received a letter shortly after her removal to the siege vault.”
Hearing this, Luna raised one hoof, indicating that the Commander should let his subordinate continue. She’d likely have to talk with him later about it, no doubt. “A letter? A sending?”
“Not a sending, or through the Court’s postal services,” the unicorn clarified, his stature straightening as he understood he’d been given permission to continue. It was a victory for him, Luna suspected. “By an independent courier service. The Dayguard didn’t stop the courier, but the letter is here still.”
“Your Highness,” pressed the Commander. “The Lieutenant is under the impression this letter may be of value to the investigation under way, but I have previously informed him… that such is likely not the case.”
Princess Celestia often wrote to a multitude of distant ponies or otherwise. She was more social than her younger sibling, and there was a section of the castle’s internal postal service dedicated to handling her frequent letters.
A letter sent outside of this system would normally mean one sent by dragonfire, but by a private courier was much more odd. Perhaps from Shining Armor in the north?
“We would like to see it,” responded Luna somewhat officially. She wasn’t willing to let any possible lead slip through her hooves, no matter how unlikely, and she could deal with the issue of chain of command and power struggles after this mess was settled and her sister sound and safe.
“Of course, Princess,” the Lieutenant said, taking an equally-official tone. Luna noted the swell of pride in the pony. His horn flickered pale blue, drawing out an envelope from his flank-strapped pouch, offering it to Luna’s own igniting magical grasp.
It was a rather standard envelope, pale and creamy paper waxed to allow travel through clouds by pegasus at high altitudes. A fast-traveling letter, likely with a dedicated courier and not one on rounds. It was the sort that might be sent officially, and a honey-colored wax seal held it closed.
The seal bore no stamp for the sender, nor was there a return address. Instead it bore only a written name for the intended recipient. To Dearest Princess of the Sun Most Heartfelt Greetings and Salutations
It did not seem to be the sort of clue that would actually be a clue. Still, curious, Luna peeled open the seal and from the envelope withdrew a thrice-folded paper. The indentations of a pen were hard-pressed and clear on the page in blue ink and a flowing script:
‘It is with my most extreme condolences that I must greet you from the Pinnacle, condolences only in that I wish that you could also be here to enjoy what wonderful sights and sounds it has to offer. Great misfortune it is that you must be in Canterlot while I am away on such adventures. The journey is fraught with peril, but the reward is greater all the more because of it.’
The letter continued in this vein for several paragraphs, detailing travel arrangements and the poor quality of food on a journey to distant places she had scarcely heard of. Whoever wrote it did so almost as archaically as Luna herself had once spoken not all that long ago. It was not signed.
But it was no clue, and Luna’s brow furrowed.
“Your Highness,” started Commander Blue Moon, peering behind Princess Luna, only to be interrupted by a bright flash of white light. Dazzled by the flare from behind her, the batpony shook his head, squinting his eyes.
What?
“Hey!” shouted a Nightguard, drawing Luna’s attention behind her where the flash had come from, in time to see a pony with a magically-lofted camera ducking away from the doorway. The guard who had shouted made to pursue, but instead ran headlong into another pony, stumbling and then backing up.
“As you were, Nightguard,” grumbled the sizable armored unicorn entering the room, clad in the gold of the Dayguard. Where his rank lines would be was instead a embossed silvery sun, marking the white unicorn as the commander of the daylight division of the Royal Guard.
“Commander Golden Gleam, I was beginning to worry,” said Blue Moon as Luna turned, having recovered his sight from the bright flash of a camera. “Did you sleep late?”
Luna felt, welling within her, a great anger; when first she found her sister prone on the balcony she’d practically thundered that the Dayguard Commander should be brought at once, but here he was tremendously long after that point in time and with very little look of hurry about him.
“It is hard to say, with the sun not having risen,” Commander Gleam said a little acidly. “Princess Luna, a sweep of the rest of the Castle has been completed. The grounds and corridors are secure of suspicious sorts.”
“Commander,” Luna said, finding her voice and telling her building anger to sit down. “If I may ask where you have been?”
The Commander didn’t seem taken aback at the question, standing straight with a somewhat level expression. “I am often awake rather early, Princess. I’ve been in the gardens.”
“And the camerapony?” questioned the nearby Lieutenant.
“The paparazzi and press are near impossible to contain, Halm,” responded the Commander, not looking towards him but instead keeping his attention on Luna. “Which, on the same note, the city is waking and I must say there are a lot of questions. The last ‘To Arms’ was called during an invasion, after all.”
“We suspect that Prince Shining Armor would be best-suited to-”
“I apologize,” said the Commander, nodding his head. Princess Luna felt her voice caught, miffed at being interrupted; she hushed her anger once more. “But the Captain remains in the Crystal Empire. I believe there was a fair bit of talk about his retirement from the Guard? Were you not aware?”
Retirement?
