Nightmare Moon has been banished to the moon for a thousand years. But her essence can still wander, and she’s found that the dreamscape is a wonderful place to occupy her time.
Nightmare Moon has been banished to the moon for a thousand years. However, while she may be imprisoned, she’s not entirely powerless. Bodily, she is grounded. But her essence can still wander, and she’s found that the dreamscape is a wonderful place to occupy her time.
Princess Celestia stood beneath the shadows of a once grand hall, where its tall arches stood over her, broken and embittered. Rugs and tapestries laid torn and frayed, having all but lost their color. The thick marble walls were pocketed and scratched, and cracks ran along their surfaces and through the floor. The shattered remnants of glass windows resembled gaping maws, looking like they would devour her should she try and escape. She peered out of one of them. She could see the traces of a surrounding forest, but everything beyond was covered in blackness. She glanced up through a hole in the ceiling, catching a glimpse of a brilliant white ring where the sun should have been.
She swallowed a lump in her throat and started walking. She didn’t know where she was going but she didn’t want to stay here. Every shadow in her periphery was darker than those she walked towards, as if they were chasing her. She stepped over fallen bodies and crumpled papers, which drifted through the hall in an absent breeze. Her mane fell over her eyes whenever she had to crouch under an obstacle.
She hopped over a broken chandelier and now found herself at the end of the hall. All the carnage was left behind her, as this one particular section seemed completely untouched. Save the faded colors, all was pristine: no scratches on the walls, no destroyed pillars or broken windows, no fallen paintings or ruined furnishings. Not even the ceiling had been torn down. It gave her the idea of an amphitheatre, and she had just wandered out of the audience up onto its stage.
At the far end, there was a balcony of sorts with two tall thrones sitting on either side, and a relatively simple staircases led up to them. Her hooves were heavy but she pushed herself up the steps. Her coat had lost its luster, dirtied having climbed through the debris, and it continued to gray as deeper shadows fell on her. Eventually, she made it up one side, where the yellow and gold throne she remembered so clearly presented itself to her. It wasn’t necessarily tattered, but it was covered with dust and in the lacking light, it was embittered.
She gently lowered herself onto it. The throne creaked and groaned defiantly, like it wished her gone and only threatened to collapse beneath her weight. But she was too tired. She needed to sit, and this was the only place she knew where to sit. Fatigue plagued her bones and a steadily growing weariness made her breathing hard and uneven. She sighed and glanced across from her, to the other throne, and under the same conditions it was entirely black.
Something moved out of the corner of her eye, then. She turned her head towards a large window sitting above the balcony between the two thrones, where faint light trickled through onto the floor. Dust speckled the beams, rising up towards the glass as if to invite her to take a peek outside.
A weightlessness filled her chest and she slowly rose out of the throne. The few steps it took to get onto the balcony lasted much longer than they should have. Gazing up at it, she found herself looking for stained colors or cracks or chips, but all she saw was the moon eclipsing the sun and a thousand scattered eyes. Her legs became rigid and her neck started to ache, so she brought her nose back down and looked straight out in front of her.
On the other side of the window, a living shadow stared back at her with its sharp blue eyes. A brushstroke of stars wrapped around the figure. Fangs glistened in the darkness, forming a wicked and unsettling grin.
And then it pounced at her.
Nightmare Moon floated in a viscous sea of raw magic. Spheres no bigger than her head drifted all around her, each one a little portal swirling with energy, electrifying the spaces between. She held one in her hooves, a big white marble amongst all the others, cackling madly.
“Perfect! Too perfect!” she exclaimed between laughs. An image of Princess Celestia shuddering in her small tent reflected in the sphere, and her grin only widened as the beautiful, powerful, absolutely perfect mare woke from her dream with a start—fright clear in her eyes—only for the image to sputter out and become hazy. Nightmare Moon chuckled again and stared down at the now-woken sphere, gripping it tighter.
“You thought I was completely powerless from my prison, didn’t you?” she said to it. “Oh my, dear Celestia, how sorely mistaken you are. Surely, you should have anticipated such a thing. Can you honestly believe that I am gone? Time does not work like that. No, you cannot just brush away the mistakes you’ve made and expect them to be gone for good. You, of all ponies, should know better.”
She playfully shoved the white sphere aside and looked around at the countless others, each one varying in color, each one a pony. She would be here for quite some time, she wagered, and there was certainly a lot of the dreamscape to explore.
Nightmare Moon popped her neck, laughed once more, and then dove into the throng in search of another sleeping sphere.
Sitting behind a large desk cluttered with papers and other miscellanies, he sat with an open book in his hooves. Having worked the night shift at this local boarding house, a book was the only thing he found that could keep him awake. No coffee or spell ever seemed to work as well as a good story. Nothing ever happened during the night, so he sometimes wondered why he wasn’t allowed to sleep like the rest of the house. But he wasn’t one to argue with his boss. Nights were tranquil, truth be told: much more so than most ponies thought.
A beam of sunshine fell over his eyes and he glanced up and across the foyer. The front door stood shut and, as always, unlocked. The large windows on either side had their curtains drawn, but ambient light was bleeding through them now, along with a solid streak through the slightly-parted middle which aimed straight for him. The sun had impeccable accuracy, he thought to himself with a tired smile. The morning had just begun and his shift was just about over; any minute now, his boss would be walking down the staircase to his right and dismiss him to get some rest. He’d clean up his station here at the front desk, treat himself to some breakfast, make his way to his small room on the third story, and finally get some sleep.
