Dear diary...
Dear diary,
Well, that just happened. The ‘mysterious and brooding’ Night Steward had snapped. The city is abuzz with rumours, and it will take time to figure out what exactly happened. However, her main point was made quite clear - thanks to the Royal Voice, the entire capital could hear her screaming accusations at her sister. It was an… interesting experience.
Some of my peers thought ‘twas a good idea to curry favour with her, but I knew better, and look who’d been right! I wish I could see the faces of those lunatics (ha!) as they realize they have to abandon their patron - or get dragged into the scandal.
Dear diary,
It’s been a couple of days, and the scandal is not over yet. Apparently, the Night Steward was quite serious when she declared her intent to withdraw from the captial and from the court. I did not expect that, but it presents an opportunity of a lifetime - literally, as unlike the common pony, the Stewards measure the time of their lives in centuries. And I’m far from being the only pony to understand that. The timberwolves are circling, and they smell blood.
Dear diary,
I must admit, the exodus was done in poor taste. No speeches, no threats of retribution - albeit Luna was never the eloquent one. Not even a procession through the city - a quick teleport spell, and that was it. But did she really have to pull the veil of darkness over the sky? What is the point of that, even? The pegasi are grumbling that it interferes with their navigation skills… now that I think of it, how will that affect the trade?
That'd be worth thinking over.
Dear diary,
It’s been a while, but I’ve been so busy, I could barely get any sleep! But I’m fairly sure the investments I’ve made will pay back tenfold when the public becomes aware of the impact Luna’s little tantrum had on our trade network. The sky is still dark, but then again, after dusk mares and stallions of property usually have more pleasant ways to spend their time than to stare into the sky and worry. Let the plebs waste their time on that.
Dear diary,
This is getting quite tiresome. The common ponies seem so distressed by the disappearance of the stars, they can barely get things done properly anymore! I take pride in being able to hire the most capable staff, but for the first time in years I had to remind them what needs to be done - they all seemed rather out of it. Now that I think of it, the maid could probably use a stern talking to as well. She mustn’t have made the bed properly - no wonder I slept so poorly!
Perhaps I will take a break. After all those arrangements I’ve made lately? I think I’ve earned some rest.
Dear diary,
It didn’t help. It didn’t help at all.
I closed my eyes yesterday evening. I opened them this morning. And it feels like there were no in between. And it’s not just me. All around I see weary faces. The rumour mill is linking this malaise to the Night Steward’s disappearance, and as much as I hate to admit it, I see the logic in that.
But would she really dare to place a curse upon us?
Dear diary,
Alcohol does not help. At all. I guess I will have consult specialists about the matter, and if it truly can be linked to our runaway Princess… there will be retribution. I will see the matter brought up before the Day Court, and not even Celestia will be able to keep it under wraps!
Someone beat me to it. The problem has been brought up during today’s Day Court, and the official position of the di- the monarchy, now, I guess? - is that “Princess Luna withdrew her gifts to ponykind”. What kind of response is that?! Why are her irrseponsible, irrational, destructive actions left unanswered?
This. Won’t. Stand.
Dear diary,
It’s been a while. I’m not sure how long. Days just blend together now.
The stress is getting to everypony. Some give in to violent outbursts. Most just slip into the routine, working like they are spellbound. I guess that’s why the city is still alive.
I’ve been attempting to distract myself by paying a few visitis, but even among my most trusted companions there is no respite. Most just refuse to answer. The few that did talk to me were even worse off. One of them went off onto a wild, rambling tangent as we spoke… and then I realized I didn’t even care. He could speak, sing or literally fart around, and it’d be all the same to me.
I don’t think I will be trying that again any time soon.
Dear diary,
It’s quiet. The streets are quieter during the day, but after the sunset they become outright deserted. Nopony wants to come out. Nopony wants to look into the oppressive void filling the skies. I can feel my gaze being drawn to it - instinctively, like a tongue probing the spot where a missing tooth used to be.
And worst of all, whenever I close my eyes, all I see is the same void staring at me.
Dear diary,
I’m not sure what happened! But today’s morning was wonderful. I felt… normal. Yes, normal - in the same sense as breathing is normal for somepony who had narrowly avoided drowning. Perhaps, somepony had found a way to lift this curse? I should investigate.
My investigation returned nothing. Few ponies even mentioned feeling somewhat better, and as the sun sets, I can see the void smothering the cityscape again.
Dear diary,
It must’ve been some kind of cruel twist - to grant us a moment of respite, only to deny it so soon afterwards. Like teasing a beggar with a golden bit, yanking it away at the last moment.
I have to admit, Luna had made her point. She had proven that she can make our life quite difficult by simply being absent. Can we strike a deal, now?
Dear diary,
I was thinking. There is little else I can do these days. Just sitting, and thinking of how it used to be. Thinking of the moon shining through the windows. I realize now that I no longer remember what it looked like. Was that memory taken, too? Or was it me never paying attention?
I think I’d go with her. If she called, I’d follow her. She only needs to call us, and everypony will follow, now. When will she call us? Tomorrow? Next month? Next year?
…Will she call us?