Luna had met the Captain routinely; he was a compassionate and charming sort, well-suited to leading and taking a personal responsibility in the well-being of those in his command. Ever since his marriage to Mi Amore Cadenza and the return of the Crystal Empire, however… things were rather complicated. The leaderless Empire had taken on Cadence as its ruler, and as her husband it made sense for Shining Armor to stay.
But now? In this critical situation?
“... is the magister available?” Luna then asked, intending to send a letter magically as soon as she could. “We would like to see him immediately.”
“I’d rather like to know as well. Where is the coot?” Golden Gleam looked around the room with a frown as though expecting to see the court’s highest magic-user.
“As of yet,” responded Commander Blue Moon. “...he is not. I have sent some recruits to locate him and I expect him to be present shortly. Is it too much to ask that ponies of the castle remain in their quarters and postings?”
“You are well aware that this castle is home to hundreds, Moon,” responded the Dayguard. “And the city home to thousands. We have not instituted a curfew in centuries, you might recall, and the only one who might remember all the protocol and patrol-procedures is likely Sergeant Wilt.”
In her mind, Luna could hear in calm tones repeated the words of her older sibling, a conversation a millennia old but still rather clear to her now. “...even if everything isn’t right, ponies need to know that we are making it right.”
Okay, Tia. I’ll see what I can do. Luna promised to a mere phantom. “We cannot panic the town, or the kingdom. Based on the evidence we have,” she then began. “...it may be safe to assume whatever occurred was magical. Once the apothecaries are finished we will know more.”
“Doctors.”
Luna blinked, straightening up as the Dayguard interjected. “Excuse me?”
“They are called doctors now, Princess,” the unicorn clarified. Subconsciously, Luna could almost feel a faint tinge of some smug satisfaction.
Luna could not hold herself in check any longer. “You presume to correct us?” she called out, her voice raising in volume with the rise of her anger at the guard. He stiffened visibly, and she heard the faint murmur of distant activity become silence as her voice carried.
“P-Princess, I apologize,” he stammered, shaking his head. “No, I wanted only to be sure you… had not…” he struggled to try not to sound insulting. “...been misinformed.”
Princess Luna wanted to continue, wanted to rail at the guard for all sorts of things, but couldn’t find the words she needed or wanted. Her voice caught, the faint echoing quieted as her anger took a step back.
It seemed that she would not have a chance to regardless, as her ears heard the sound of fast-approaching hoofbeats. Jangling armor, panting breath; lately all she could imagine was that only more ill news was coming.
It was a Nightguard who skidded to a halt short of the door, thumping against the frame as he tried to make a sharp turn and found his footing almost lost. His armor bore no symbols of rank, nor even the blue circle of his division, but the dark armor was marking enough.
This, then, must be one of the ‘tyros’, one of the recruits, with panic on his face.
“It is an unfortunate fact that - due to the nature of these historical texts and the hard journey they have had in reaching us - much of these texts are lost and can only be speculated on. Of those who were there to witness events, they can only confirm suspicions. Of the rest they shall not speak.” -Prof. C. Scrivener, ‘On The Origin of Equestria’ preface
There were few who would join Luna in approaching the observatory of the castle. It was set apart from much of everything else, and frequented very rarely from what she had heard, but even knowing this the princess was not quite sure what to be prepared for when she entered the room.
There were shelves of books, rolls of charts, a round room lit not by light fixtures or magic but only by the gleaming of the moon and stars through a long opening in the domed ceiling, through which peered the massive and complex telescope she had seen only from outside before. Dust covered everything within, and it seemed almost as though it had been abandoned long ago in some great hurry.
Entering it with either of the guard commanders, she felt as though she were entering a ruin.
The atmosphere certainly feels ruinous, thought the alicorn with trepidation. Attuned to the unseen as she was, the room felt as though it was waiting with bated breath for what would come next.
Beside her stepped Lieutenant Halm, the unicorn’s horn flickering with a pale blue light that grew in brightness until the room began to slowly take on definition.
“Touch nothing,” he said with an even tone. He was tense, tremendously so, but he spoke with an authority and clarity deserving of his station; he was, after all, the head of investigating such things.
Behind, with the door halfway open, stood near a dozen guards waiting to know what was inside.
Princess Luna knew not what to expect, with the explanation delivered in panted breaths from a single messenger, but she knew that she would have to steel herself and move on to find what had become of her royal magister.
Even knowing what she had been told, Luna couldn’t prevent her voice from rising through to her lips, falling deadened in the air. “Mister Scrivener?”
She perceived vaguely that beside her the lieutenant was going to say something, but he didn’t. He tilted his head upwards at Luna, curiously watching. Luna couldn’t help but meet his eyes, but rather than any reassurance the guardspony only continued forwards, looking down at the floor and expecting to be followed by the alicorn and two commanders.