But he still had a bit of time before all that. He smiled, taking his eyes back down to the book in his hooves.
Right then, the small bell positioned above the front door chimed merrily as the door swung open, carrying with it crisp morning air and the gentle sounds of the waking village and surrounding forest just outside. He didn’t bother to raise his eyes to the ponies entering at first; undoubtedly they had a bit of luggage to bring in. They’d probably want to get themselves collected and maybe make for the restrooms after what was presumably a long walk. By his estimate, he had just enough time to finish this page before his services were needed.
But as the crisp morning air wafted up him, running its fingers delicately through his mane and down his neck, something seemed off. He hadn’t heard the door close, nor had he heard the bell chime a second time. And as the words he was reading started to make no sense, he suddenly became aware of the unsettling silence.
He raised his head and saw a green pegasus standing in the doorway, holding it wide open. He gave the mare a curious look, noting the silver plates tied around her shins, hanging in front of her breast, and the fanciful scarf wrapped around her neck. His eyes turned up to the glinting tip of a spear she grasped in one hoof, pointed skyward. The strange mare glanced at him briefly, causing him to sink backwards into his seat a bit, but she turned her gaze outside and formed a firm, stoic posture.
He wanted to say something to her but didn’t quite know what, and as an incredible shadow fell over the mare, he quickly lost all trains of thought.
Princess Celestia, in all her regal glory, strode into the room as if on air. The mare and her spear walked into the room after the Princess and shut the door. The Princess eyed him immediately, but her features were gracious and relaxed, and the soft smile she presented brought with it all the warmth of the sun.
“Good morning,” Princess Celestia said to him kindly. She walked up to the front of his desk and asked, “Are you the owner of this establishment?”
He shot a look to the pegasus now standing beside the Princess with her very pointy spear, her expression flat and unreadable.
“Uh...” He glanced back to Princess Celestia, her smile unwavering. He quickly closed the book in his hooves and straightened his posture, but his words came tumbling off his tongue. “Uh, I uh, n-no, no I’m not. I’m just the clerk. I’m uh, the only one on duty for the next... fifteen minutes?”
“Oh, well, maybe you can help me then,” she said. “I was wondering if you had any rooms available?”
“Uh... yeah. Yeah, we should,” he said. He shoved the book he’d been reading aside and reached under his desk for the ledger—a thin, worn-looking thing—and pulled it onto the tabletop. “We usually have, like, no less than ten available at any given time.”
“How big are they?”
“Uh...” He could feel the gears grinding inside his head. His eyes darted between her and ledger. “Common rooms typically house two, but our larger ones can comfortably suit four.” He traced a hoof through the ledger. “It uh, looks like we got... four of the large ones, nine common ones, and a few single rooms all available... Oh! And we do have a suite, but... but it looks like that one’s occupied at the moment. I could go and ask if they would be willing to transfer rooms...”
Princess Celestia shook her head. “Oh no, the last thing I’d want to do is remove somepony from their residence.” She made a thoughtful look. “Were we to rearrange some of the furnishings, how many ponies do you think we could fit comfortably?”
“Comfortably? Like, on the floor?” He glanced up at her. “Uhm, I don’t know... maybe six or seven in one of the common rooms, maybe twelve in one of the larger ones?”
“That sounds reasonable,” Princess Celestia mused. “Alright. Can I check into your four large rooms and eight of the common ones?”
He stammered, nonetheless he was able to force his words out. “For how long? We uh, usually charge ten bits a week per guest.”
“I don’t know for how long, honestly,” she mused. “And that sounds like a very reasonable price.”
“I-I’m sure I can get you some sort of discount.”
“That’s awfully kind of you,” she said sweetly. “Don’t you think so, Fragrance?”
The pegasus who hadn’t previously moved opened her mouth. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Always.”
“I think it’s a waste of money.”
Princess Celestia chuckled. “Yes, well, you ponies deserve better than sleeping in tents on the forest floor for the past week or so, especially after all this travel.”
Fragrance snorted at her. “We’re used to it.”
“The few dozen guardsponies, perhaps. But the staff require safe, quiet places to work, and the unruly forest floor is no place to manage an entire kingdom.”
“They’ve been getting used to it,” Fragrance said. “And I don’t think your financial advisors will be entirely thrilled, either.”
“Yes, well, we take everything one step at a time now,” Princess Celestia said. “And I think it’s about time we get back on our hooves.”
He slowly raised his hoof. “Uh, Princess?”
She looked back at him slowly. “Oh my, I’m terribly sorry. I don’t think I got your name, mister...”
“Ledger,” he said. “My uh, my name is Ledger.”
“Ledger,” Princess Celestia repeated to herself with a hum. “That’s a wonderful name. Now, you were going to say?”
“Uh, I was just wondering what’s going on? It’s not every day something like, well, this happens,” he said, waggling a hoof at the opened book in front of him.
“I suppose not,” she said, her smile undying. But there was a curious fragility in her eyes, he just now noticed, but it was fleeting—she blinked and it was gone. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m sure word has gotten around by now about the recent events involving Princess Luna.”
