Words on a Page
Black, black, black, black,
Black grows my mind like an old dead tree
Luna quietly read back the words of the poem she had written a thousand years ago, a time when she had been caught in the swirling vortex of destructive emotions that tugged her mercilessly between her duty as a Princess, and jealousy of her sister.
She had needed an outlet, and her uniquely personal brand of poetry had been it. It wasn’t the sort of verse that would ever be likely to gain acceptance from any publisher, save one who just happened to know the identity of the author, and wanted to gain Royal approval. However, this was to miss its significance; for it was never intended for public consumption, but an unrequited expression of inner anguish offered as a prayer for salvation.
Luna knew that the poem, and others like it had been there, even if her recollection of the exact words had been lost to the passage of time. Indeed, she had not intended to read so far into the old journal as to encounter them, but had sought instead to revisit happier memories by immersing herself in her foalhood, a time before maturity had forced her to accept the responsibility that was her birthright. Yet, she had been caught unawares by the abruptness with which the entries had ceased extolling her favourite games and switched to rambling verse which was both disturbingly dark and brooding.
The few pages within which the tone of the writing had changed so completely did not, of course represent the speed with which the transformation had taken place, but moreover it had been the fact that she had stopped writing for a long period, worried that all she had to comment on was her favourite slide. With hindsight she wished she had continued; looking back now, she could see that not enough, rather than too much time had been devoted to the pleasures of such innocent youthful delights.
Her initial embarrassment at rediscovering these words melted quickly into a burden of shame, as she recalled that, unanswered, this had been the final cry for attention before she gave up the struggle and turned her negativity - all of it - headlong into her sister.
“Oh, Tia” she whispered, her voice cracking with the sudden appearance of a large lump that had risen in her throat, “I am so sorry.”
She turned away, unwilling to meet the entirety of the guilt that waited for her on the opened pages before her. How wrong she had been, yet how overpowering had been the desire to destroy her sister; her dear, sweet and ultimately forgiving sister.
A dampness trickled down her muzzle as a testament to those last few unread words.
Poor Tia, unaware of what had awaited her that fateful night.
Gently, lest it disturb the memories within, she closed the pages and shed one more tear as a parting offering, before leaving the light from the candle to pick out the flickering gilt embossed relief on the cover. She closed her eyes and tried to recapture the carefree moments when she had written about her slide, but found her happy memories tainted by the foreshadowing that prophesied her downfall.
Even though the journal was now closed, something in that last haunting entry had been awakened from its long slumber and called to her across the years, reaching out and drawing her in. Curiosity required her to investigate what it demanded, but she checked herself, all too aware that giving in to such forces without being fully prepared could be dangerous.
The period of reflection she allowed herself was dogged by the omnipresent lure that she somehow found herself unable to shake off, and knew that whatever force this was would come to play on her mind unless she was able to fully resolve it. Worse, an unsettling portent suggested that it may yet have wider implications beyond her mere curiosity, and as such it was her responsibility, nay, her duty to investigate further.
Thus, it was with trepidation that she took her courage in her hooves and transcended into the dream realm, the steady flicker of the solitary candle being her sole guardian in the waking world.
The familiar landscape of dreams came into focus through the swirling mists that shielded this place from the intrusion of all but dream walkers, and she was the only one; this was her domain.
Everything seemed normal, yet she knew to expect something out of place; her heightened senses hadn’t stopped screaming at her since she had arrived, and as she moved her foreleg to take its first step, an involuntary shudder ran up her spine.
Luna was at pains to ensure that she kept a casual gait, even if nopony would be there to see her; she found that looking calm was a good way to feel calm, and thereby make better decisions under pressure. But, although she forced an outward appearance of normality, her teal eyes were restless, darting about keenly for signs of anything unusual; she didn’t know what it was, but suspected it would be obvious.
She walked on through the dreamscape, as if crossing a misty field just before dawn, pausing for no longer than was necessary to cast a maternal eye over the dreams of her charges, lest they be in any danger, either from their own worries, or perhaps something more sinister.
An unusual black translucent bubble caught her eye, and as she drew closer, became aware that it was neither an artefact that had been here before, nor one that had any right to belong. Circling it warily, she tried to make out what she could, but a brooding darkness swirled around inside, denying her access. There was movement within, and she felt, rather than saw, that she was being observed as she walked carefully around its circumference.
Stepping back, Luna cautiously lit her horn and directed its aura towards the dream bubble, which radiated back a blue glow in response to her magic.
“Puzzling” she said to herself, upon being able to see into it no more than before, “That should have lifted the opacity. What are you?”
“What am I indeed?” came a reply she wasn’t expecting.
Luna stood stock still, her eyes wide. Never had she known the owner of a dream to be able to communicate outside of a bubble before.
That voice …
So familiar …
As she watched, spellbound, the bubble peeled open from the top like a seedcase disgorging its fruit; four smoky black petals that had formed the skin of the bubble pulling open to reveal a sight inside that made her blood run cold.
A jet-black figure she had only ever seen in the mirror smiled, revealing fangs counterpointing a set of razor-sharp teeth and evil eyes with vertically slit reptilian irises staring back into her soul, removing any doubt as to who she was facing.
“How nice of you to come and release me” sneered the interloper with oily precision, “It has been so long, I was starting to think you didn’t want to see me again.”
“But … but it cannot be you …” Luna stammered, “I … I was released from you. You became me … that is why I am here.”
The helmeted figure stared back malevolently, her smile broadening.