Luna trailed after, peering at the messiness of the room; there were books out and open on a desk or two, their pages somewhat faded from the light of who knew how many days of sun and coated in a layer of dust. From what she knew, this had been originally a part of the castle assigned to and taken care of by a single student of Celestia’s Academy:Twilight Sparkle.
She had of course not returned here in some time.
In the dim light from above Luna could see remarkably well, as could the batpony Blue Moon.
They were the first to see the shape sprawled in a corner near some shelves. Luna closed her eyes, inhaling a slow breath of air that tasted of dust, and shuddered at the half-dreamt and half-remembered iron tang of blood.
“Criminy,” gasped the batpony next to Luna.
Luna’s eyes couldn’t remain closed for long before she forced herself to take in what she could of the room. She did her best to remain stoically silent for the moment.
Canvas Scrivener, the official royal magister and a unicorn of almost a hundred years, was huddled near a shelf across the room, a black stain of glimmering wetness around him. The wet trailed behind him where he had clearly moved, marks from his hooves made visible by the glow of Halm’s hornlight showing where he had perhaps stumbled or staggered before coming to the ground to crawl.
“Your Highness,” started Blue Moon with some hesitation. “Perhaps you should…. not…. be here.”
“We do not require coddling, Commander,” Luna found herself saying, steadying herself all the same. It had been so very long since she had seen such violence. “Somepony please check him. We must know for certain.”
Tia, oh please help me, Luna thought.
After a moment, Lieutenant Halm left her side and started to make his way around the room towards the prone form, stepping around both the obvious blood and perhaps something Luna did not yet perceive.
The moving light of Halm’s horn played shadows across the room as he moved and finally knelt by the form, not seeming to even notice that he was in a puddle of blood. Calmly, with delicate practice, the unicorn leaned down and cupped his ear near the dusty-tan pony’s muzzle.
“Yes, he’s gone.”
Luna heard Commander Gleam audibly swallow.
Halm pressed his ear against the poor pony’s cheek. “Surface skin cool, rest is warm. This was recent. In the last few hours, maybe.”
“How?” whispered Luna, almost not daring to break the quiet.
“I see what seem to be some punctures. I would say perhaps bitten by something large but the wounds aren’t ragged. Multiple stab wounds? Many. A dozen at least,” the pony remarked with calm professionalism. “...I’ll need a doctor to say more.”
“Princess, we could be in danger,” said Commander Gleam suddenly, his voice quieting halfway through his statement as though realizing the volume at which he’d announced it. “I must insist that we secure you at once.”
Blue Moon nodded firmly. “Your Highness, I must agree. This area could still be-”
The telescope, Luna thought. Her eyes moved from the body along the trail, following it. Canvas was a tremendously old pony, and could barely bear to stand for long periods of time without resting on something. That he got around at all was a miracle itself.
“The telescope,” she then repeated aloud, interrupting the two ponies entreating her to leave.
“P-pardon?”
“That chair there is near the eyepiece, knocked over. He was seated.”
Lieutenant Halm’s attention rose from the body he was examining to do much as Luna had done, following the motions of scattered blood on the floor and eventually nodding himself, standing with stains of red on his armor. “Distracted while looking through it, most like.”
“...and set upon?” queried Blue Moon.
“It seems that way.”
“Princess,” continued Golden Gleam. “I must insist that we get you to safety.”
Luna was tempted. It had been a very long time since she had been exposed to such depraved violence and she could feel a tremble in her core. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to lash out in anger, to raze to the ground anything that stood between herself and justice.
She felt cold.
“Do not presume, Commander of the Dayguard, that we are of mere aristocracy,” Luna said, resolving herself. She felt that rage boiling up inside of her as it so often did and burn away the chill, and this time she didn’t shush it. “I am the Princess of the Night, Golden Gleam; if you wish to find safety you may crawl to it but I will not hide myself away while my own subject lies dead before me.”
Luna would not allow for those under her command to forget that while her elder sister was radiant and strong, the Moon Princess was no less resolved to stand against peril.
She felt as though perhaps she was lying to herself. The last that she remembered ever being in the room of a murder she had her sister beside her.
The first time she had been in such a scene, her sister had held her while she wept.
“...who must I speak to in order to have a message sent north?”
Commander Blue Moon responded after a long pause. “Canvas is the one who knows Sending. Was. I could have the Academy charged to find another to cast it, but other than this I can send a pegasus there by the end of the n-...day.” He hesitated at the last word, his eyes glancing at the star-blanketed sky through the roof.
“This is what we get for having abolished the Magicarum, Commander,” said Halm to his superior, turning and giving what almost seemed a glare.
“We haven’t had the resources or even need of the Magicarum in centuries, Ha-...” Blue Moon cleared his throat. “I apologize, Your Highness, I would prefer to not argue such things in front of you.”
Luna was intrigued, however. “Magicarum?”
Golden Gleam nodded towards Luna’s left, his eyes not leaving the body in front of them. “A subdivision of the Guard would train in the Academy directly for a time and become dedicated spellcasters of the guard. The practice ended decades ago, though some like our esteemed Shining Armor have a natural knack for certain spellwork.”