His heart skipped a beat in response. “I-I...” He suddenly became painfully aware of the pegasus’ unamused glare and the blood briefly retreated from his face. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up—”
“No no, it’s quite alright,” she assured, then paused. “What happened, happened. And now, I can’t just allow Equestria to muddle. The old castle is in ruin, and while the kingdom still functions, we do need a new place from which to govern.”
“Here?”
“No, not here,” Princess Celestia replied with a gentle laugh, “but I do have a place in mind somewhere near. My staff and I need a temporary stead from where we can manage the kingdom.” She paused again, thinking to herself before saying, “When we came into this village, we passed through an open field of wild grass due west of here. You wouldn’t happen to know if it’s in use, would you Ledger?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “If I recall, it belongs to an herbalist on the north side of town; her name is Flora. But I don’t think she’s using it for anything.”
“Excellent,” Princess Celestia chimed. She turned to her side and said, “Fragrance, if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor, please go find this Flora and ask if she’d be willing to sell it to us. We could certainly use the land to build temporary offices.”
Fragrance stared at her. “I’m your personal guard, not your financial advisor.”
“Then take Sixpence with you,” she said. “We both know he needs the exercise.”
“Should I also tell him about what you plan to spend here?” she remarked flatly.
“Please,” Princess Celestia said with a nod, ending with a sideways glance. “And don’t look at me like that. I’m aware of your duties and obligations, Fragrance, but we’re in the heart of Equestria. I mean, convincing the rest of the guards to stay outside—just so they wouldn’t all barge in here and have poor Ledger here go into a panic thinking we were arresting him or something—took much longer than it had any right to.”
Fragrance rolled her eyes. “You can be so naïve sometimes.”
“Perhaps, but what sort of danger is out here? Ledger?” she teased, motioning at him with a hoof.
For a second, Fragrance glanced his way, and her spear looked so much pointier than before.
“This is the exact sort of thing I’ve been talking about,” Princess Celestia continued. “We isolated ourselves inside that old castle for far too long, believing the remoteness would allow us to lead the kingdom with the utmost focus. No interruptions, no distractions. But in doing so, we did just the opposite and distanced ourselves from the very ponies we were sworn to serve, losing sight of just what truly matters in this world. Why, consider even this!” she said, tapping a hoof on the wood floor. “This has got to be my first public appearance in what, five years? Six?”
Fragrance stared up at her. Ledger suddenly became aware of how cold the room was getting.
Princess Celestia sighed. “We are ponies too, but being cooped up in that castle had turned us into machines. We need to become involved with Equestria, and not just for myself, but for all of us and the kingdom as a whole.”
Fragrance muttered something under her breath and looked away. “Alright,” she said, “I’ll do your silly errand. But when I come back and find you bound and gagged and stuffed away inside a broom closet, remember this was all your idea. And you”—she leveled her spear over the desk, slicing the air right in front of Ledger’s snout—“I better not come back to find the sole Princess of Equestria in any sort of trouble, or even so much as having a single complaint to utter. Understand me?”
Leaning back in his seat as far as he could without falling over, Ledger nodded his head furiously. The tip of the spear glistened like a lit fuse, close enough for him to lick.
The next thing he saw was Princess Celestia’s assuring smile return in full, once more flooding the room with a kind radiance. She used a wing to push the spear away and said, “Thank you, Fragrance, but I’m a grown mare,” she teased. “I’m more than capable of protecting myself, and I highly doubt Ledger here, let alone anypony in this quiet town, harbors any sort of malicious intent.”
Fragrance returned the spear to her side and snorted, shooting him one last glare before turning and walking out the door. Her steps were sharp and the bell of the door didn’t chime so much as it rang by the door forcefully being pulled open. Ledger watched her go, and saw bits of his village beginning to stir through the frame, before the door shut, creaking unusually loudly.
Princess Celestia sighed again. “Please forgive her,” she said, turning her head low. “Her heart is strong, but she sometimes lets it lead her mind astray. She takes her job seriously and I certainly understand her protectiveness, especially as of late.” Her features fell slightly. “But the poor mare needs a break every once in a while.”
Ledger fidgeted in his seat, unsure of how to respond. An awkward silence hung between them until Princess Celestia cleared her throat.
“Anyways,” she said, “I suspect there’s a thing or two I have to sign for?”
He snapped himself to attention. “Right!” he chirped. He swiveled the ledger around to face her and offered her a quill. “I just need you to sign here, here, and on all these other rooms. Usually we’d require a downpayment, but, uh, it’s okay if you don’t want to pay that now.”
“I can assure you, you will be paid,” she replied, letting slip a tiny laugh.
He watched her put down her signature where needed, and he couldn’t help but wonder about the stories behind it. He found it humorous to some degree that somepony like a princess—or rather, the Princess, as he had to remind himself while doing the best to not show his disheartenment—was here checking into some old boarding house in some rural village. Many travelers came here before, sure, but never one so prestigious. But he supposed that was the point. She had said herself that she wanted to be more involved with Equestria, so this was just her way. Or the beginning, perhaps. Whatever ideas the Princess had, he could only imagine.
Princess Celestia finally set the quill down and he took back the ledger, stowing it away back under the desk.