“If … if you are here, then … then …”
“Then you no longer exist” completed the incarnation of Nightmare Moon in a matter-of-fact tone, stepping out of the unwrapped dream bubble and advancing, each hoofstep being purposefully planted as she closed on the shocked Princess through the mist that toyed around her hooves.
Luna shook her head in disbelief, trying to clear her head. This had to be a bad dream – right?
“Oh, my poor Luna” drawled Nightmare Moon, “You never were very bright, were you? It was always your sister with the brains, the looks and the power. And she hated you, didn’t she …?”
Luna’s hackles had risen with each taunt and now, like a fully wound spring, she was ready to unleash awful retribution with any one of a dozen spells that begged to be released from her repertoire and end this particular problem in a flash of magic.
“My Sister loves me” she growled, bracing her forelegs and angling her head slightly down, eyes fixed firmly on the black mare before her, giving her horn a clear aim at the arrogant adversary.
“Oh, do power that silly thing down Luna. It’s embarrassing to think I haven’t considered your every move” Nightmare Moon lectured patronisingly, noticeably unfazed, “Have you stopped to consider that you and I are linked, and so whatever you do to me, you would by default, do to yourself?”
“To protect Equestria, that would be a price I would willingly pay” Luna snarled menacingly, muscles tensed, gaze unwavering.
“Oh?” replied Nightmare Moon nonchalantly, “And if you should lose, then I would reign unopposed across the dream realm. Can you even begin to imagine the damage I could cause to all the ponies of Equestria, every time they dared to go to sleep? Is their suffering a price that you are prepared to pay for challenging me?”
The blue glow around the Princess’s horn slowly died and her defiant stare melted into an expression of defeat.
“Good girl, Luna. If you keep doing what I say, then we’ll get along just fine.”
Luna scowled, disgusted with her own lack of resolve, hating herself for her inability to act.
Nightmare Moon took a few steps further forward, blatantly disregarding any pretence at respecting personal space, and leered down at her humbled opponent.
“Oh, you pathetic simpleton” she gloated, the words dripping with saccharin sweet poison, “Don’t you get it? Only one of us is going back into the waking world, and you have shown that you don’t have the resolve to take me on, so it’s going to be me. When I get there, the night will last forever!”
Bitter tears of anguish stung at Luna’s eyes and she felt her body begin to crumple. She felt worthless.
“Now, deliver me there!” Nightmare Moon demanded.
Luna was dumbfounded. Why had an alicorn of such power asked her to perform what, for a dream walker, should have been such a basic function of transcending between worlds? Surely, she must have misheard …
“What?” asked Luna, raising her eyes in disbelief.
“You heard!” screamed Nightmare Moon, “Deliver me to the waking world!”
Luna drew her sagging body back up to its regal stature as the ebb of her self-confidence began to flow back.
“Why exactly should I help you?” she asked calmly.
“Because I am telling you to!” the shrill reply shot across the short space between them.
Luna stared coldly, then in one swift calculated move swiped out with a forehoof, crossing the small gap between them in an instant.
Nothing.
Her forehoof arced freely through the space where her eyes told her that Nightmare Moon’s outstretched foreleg was.
“What have you done?” screamed the black apparition as the image of her foreleg began to break down into myriad tiny black fragments that swirled into an unseen vortex, before dissolving into the ether. Nightmare Moon held out her foreleg and stared at it, eyes grown wide with fear as the fragmenting process spread up towards her body, eating her where she stood. She thrashed what was left of her foreleg wildly around in a desperate attempt to halt the creeping progress of its inexorable disappearance, but its advance towards her body would not be slowed.
“I am a part of you and always will be!” she screamed, “The seeds of jealousy and rage you planted in your diary will always be there, waiting to reclaim you …”
Luna watched as the body before her progressively disappeared leaving the head still suspended magically where it had been, the last of her image dissipating as the unfinished poison filled words left her lips. Then her face melted away leaving nothing but the crystal translucence of Nightmare Moon’s eyes staring accusingly at her, before they too pixelated and swirled around to follow the other tiny pieces into oblivion.
Luna stood and took stock of what had just happened, adjusting to the stillness all around her. No physical trace of the weird encounter remained; even the remains of the discarded dream bubble had gone - the dreamscape was just as it should be once more.
Her encounter with the apparition had seemed so vivid, so frighteningly real, right up to the point when it revealed it had no magic. This brought Luna alive to the possibility that it was a projection from the emotions stored within words on the page. With nothing to lose, she played her hunch and watched as it had disappeared at the same rate that she ceased to believe in it being real.
Once her composure had calmed to match the tranquillity all about her, Luna contemplated the entries in her journal further. She had a thought: if the entries were as real as she believed them to be, then perhaps her visit may not have been wasted after all …
Newly confident, she allowed her mind to reach out to the embossed tome, still laying where it had been left on a table beside a flickering candle in another dimension. She focused hard and another dream bubble slowly began to materialise in response, as she hoped it would.
This one was light blue and floated in the swirling mists of the dreamscape in just the same way as all other dreams did. Luna pointed her horn towards it and saw the translucent skin of the bubble shimmer as she approached and then passed into it.
Sure enough, there was the happy filly who had once written in the journal. She turned her young teal eyes toward the newcomer and called out, “Hello! Would you like to try my new slide? It is so much fun! Oh, please come and join me - we will have such a nice time together!”
Luna began to trot towards the light blue filly, then broke into a happy gallop, smiling widely and giggling in a most unregal manner.
“Wait for me!” she called back happily.