A practice, it seemed, that had come and gone during her absence. “It is something to be discussed, if it would allow for more ponies under us to know Sending for these emergencies. Shining Armor must be recalled here immediately as soon as possible. And we will need to contact Twilight Sparkle and her friends.”
“I will send messengers at once, Your H-”
“Commander Blue,” interrupted Golden Gleam forcefully. “Might I remind you that it is currently daylight hours?”
Blue Moon rounded on Golden with a glare, his tone still rather calm but his mask clearly shattered. “It is hard to say,” he said, his lips pulling back to show the prominent fangs his type tended to have. “...being as the sun has not yet risen.”
Echoing Gleam’s words back at him, clever, Luna thought. But not helpful. Where did this rivalry come from? There are more important considerations.
“Ponies,” interrupted Luna as Gleam was about to retort, which he bit back reluctantly. Blue Moon seemed pleased. “I will see to my own methods for reaching out to the two, should they not contact us by the end of the day. It is likely that Twilight herself may show within mere hours, knowing her inquisitive nature.”
“....very well, Your Highness,” said Blue Moon finally. “Princess, I am sure between the two of us,” he paused with a pointed glance at Gleam. “We can get to the bottom of this… this horrific…”
“Who was assigned to the Magister?” called Lieutenant Halm, interrupting Blue Moon’s thoughts and calling for the attention of the others in the room. The two commanders didn’t seem to understand, looking back to the unicorn looking over the scene still and gathering notes. He carried now from his pouch a notebook and pen. “His detail, the guards assigned to his room and corridor. Who are they?”
“I… well…” started Golden Gleam. “...I am afraid I will have to request the assignment sheets from Lieutenant Aegis to know for certain.”
“Four ponies would have been his detail for daylight hours, am I not correct?” asked Blue Moon, drawing out the question with a bit of uncertainty. “Where are they?”
Princess Luna felt the chill of before return and grow, the cold sweeping from her core to all the bones of her body as she heard in her head the echo of Sergeant Shale’s report not an hour ago. Her lips moved of their own volition, interrupting the response from Gleam.
“Dayguard is short by four stallions, unaccounted for…” she quoted the earlier report, the words clear as though read from a page.
Now at a rough total of ten ponies set to guard Luna’s person at the moment, it was all she could do to retreat into her own quarters and shut the door, refusing their entry.
With the discovery of the body of poor Canvas Scrivener, the call of ‘To Arms’ had now become ‘Shut The Gate’. The high-society and aristocratic sorts would not be allowed entrance to the keep itself.
The gate was barred, the balconies sealed, and all entry and exit was to be watched strictly by the posted guards.
But even sealed, besides the armor-wearing and now weapon-carrying members of the Royal Guard, the castle was home to a long list of staff. Handling the upkeep of the court, the providing of meals, the cleanup of the castle structure and maintaining of the grounds, and especially handling many of the more tedious affairs of the day-to-day running of one of the largest and most powerful nations in the civilized world took hundreds of ponies and otherwise.
Celestia, of course, knew these ponies and their positions and duties.
Luna knew very little of them.
That she knew nothing was of course inaccurate, she’d certainly call it a lie, but it was a fact that she was only ever really awake for and attended to the duties of the night. These duties of course had little to do with attending to the ponies of the nation itself and much more to do with protecting them from things many ponies had no grasp of the merest concept of.
But now, with her sister unable to attend to such things, it was clear that Luna would need to discover on her own what should be done. While at the same time worrying for her sibling’s health and the possibility of a killer in the midst of ponies in the castle.
Luna was usually of a rather carefree attitude she’d somehow kept when she shared the daylight hours, and was aware of its absence. There would be no sneaking into the kitchens to sample anything, there would be no pestering anypony with illusions.
The seriousness of the situation Canterlot Castle was in, that the country was in, weighed heavily on her like nothing else had in many years.
It was all she could do to quiet the buzzing of a million distressing things whirling in her head, audibly when her eyes were open, visibly when they were shut. Immortal as she may have been, Luna’s head was only big enough for so many thoughts and so many memories, and under stress it was hard to keep things straight.
Luna let a slow, restrained sigh escape her lips as she turned to stare at the locking bolt of her door, considering latching it to let herself have some almost-guaranteed peace, but thought better of it and left it open.
Her room remained much as she had left it before, though now her heavy balcony door was shut and locked from the inside, the night sky visible through the windows. It was dark, cold, and for once Luna felt like lighting a few candles despite being able to see perfectly well in the darkness.
She wished she could find something to comfort her, though as notions of what might do so came to her she dismissed them just a quickly.
Comfort at the moment was a delusion. No amount of light or heat or crying or shouting would solve her problems, and the firm reminder time and again of her sister telling her such throughout their history repeated in several variations.