“I’ll go show you the rooms,” he said, pulling open one of the desk drawers. He reached in and took out the twelve room keys, fumbling his hooves by trying to pick up so many at once. He didn’t need to see the Princess’ amused grin to know it was there, and he jerked back when the keys he was selecting lifted out of the drawer in her golden aura. After a pause, he chuckled, and he took out the remaining keys and casually tossed them up, where they were caught.
“We make a good team,” Princess Celestia quipped. She levitated one of the keys closer and tilted her head at the tag attached to it. “There was no sign outside displaying this place’s name,” she said. “The ‘Canter-Inn?’ How cute.”
“We get a lot of travelers,” he said, stepping out of his chair and moving out from behind the desk. “Mostly traders passing through and the occasional mountain-climbing thrill seeker,” he added with a grin of his own.
Princess Celestia hummed. “To let you in on a little secret, I’m quite fond of heights. Perhaps I should see what the local range has to offer.”
“We’re at the base of a pretty tall one, and there’s a stallion who lives across town who knows it like the tip of his nose. Maybe I can introduce you to him?” he offered, walking over to the staircase beside the front desk. “Assuming you’re going to be here for awhile.”
There was a pause to the Princess’ step, nevertheless she moved forward and smiled with sincerity. “I would appreciate that,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” he chimed. “Anyways, the eight common rooms are on the second floor while the larger ones are on the third.”
Princess Celestia bundled the keys together and held them near her breast. “Lead the way,” she said.
Ledger turned from her and started walking up the steps. There was a feeling in his chest of weightlessness, and it slowly grew more pronounced as he ascended. He couldn’t believe how this day was starting out. His heart began to thud and he toyed with the idea of actually not going to bed after his shift. Honestly, it wasn’t like he’d be able to fall asleep after all this, and his shift had to have been over by now anyways. He knew his boss wasn’t one for paying overtime.
And now that he thought about it, where was his boss? His boss was usually up by now. Ledger reached the top of the stairs, coming right out into the main second floor hall. Beside this staircase there was another which led to the third floor, and the muffled noise of hooves on wood echoed throughout the building. That had to be his boss coming down just now! He put on his best smile, turned the corner to grab his boss and introduce him to their special guest.
But all he saw was darkness; the steps rose into shadow like a balcony before the darkest night. He furrowed his brow. Something was off for sure.
He turned around, fully expecting to see the Princess standing behind him, but all he saw was more shadow. The windows at either end of the hall leered at him from impossibly far away, the light that leaked through their drawn curtains unfilling, and all the warm colors of the house were obscured and darkened. But the sounds of the steps continued, and if they weren’t coming from above, then they had to have been coming from below.
Then a thundering crash echoed throughout the building, shaking the walls. Ledger lost his balance and nearly fell over, suddenly finding himself at the top of the staircase. His heartbeat quickened, his eyes widened, and he stared down the steps with trepidation as an alien darkness robbed his sight of the ground floor. What’s more, Princess Celestia was nowhere to be seen.
His breath escaped him. “P-Princess?” he asked the nothing, his voice cracking. “Princess?”
A lump formed in his throat and an ominous presence loomed over his shoulders, daring him to turn around. But he fought the urge, and on shaky hooves, slowly started to descend back towards the lobby.
“P-Princess?” he asked again, and was returned his echo. The boards of the steps creaked and groaned harshly under his hooves, growing more anguished the further he went. One hoof was on the railing for support, but it felt like if he gripped it any tighter than the whole thing would be yanked out of the wall. The ceiling above him trembled. The wooden walls were rotting. The floor only got blacker. His gut only grew heavier.
Eventually, he reached the bottom and everything was enshrouded in a dark haze, like a decade’s worth of dust was thrown up in his face. At the far end, he could barely make out the front door. The two windows on either side were a little easier as they let some sunlight in, but all he could really see were the two solid streaks of light where the curtains failed to completely shut. They cut through the air like carving knives right onto the floor in front of him.
He nervously glanced down, and across the beams laid the collapsed form of Princess Celestia. The twelve room keys were strewn all around her along with several of her feathers.
“Princess!” he cried, running up to her. Had she fallen down the stairs? It was so dark, she probably couldn’t see where she was going. Was she hurt? He knelt beside her, hesitant to put his hooves on her, but once he did he found she was cold to the touch.
“P-Princess?” he squeaked, trying to push her awake. But she didn’t stir. Her chest wasn’t even moving. “Princess! Please!”
Right then, the front door began to shake, but it wouldn’t open because it was locked. That wasn’t right, he thought. When did he lock it? That door was never locked.
The front door then snapped off its hinges, collapsing inward like a domino. The bell above rang heavily like a gong, and outdoor light flooded into the foyer and shoved away all the shadows in an instant. A blurred form immediately rushed into the room, and as he tried to stand, it crashed into him, throwing back against the front desk.
His vision spun and eventually settled on the needle-point tip of a spear, held right in front of his snout. The glare of the mare who held it was more than enough to scar.
“What did you do to the Princess?!” Fragrance growled. “What did you do to her?!”
“I-I-I didn’t!” he stammered. “I w-was—”
“Can it,” she snarled. “I never should have let you out of my sight!”
His heart was racing and out of primal reflex, he shut his eyes and kicked out. His hooves connected with something hard and there was a gasp, and the spear went flying away. He jumped to his hooves and ran for the door, but was halted by an array of spikes. They were the room keys, he realized, and they were pivoting on their rings as if possessed, pointing their jagged teeth his way. He stepped back and they slid forward, scratching the floor and growing longer and more threatening with every advancement.