“You can’t bring them back with tears, dear sister,” Celestia had once said to her.
Luna cried all the same, feeling her nose burn a little as blurriness crawled over her vision. She closed her eyes, squeezed them shut, let the small drops roll down her cheeks.
She didn’t know if the sensation of wetness on her cheeks now was memory or reality, but alone in her room it didn’t really matter. The cool air on the streaks felt sharp, drew her steadily back to the present.
She started across the room, though paused at the faint sound of a crackle below her hooves.
The shards of her fancy tea cup still remained scattered on the floor, untouched. It felt like days ago that she had dropped it, when it had only been several hours. The sound of it hitting the floor and her disgust at herself over having dropped it seemed a distant memory, overwritten with more important matters.
“Horsefeathers,” Luna cursed quietly all the same. She called on her magic almost reflexively, her horn flaring lightly with blue as she swept up the shards and pulled them together into a pile. She could repair it later, perhaps, but now didn’t seem the time to go delving into her old books for spells of mending.
Why did I drop it? She found herself asking, staring at the pile of shards on the floor.
Faintly, she remembered a sudden feeling having come over her, a terrible sensation. Premonition? She was more prone to such things than her sister. Could she have sensed the harm that would come to befall her dear sibling?
Could I have stopped it? She wondered. Could I have gone to her in time? Did I ask too much of her and cause her some misfortune?
Tap tap tap.
Luna jumped, shocked from her thoughts at the sharp sound of tapping on glass. She looked around, her ears perking high to find the source of the sound, but in her distraction she couldn’t tell where it had come from. Was somepony knocking at her door?
Turning to look at it she pondered, though after a moment she called out. “Are we required?”
There was a pause, and then the sound of somepony leaning against the door. “Your majesty, what was that?”
“....didst thou not knock?” Luna asked, then immediately chided herself on slipping so far into archaic mannerisms.
“Uh…. n-no, your majesty, nopony knocked.”
More quietly, from behind, Luna heard the sound once more.
Tap tap tap.
She turned, wondering at the source, and through the dim windows of her balcony doors she saw a shape moving; a shadowy figure. A pony stood on her balcony, tapping at the glass with a hoof.
A guard? Perhaps? Luna mused. There were some possibilities that made her want to answer and some that made her want to call for the guard behind her to come investigate. No. A guard would never come to my balcony.
“Princess Luna, do you need something?” asked the muffled guard at Luna’s door.
The stranger at her balcony did not knock again, nor did they leave, waiting.
Could it be that the killer of her magister had now come for her at her own balcony, knowing she was within? It seemed so very real a possibility, even as much as it seemed ludicrous. Why would a killer knock? And even if so, so far only a withered old stallion barely able to move around had fallen victim; an alicorn with all the powers of such would be no easy mark.
Even with a flutter of anxiety in the princess’ chest, she felt more curious than afraid.
“...I am well for the moment, thank you,” Luna eventually answered the guard through the door, and with that she crossed the room. Her magic flicked the lock of her balcony door open, and with some trepidation she turned the handle, pulling open the door to peer out onto the moonlit balcony.
“Hello, Princess Luna!” said a grey little pegasus, a mare with a pale yellow mane she thought seemed so very familiar. On her head was perched a little blue hat with the symbol of a flying envelope, the universal insignia of an aerial mailmare.
Luna searched her memory for a name. “H-hello,” she responded, blinking curiously. How did she get to my balcony without a patrol noticing? This castle is supposed to be secure.
“Oh!” the mare quietly gasped, lowering her voice but still not quite managing to whisper. “Oh goodness... I didn’t wake you, Princess? I know you, you know, you sleep during the day but I don’t really know if it’s day or night or…” she trailed off, ending with a grin. One of her gold eyes shifted out of place, drifting to one side.
Horsefeathers, Luna thought to herself. “Oh. No! No, I was not asleep. Excuse me but… I do not believe that... are you from Ponyville?”
“Yes!” the mare responded, her grin widening and her eye issue actually straightening out for a single blink before returning to where they had been. “My name is Muffin, but uh… friends just call me Derpy, you can call me whatever you like, Princess Luna!”
“Well then, Muffin, I-”
“Ah, on second thought,” interrupted the mare, though Luna found it hard to be mad at her for it. “...j-just Derpy will do, please! I mean, that’s what friends call me and you know, you’re kinda my favorite prin-”
With a stutter she hushed herself, deep redness suddenly spreading across her cheeks before the mare looked down.
“Well…. Thank you!” Princess Luna managed to say, unsure as to how she should respond to that kind of compliment. She’d been a favorite now and then to ponies, her Nightguard proved as much, but she often didn’t have such ponies showing up unannounced on her balcony during a castle-wide lockdown. “I apologize, miss Derpy, but is there something you needed?”
“Oh! No! No, I didn’t need anything!” the mare assured the princess, looking bashful still and sweeping off her hat with one dextrous wing, crumpling it to her chest. “Oh! No! You needed something; I have a letter for you!”