He bumped into something hard and cold, and a glint of silver reflected right above his vision. Anxiously, he glanced up, and found his head resting against a metal plate encrusted with a symbol of the moon. Two blue, slitted eyes stared down at him and a big, toothy grin of razors opened up, readied to swallow him.
“N-Nightmare Mo-Moon...” he mumbled.
“Hold him,” said another voice. He glanced across to the body of Princess Celestia, where Fragrance stood over her like a protective mother, her wings flared. Her incredibly long spear was aimed straight for his chest.
“Goodnight,” Nightmare Moon uttered in a velvety, playful tone. She wrapped her magic around him and held him aloft. He tried to struggle but her grip only tightened, to the point it became a pain to breathe. He gasped, catching sight of Fragrance’s deep scowl.
The keys swiveled closer. Fragrance lifted her spear high above her head, and let it go. He shut his eyes and screamed.
Nightmare moon laughed, cradling a sphere in her hooves like some grand prize. She nestled her forehead up against it and peered inside, watching the image of an earth pony squirm in his tiny bed. A second later he sat right up, his eyes popped open and he screamed, and as he his breath left him the image in the sphere fractured and faded away.
“Oh, dearest me, this is far too entertaining,” she cackled, tossing the sphere back into the surrounding sea of others. She gazed over them and said, “No one can save you here, my little ponies. This is my domain and mine alone, and how irresponsible your princess must be to think I’d just wither like some fleeting memory. Oh no, I’ll be sure you remember me...”
Many of the spheres had lost their luster—for now—but she could easily see several still flickering in sleep. A thought crossed her mind, making her wonder just how many spheres there were. It all seemed endless from here. No matter, she decided with a grin. She glanced under her wing to the big white sphere she still held onto and saw that it was hazy.
“Come with me, Celestia,” she told it. “Let me show you around my kingdom.”
Rickety scaffolds traced along the inside of a large circular room. The ceiling had yet to be installed, so here at the top, the thick marble walls acted like the railing to a balcony, allowing one to look over the rest of the huge construction site. But on the western side, all the working ponies and wood and stone peeled away to open air and a vast landscape below. Rolling hills and plains, dipping valleys and flush forests, the tiny specks of scattered towns; practically the whole of Equestria was on display. The sun was in the midst of its evening descent, casting everything with light shadows and bringing out the darker, warmer colors. It was picturesque.
If she had any faith in her artistic abilities, she might have been brazen enough to try and paint it. But it seemed like she cursed every brush she touched, and this wasn’t exactly the time or the place, either. She glanced down at her hooves placed on the inner edge of the wall, and her eyes immediately jumped to the other side, the other edge. It was an ominous horizon where there was no scaffolding on the other side to stand on. There was only a sheer vertical drop into open air for a couple thousand meters. She knew because she’d inadvertently peered over that edge four times today, countless times before, and undoubtedly there’d be even more in the future.
Fortunately, a growing weight in her chest convinced her not to look over this time. She swallowed a lump in her throat and cautiously backed away, only to bump into something else. There was a nerve-racking creak and she hopped forward, twisting around to stare at the wooden railing of the scaffold. She gave it a nervous prod and it shook easily in her grip. No doubt if she used a little more force, it’d pull right out.
She glanced over the side into the room—she’d never know why she continued to do this—and the floor screamed at her from so very far away. Granted, there were taller, larger places being built around here, but this wasn’t short by any means. She had to be at least six meters off the ground!
A stallion sat in the center of the room amongst scattered tools and other construction materials, waving up at her to come on down. She almost didn’t see him by how quickly her head started to dizzy, but she shook the feeling away and motioned back that she was coming. She turned and just about ran down the scaffolding, a twisting maze of ramps and ladders that left her breathless once she reached the solid floor.
“You need to stop moving so fast,” the stallion said. He sat on a slab of marble, rolling up a scroll in his hooves. “Somepony’s going to die, and I’d rather it not be you.”
“I will when you do, Ashlar,’” she muttered, straightening her legs.
Ashlar gave her a confused look. “Since when do I move too quickly?”
“A few nights ago,” she said with a wink, pulling a tie out of her mane and letting it fall free. She ran a hoof through it to air it out and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, watching with glee as the brown of Ashlar’s coat turned bright red around the cheeks.
He crinkled the scroll in his hooves and glared at her. “Hey, I’ve been getting better at it!” he barked. He slapped the marble he was sitting on. “I’d like to see you lift one of these on your own, Lintel!”
She placed a hoof on her breast and grinned. “Honey, we’ve been over this,” she teased. “You’re the big strong stallion who does all the heavy lifting, and I’m the perfectionist who glides everything into place.”
“Oh, I sure do a lot of heavy lifting,” he quipped, exaggeratingly rolling his eyes.
She blew a tuft of her mane out of her eyes. “What was that?”
“Nothing...” he singsonged, glancing up and away to the orange-purple clouds dotting the sky.
Lintel wrinkled her nose and forced herself to frown. A silence followed, she glaring at him and he deliberately looking away, until Ashlar ruined it with a snort. She followed, her features cracking into a stupid grin, and soon they were both laughing. She stumbled forward, running another hoof through her mane to try and cool herself further. Her giggles stopped when she realized just how much she stunk from the day’s work, but that didn’t stop her from sitting down right beside Ashlar. Nor did it stop him from hugging her close and kissing her on the cheek.
She giggled again and nudged him away. “What was it you wanted?” she asked.
“My company’s not good enough?” he said, chuckling to himself. “Anyways, it’s late. I figured we’d have a bite to eat and go home.”
“Can’t we finish up now?” she asked, motioning to the couple of other marble slabs. “We’re almost done. I’m tired of this place and would much rather not come back tomorrow.”
“We’ve still got time. I’m sure we’ll be needed elsewhere after this, some place not hanging over the side of the mountain,” he teased. His horn lit up a deep blue and he floated a small wood box wrapped in cloth in front of them, dangling it in front of them like it was strung from a hook. “Besides, I brought some of my famous macaroni sandwiches...”
Her stomach warmed and growled eagerly, causing them both to laugh again. “Alright, alright,” she said. “But you owe me.”
“Food isn’t enough?” he asked, pulling open the container. The warm scent of melted cheese wafted up to her, and she happily took one with her magic. He took out the other, set the container aside and said, “Speaking of which, do you know where the kitchen is around here?”
“Doubt it’s complete.” She tore a bite out of her sandwich. “Why?”
“Trying to figure out what this room is supposed to be,” he said. He took a few bites out of his own and then unrolled the scroll with his hooves. She scooted over a little to let Ashlar set it between them, revealing a schematic of the castle’s interior layout, or at least what it would look like when finished. “Nopony tells me anything,” he muttered.
She swallowed. “Not really our business to know.”
“How can you say that?” he asked, throwing his hoof out. “We’re building the place!”
“We’re just workponies,” Lintel answered. “Besides, this room is too tall and too... unconventional to be a kitchen.”
“I was thinking it’d be used as storage. Looking at all these scaffolds, you can easily stick a bunch of shelves in here.”
She glanced around, settling on one of the two large windows overlooking the horizon. The setting sun peeked at her through the other, making her feel like she was being watched.
“I’ve never heard of a pantry, no matter how oversized, having windows,” she said. “Or a balcony,” she added, gesturing towards the space between. “Looks more like a bedroom.”
“I thought that, but look here,” he said, tapping a hoof on the schematic. “This room is nothing like those in the rest of the castle, and those are already finished. And it can’t be the Princess’ room, because I seriously doubt just any worker would be allowed to build her room. Besides, if it was for her alone, why would they put another just like it next door?”
She brushed his hoof away and saw where they were, or at least what this place would become. This room was one of a pair, much like shorter, fatter turrets that jutted out of the main body of the castle. They were out of place, not following the assembled patterns in the castle layout, held out over the mountainside like candles in an outstretched arm.
“Maybe they’re conference rooms, then?” she mused. “I mean, it doesn’t look like there’s supposed to be a bathroom.” Lintel took another bite of her sandwich and a second later nearly choked as the realization hit her. “Wait, we get to build another?!” she exclaimed, spitting crumbs.
Ashlar paused to wipe his face. “I don’t know if it’ll be us,” he muttered, returning to his food. “There’s like a thousand workponies here. Granted, not all of them are building the castle, but I do know that the important sections are just about done. It’s no secret Princess Celestia wants to move in sooner than later.”
“Aye, that she does,” came a new, raspy voice.
Lintel turned her head around, where a tall, old unicorn stood in the room’s doorway. His features were wrinkled with age, but that didn’t hinder his friendly appearance. A pair of saddlebags were draped over his back, seemingly ready to burst and break his spine, but he shouldered them like they were nothing.
“Bricklay!” Ashlar chirped, his mouth full of food. “What’re you doing here so early?”
“Early? Why, the sun’s darn near set for goodness’ sake!” he said, chuckling as he approached. “How’s it going for you, lad? Mother packed you dinner again, I see.”
Ashlar’s face fell flat. “You know I moved out of her house months ago.”
“Just pulling your leg, lad,” he said, snickering to himself. He turned and gave her a polite nod before saying, “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone to finish your meal now. Don’t mind me, just got to make sure you’re building this place up to snuff.”
“Inspecting our work already?” Ashlar asked. He tapped a hoof on the marble they were sitting on. “You know, we’re not quite done yet. Still got a couple of blocks to put in.”
“I can tell, but we’re a bit behind schedule and the bosses are getting restless. Just got to appease them so we can get paid, y’know?”
She gave him a look. “If they want us to be done faster, they could send more workponies to help.”
“Granite won’t remove itself,” he quipped, walking over towards the scaffolds and floating some instruments out of his saddlebags. “You know they’re also building a city here on this mountain, lass. Most of the available hooves are out there carving plateaus so that can get underway. Now, this might come as a surprise for you, but the Princess is a patient pony.” He winked. “She don’t mind letting us take our sweet time to make sure her castle is absolutely perfect! Now, everypony else on the other hoof...”
“They’re already moving in though,” Ashlar commented. “The staff. I think one of the Princess’ advisor’s offices is already set up.”
“Aye.” He pressed a level against the wall and took some notes. “Filling her up as the space becomes available. No kingdom’s complete without a castle, after all. I guess that’s why the bosses are so on edge. They’re more eager to get the Princess moved in more than she is, I tell you!”