The mare retrieved from a satchel at her side not just one, but two items; an envelope and a scroll bound in red ribbon.
The latter Luna recognized immediately, snatching it up in her magic and undoing the ribbon to let it unfurl. The somewhat unique script of Spike the dragon crawled over the page, transcribing what his caretaker intended to say.
Or at least, she thought so until she got into reading it.
‘Dear Princess Luna,’ it began.
‘Twilight is beside herself worrying over what is going on with the sky right now, and she has tried to have me send a letter to Princess Celestia at least ten times now. I don’t have much fire left in me today! For some reason, every letter I send just keeps coming right back like a bad sandwich!’
So then, it was a letter from Spike the dragon himself. Derpy watched Luna curiously as she continued to silently read the letter.
‘I told Twilight to send you a letter too, and she was going to, but then she told me not to when the morning paper got here. I don’t know what’s going on, Princess, but I think Princess Celestia might be in trouble and you’re the only one I really think can let us know!’
Luna blinked and re-read the paragraph a couple times, unsure. “...the morning paper? What is this?”
“What’s that, Princess?” queried the little pegasus.
“Excuse me, miss Derpy, but what is ‘morning paper’?”
The grey mare looked confused, as though she expected Luna to have known the answer and thought she herself was being quizzed. “Oh uh… morning paper? The newspaper? They print news on these big sheets and send them to ponies. I delivered them once, but letters are way better!”
What does this morning report say that changed her mind? Luna thought to herself, rolling the letter back up and retying the ribbon. “If it is not a bother, might you happen to have one of these papers? One for Ponyville?”
“Oh…. sorry, Princess, I don’t. But you know, I think Ponyville’s paper is the same paper as the Canterlot one, we’re just a little way south, but you knew that!”
Luna gave a nod, and absently chewed at the inside of her lip. While in thought, the pegasus spread her wings, making her way into the air with a fair bit more skill than her odd eye and slight ditziness might have suggested she could.
“Welp, I gotta fly! Bye, Princess Luna, it was really nice to see you!”
“Of course, please try to take care, miss.” Luna nodded, offering a smile, and glanced down at the other letter she had been given.
It was sealed with a familiar, creamy-yellow circle of wax, and with no return address.
“M-Muffin, where did you-?” Luna started, looking up. The mailmare, however, was gone.
With some hesitation, Luna turned the new letter over in her magic, scanning the addressee entry on the front written in blue ink.
To Dearest Princess of the Moon Most Heartfelt Greetings and Salutations
“Who could have sent this?” asked Luna to no pony at all save herself, the question coming to her lips unbidden. The paper was sturdy and lightly waxed for travel from a great distance, much like the other she had seen intended to be given to her sister, though this one felt somehow… different. “I do not correspond with anypony, that I know of.”
She peeled open the wax, withdrawing the thrice-folded letter within, and began to read.
Her heart began to beat faster.
‘Luna, my trust in others has been worn thin and I cannot send notice by any other channel. Your sister is in the gravest peril imaginable.’
“Who…?” Luna’s eye darted from top to bottom, but she saw no name. She continued to read, returning to the top.
‘Your sister is in the gravest peril imaginable. I suspect that your staff will not find a solution to her continued slumber, nor will they be able to. Many previous events have come to this, much of which only your sibling was privy to. She had not shared details with me, only bare suspicions. This has been no accident.’
Grave peril? From whom? From what? To what end? Luna could find no explanation, save perhaps to suspect some shadowy creature such as Chrysalis the shapechanger had some plot for her sibling. After all, she had already attacked Canterlot once.
‘I cannot meet with you. I can only barely send letters to you. I have no time to teach you the codes that your sister taught me. Hesitate to trust your staff, your guard, or your people until such time as this ordeal has ended. Devious intent is bent against you.’
Luna, for all her thinking, could not imagine who may have written this letter. There were many strange and secret things her sister and herself both did, business that being a ruler of a country made mandatory, and many of these affairs they did not pry into in regards to each other.
Starswirl the Bearded, the magister in the castle a thousand years before, had sometimes used code to communicate to Celestia… but Luna shamefully admitted to herself that she had much of her memory of that particular time clouded by her jealousy of her sister’s respect and power.
There were agents within other nations, silent watchers in the dark places of the world, and even agents within the Castle that would report strange happenings by the authority of the Princesses.
But now, a thousand years since she last ruled, she knew of none.
Luna continued to read.
‘The courier I use to send these letters can be trusted; she is gold-hearted and innocent. And a fan of you, no less. I must warn you against reaching out to me, for doing so may alert those bent against you.
‘I will send more when I have come to know more, and I give you my deepest sympathies for the situation you find yourself in. These are truly historic occurrences, and even now you are being judged. I cannot simply expect you to trust in me with no name or face, but I am and have always been a friend of your family.’