“Makes sense,” Ashlar said. He shrugged, returning to finish off the rest of his sandwich. His horn flickered briefly to warm it, and he offered to do the same for her. But she continued to stare off at Bricklay, her face twisting in thought as she watched him climb a level on the scaffolds.
“Bricklay,” Lintel said, “we’ve been wondering. Do you know what room this is supposed to be?”
“I’d better!” he chirped, running a hoof along the seamless wall. “Helped the Princess design the castle myself, after all. Why else do you think I’m the one to make sure it gets built to spec?”
“Can you tell us what kind of room this is, then?” she asked again, rolling her shoulders. “Just curious.”
He rubbed his chin with a hoof. “You know, I’m not really supposed to,” he admitted, glancing her way. “Oh, but Lintel, I’d do anything for you. You’ve always been like the granddaughter I’ve never had. And Ashlar! You’re the grandson I’ve never wanted!” he yelled with a laugh.
Ashlar frowned. “Thanks, Bricklay.”
“Pulling your leg, lad!” The old stallion paused to catch his breath, and for an instant his horn flashed. There was a pop and a burst of light, and suddenly he disappeared from the scaffolds and reappeared right beside them. He glanced around the room before he leaned in close and asked, “Can you two promise to keep a secret?”
“Of course,” Lintel said, and Ashlar nodded in agreement.
“Well then!” Bricklay said, “What if I said that this is Princess Celestia’s room you two are putting together?”
“Seriously?!” Ashlar exclaimed, and then immediately started to choke on his food.
Lintel let out a small laugh. “I figured as much,” she said, finishing off the last of her sandwich.
He coughed. “You did not!”
“It’s the truth!” Bricklay said with a smile, turning away back towards the scaffolds. He looked back at the two as he wandered away, saying, “The roof might not be all the way on, and there still might be some things to put together, but the castle’s foundation’s all in place. The fact her room’s so far out meant it had to be built last, so that’s why everypony’s so antsy to get her moved in.”
Ashlar took a deep breath. “I... wow. I didn’t just, I mean, I didn’t actually think the important parts of the castle would be built by just anypony.” He paused. “Why us, though?”
“Chance?” Bricklay offered, stepping onto the scaffold’s lower floor. “And what makes you think the Princess’ bedroom is so important, anyways?”
He tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“She certainly doesn’t think so, I can tell you that. Maybe she’s just modest,” he said, returning to his work inspecting the walls. “Maybe she wants to put faith in us ponies. Maybe she just doesn’t think she’s that important? I don’t truly know. I’m not the Princess so I can’t say.”
Lintel blinked. “Why two rooms, though?” she asked, placing a hoof on the schematics. “There’s an identical one that’s going in right next door.”
“What do you mean?” Bricklay asked, turning her way. They looked at each other, a subtle gesture that let her see the slight skepticism in his eyes hiding beneath the lightheartedness of his features. A second of unresponsiveness pulled that look further out, until several moments passed and what he showed turned to pity.
Bricklay lowered his head. “Ah, you don’t know, do you?”
“Know what? she asked
He hummed, glancing up towards the sky. Lintel followed and her head snapped back, for all she saw was where stars plastered against the night. The moon was beginning to peek over the rim of the walls, spying down on her. She wondered when it got so dark, and she felt a cool chill of nighttime air sneak down her neck. She shivered, but remained seated, quietly watching the old stallion for what he’d say next. She reached over and slowly placed Ashlar’s hoof with hers.
Bricklay bit his lip. “I suppose that’s understandable. Many decades ago, well before either of you were born, there was an... incident, with the Princess. Nopony likes to talk about it much, and there’s plenty of reasons why, so don’t go blaming yourself if you don’t know.”
She slunk back. “Don’t know who?” she caught herself asking again. How’d she figure it was a ‘who’ he was talking about?
“You see,” he continued, “I was just a young colt at the time myself, but sixty or so years ago, our Princess—”
Whatever he said next was drowned out by an ear-shattering snap. Her skin crawled and she practically jumped into Ashlar’s hooves, watching helplessly in dismay as the scaffolds suddenly buckled. The twisted wood and metal crumpled in on itself, splintering and crashing right on top of Bricklay, burying him under the carnage and upheaving a massive cloud of dust.
Her blood ran cold and for a moment, everything became still. But before she could even pull herself to react, an unsettling groan leaked into the air and the whole room started to shake. The intensity quickly grew violent, and the marble walls around them began to rip like paper and fray. Tall spires around the site she could barely see before became fully exposed as the walls blocking them crumbled, only to topple themselves. The ruined scaffold jumped and fell as the floor beneath it gave way, dropping it and the wall behind into open air, and exposing a pitch-black night.
A particularly sharp jolt tore her out of Ashlar’s hooves and threw her back onto the ground. She glanced back up and her heart flew into her throat as the slab she’d been sitting on tipped over and fell into the night. She caught sight of a pair of hooves grasping the edge, and Ashlar threw himself off the slab towards her at the last instant. His hooves scraped for a solid hold but found only loose rock, and he quickly lost his grip and fell.
“Ashlar!” she yelled over the rumbling, and she dove forward, landing right at the newfound ledge. Her horn flared to life and she grabbed Ashlar with her telekinesis, casting a bright pink against the colorless background. All she saw was the stallion in her hold, and his two white, emotionless eyes.