My family? Luna echoed curiously. Judged?
‘Commit what you must from this letter to memory, and when you have no need of it any longer, say aloud these words: I am well-informed.
‘PS: I hope you read the morning paper.’
Again, this paper was mentioned. Was this from Twilight? But the wording was not quite like that of the young unicorn. It was too cryptic, frustratingly so, and Twilight was straightforward with little wit for secrecy at times.
Princess Luna read over the letter several more times, finding nothing more of note. It seemed that all she knew from this was that there was suspicion of some dark plot or even betrayal, a suspicion she did not even know could be trusted from a source she knew nothing of.
“...I am…. well… informed?” Luna said experimentally, almost in a whisper, as the letter had said to do when she was done.
Nothing happened.
She cleared her throat. “I am well-informed,” she said more decisively.
Harsh light flared in front of her, and with a gasp Luna dropped the sheet from her magic, stepping back as the page grew brilliant white and then suddenly went out, fluttering ashes crumbling and drifting to the floor.
The letter self-destructed with a code phrase. Fascinating. Luna thought, catching her breath and glancing towards the door. So then, whoever it is must be some sort of mage, perhaps? An enchanter? Twilight would know such spells without any doubt. Starswirl certainly did.
So too, Luna thought grimly, did Canvas Scrivener.
A plot? Betrayal? The possibility danced in her head as she stared down at the scattering of ashes on the floor. Who would even want to do such a thing? Celestia herself had made enemies in her time as the primary regent, but Luna had not had time to make her own enemies. That she knew of. Certainly there were foes to be faced. Great creatures like Sombra, Discord, Chrysalis, the terrible Tirek…
Who of these could have planted agents within her own castle that she must distrust those within?
Tirek had difficulty with minions, and he was safely locked away. Discord had no use for minions or agents, he had little in the way of planning, and she was also sure he was, too, safely locked away. Sombra was presumably deceased.
This left Chrysalis.
Luna seemed more sure the more she thought about it: Chrysalis was a schemer, a betrayer, a planter of agents and one who had every reason to want to strike down the two regents both for her own plans and for vengeance.
“Chrysalis, you heartless wretch,” Luna found herself saying. Within her she felt the hot ember of her anger flare and grow, and threaten to burst. Of all the powerful foes she and her sister had made, the most cunning and cruel at times was the queen of the shapeshifting Changeling race. She was also, by far, the most recent enemy of the Diarchy.
Luna trembled, realizing her magic had been called upon, and what more that she had lifted one small dresser in her magical grasp, hauling it into the air. The furnishing weighed easily twice what she did, but such a weight was of little consequence to her bursting anger. She had been, lashing out in her rage, about to smash the object on the floor; the dresser wobbled in the air rather dangerously.
“You child,” Luna said in a whisper to herself, harshly chiding. “...a princess doesn’t throw a tantrum. I’ll just… set this down.” Carefully, she did just that, placing the heavy dresser where it had once sat.
On the floor rested her tiara, having slid off the top of the furnishing when she raised it. Luna hesitantly scooped it up, perching it on her head and nudging it into place, hoping she hadn’t damaged it.
Can I trust this pony who sent the letter? Luna asked herself. She wished she could ask her sister, but unfortunately that was not quite possible. Asking me to distrust my closest aides, my own guards? To assume that we are beset by those within our own castle?
Hundreds of ponies lived within the castle itself, she knew. Her guard, direct aides, kitchen staff, janitorial ponies, architects, treasury agents, diplomatic support staff, ambassadorial staff… the list went on and on beyond her ability to remember all of the forms and functions, a network of bureaucracy that kept the city and the nation from falling apart.
Almost all of these remained in the castle at that very moment, she knew. Could she single out those she could trust among the many?
She could search the dreams of those who slept, but even as an alicorn who watched over such not all things were plain to her in such places. Dreams were the domain of the dreamer and the things that were dreamed of, and even intruding upon them could shed little light or offer little truth.
She doubted that those who would conspire against her sister would come forward if accused. They would lie, they would fall into the background, they would know that they had been found out. In the night they would vanish, untouchable.
A faint breeze from the still-open door to her balcony caught her attention, and she frowned as she nudged it shut, sliding the bolt closed to lock it once more.
What does the newspaper say? Luna asked herself. A report sent to ponies of the nation, like a flyer or a decree, but this morning’s held even more importance. Depending on when it was made, it could have reassurances to the ponies of the city about the recent events. She had a pony assigned to public relations, didn’t she?
Luna had to find a newspaper.
Dropping the empty envelope and letter from Spike on the chest at the end of her bed, the princess made towards her door. Giving it a tug, she found that the bolt was slid into a locked position. She didn’t remember having locked it. It was strange, but even so she only slid open the bolt, pulling the door open again to peer out into the hall.
Her bedchamber was on a hallway that met at a corner of the castle, the floor outside smooth stone but with a long blue carpet extending along the full length, wide enough for two ponies to walk alongside each other on it. Other doors branched off of this hallway to other private chambers of the princess’, such as her private study, a bathroom, and so on.
Where Celestia had three guards during her waking hours and no fewer than two servants… aides, Luna corrected herself… Luna’s room usually had only a single guard to watch her door and turn away any unwanted visitors.
At the moment her chamber hallway was lined with ponies, five to each side and one more right by the door, all in the golden armor of the Dayguard. Traditionally, as their names implied, the Dayguard operated strictly in the daylight hours and the Nightguard when the sun had set; under normal circumstances, however, her chambers were only ever patrolled by the latter. In this case it seemed not.
“Princess?” asked the white-coated unicorn next to her door, looking up at her patiently… but with concern. “Everything alright?”
Not even our own guard can be trusted? Luna asked herself, wondering. “Oh, yes,” she responded, giving an attempt at a smile. “I was wondering… would any of you know where to find the morning paper?”
The guard glanced towards his nearest companion before answering, looking a bit confused. “Uh… normally we get a few dozen copies in the notary public office,” he answered. “The castle’s sealed though, so I don’t think they would have been delivered.”
“They are not made within the castle?”
“Oh, no Princess. They’re printed in the town by Neighborhood News, we just have them delivered.”
The paper wasn’t an official document? She was so used to the issuing of royal decree from the castle she hadn’t considered that this morning paper might be a citizen’s work. “Where might I obtain one?”
“I… we could send a pony out to get one for you from the stand in the courtyard, but they charge a half-bit…”
Why would it be her concern how much they cost? Luna could likely call upon the treasury if need be, if she didn’t simply acquire a paper by sheer authority. “Hm, we shall see to it ourselves,” she said finally, officially. The guard, or guards in this case, straightened up. “... thank you.”
“Princess, we can’t just let you-”
“You cannot let us?” Luna queried almost without thinking, the guard going quiet. Luna drew herself up higher, taller than the stallion by a decent margin.
Even though Luna was most closely associated with her smaller Nightguard, the Royal Guard of the daylight hours were just as much under her authority as the former. In her head she saw the words on the letter from just moments ago, calling on her to treat her own guards with suspicion.
It took the stallion more than a few seconds to find his voice again, shuffling. “Far be it from me to tell y-your Highness where she can or cannot go!” he managed eventually, taking a less casual tone. “But your Highness could well be in danger, even within the castle and possibly more without.”
It was more than a fair point, Luna reasoned, but she detested the idea of being chaperoned like a foal. Even in these circumstances. And she most certainly detested the mere inkling that she might be told by somepony under her authority to not do or say as she saw fit.
The thought of being spied on by these Dayguard crossed her mind.
“Your concern for our well-being is noted,” Luna finally said, frowning. “Your princess can more than take care of herself on an errand.”
The guard was silent, seeming unsure as to how to handle this, but eventually nodded. “Of course, as you wish. The front courtyard of the castle, outside the gate, has a stand that sells them.”
Princess Luna left the castle from her balcony, with two guards watching after her on the next balcony over from her private study, not able to see her bedchamber from their position but able to watch as she circled lower from the castle.
The air was unusually cold, even for what seemed to be night, and the familiar stars above in their well-known constellations felt strangely unwelcoming. They weren’t to be visible for many hours yet, she knew, but yet here they were.
Circling the tall spires of the castle, she saw a field of glimmering lights below in Canterlot town, the streetlamps casting a warm glow from the roads. Windows gleamed, and below she heard the murmur of activity. More than usual at night, but of course it was supposed to be daylight.
Ponies trying to continue their routines, wondering what was happening.
I’ll issue a statement, Luna thought to herself. I’ve never done that before. But my ponies need to know what is happening, and that it will be fixed. I hope.
Luna wouldn’t be reaching the town itself; the road from there looped upwards along an incline to the castle itself, spreading into a wide, stone-cobbled courtyard with its own walls besides. This courtyard would bustle with activity, with the coming and going of ponies from the castle for court or to request things from the notary public.
The courtyard was very strangely quiet.
As the princess flared her wide wings, slowing her descent, she was aware of others watching her. Guards posted on the walls or spires, silently following her movements when they recognized her. Less than a dozen ponies in the courtyard following her with their gaze.
Luna knew she should feel safe, so carefully observed.
She did not.
The moon princess found the largest gathering of ponies, still fewer than there should be, gathered near the stall she had been told would be set up near to the courtyard’s entry, stacked with large, folded sheets of paper with black lettering across them. She was aware of the ponies moving aside to let her by with more haste than she felt needed.
The attending pony at the stall said nothing as she used her magic to scoop up a newspaper from the top of the stacks, pulling it up to read the front.
Luna recognized the picture: a hastily-taken image of herself in Celestia’s room, her face showing disappointment as she addressed the guards in front of her. The picture taken by the pony in the hallways not a few hours before, already on a page.