“Lintel...” he whispered, but she ignored him and slammed her eyes shut.
“Somepony help me!” she cried, but no one could hear her. At this point, she hardly heard herself. Her hooves scuffed the floor as she tried to back up, but it was fruitless; she couldn’t even lift her head over the strain she was experiencing. All the strength she had was being poured into her magic and into her legs to keep them stiff. She couldn’t budge an inch backward without losing her grip on him. She was stuck, and the weight of that realization only ground her further.
“Lintel...” he said again, a little more forcefully and as clearly as a bell.
“Ashlar!” she gasped. Her mind was barely keeping up with the speed of her heart. “Use your magic!” she yelled over the noise. “Grab onto me and help me pull you up!”
The entire castle groaned angrily, trying its best to trip her. The walls around her continued to collapse, but miraculously all the debris skipped right by her and over the edge.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
And she did.
And the base of the mountain and the world below stared back at her from a distance so impossibly far away. Her head gravitated towards the open air and her stomach twisted, but she shut her eyes again and turned away, trying to shake off the vertigo as best she could.
Ashlar only looked up at her, with a calm, soft smile. “Let go,” he said.
She pretended not to hear. “I can pull you up!” she yelled again. “I can—”
“No you can’t,” came his gentle reply. The volume of the collapsing castle inexplicably lowered, becoming muffled. But she could still hear Ashlar perfectly. “You know you can’t. I’d just take you with me. Let me go and save yourself.”
“Ashlar!” she yelled, feeling rage quell up inside her. How dare he say such stupid things! How selfish of him to say she wasn’t strong. She thought about all the things she wanted to bark at him but the words were robbed of sound. All she could hear now was an unnatural ringing as vibrations shot up her hooves, trying to pull her down. When’d she get so exhausted? Why did she feel so cold all of a sudden? She had no idea why anything was happening. She didn’t know anything and she built this place. How stupid of her. This had to be her fault. She had to have misplaced one of the blocks in the floor. It was her fault everything was collapsing and it was her fault for being up here on this mountain and not on the ground where it was safe and it was her fault for not knowing anything about... about...
“Let me go, Lintel,” Ashlar said again.
She felt her stomach crawl up her throat. “Ashlar...!” she cried.
“Let him go,” came a voice from behind.
The floor seized beneath her, taking out her legs and throwing her onto her chest. Something sliced above her and her magic inexplicably cut out, taking with it the color from her skin. She wheezed and her mind drew blanks, trying to piece together what she so hardly wished would stay apart.
The rumbling rolled her onto her back and the brilliant full moon came into view, only to disappear behind a piercing black mass. The stars draped across it like a blanket and the moon reappeared, gurgling through the mass’s center in a vaguely familiar crescent. Silver and blue also appeared, and it took her way too long to comprehend there was a pony towering over her.
The pony was frowning deeply. “You do not know who I am?” it asked in a quiet, but lusting and angry voice.
Lintel stared at the black pony listlessly. The ground beneath one of its silver hooves cracked.
“I am Nightmare Moon!” it screamed at her. The air tremored as if it was being throttled, and more bits of castle fell away around them. “I am the shepherd of the stars, the herald of the shadow of night! I am the demon, the black sheath that shall drown this kingdom in my righteous indignation! I am your Princess!”
Nightmare Moon kicked her and she jumped awake. She blinked and found the world around her had been completely swallowed up by darkness, emptied of absolutely everything. Everything except for the scrap of marble beneath her hooves, floating in the abyss. She tried desperately not to think, to just stand there and wait for everything to be over. But her head grew too heavy to bear, and the space below grabbed her and pulled her over the edge.
Nightmare Moon gripped a sphere in her hooves, glaring at the image of two little ponies inside. They lay in bed, but the mare had tangled herself in the bedsheets causing the stallion to groggily wake. But she continued to squirm, dried tears on her cheeks, until she rolled right off the bed and crashed onto the floor with a yelp. Her eyes flew open and the image inside the sphere dissolved away.
“How can you not know?” Nightmare Moon asked the woken sphere. It shone in her hooves like a giant marble. “How could you not know who I am?!” she yelled, shaking it.
Her grip quickly slipped, and the sphere floated away from her just out of reach. Nightmare Moon gnashed her teeth and screamed a primal, angry scream, and she pushed herself at the sphere only to kick it as far away as she could. It shot into the ever-surrounding sea of others and disappeared amongst them.
Her chest heaved, and she quickly turned her attention back to a large white sphere sitting right where she had left it.
“You!” she shouted, grabbing the sphere tightly and glaring a renewed hatred upon it. “You blasted, wretched fiend! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You may have removed me bodily from the world, but you seek to wipe it of my memory as well?!”
The sphere trembled in her hooves. An image of Princess Celestia reflected back at her in uneasy sleep. Nightmare Moon pressed her face against it and narrowed her eyes.
“I did not think you could grow even more arrogant,” she hissed. “You cannot so easily rid my subjects of their rightful ruler! For every day you spend in toil, I will spend a night in natural prestige, undoing all your efforts with greater returns! By the time I return to Equestria, all the world will know my name! Do you understand me?”
The sphere flickered unsteadily. Nightmare Moon growled and forced it away from her, then floated off in search of new dreams to invade.
