It was dark. There was nothing. An infinite void of absolutely nothing. He was vaguely aware of the darkness, but didn’t dwell on it. He didn’t dwell on anything. He spent no time contemplating the decisions he’d made. He didn’t ruminate on the life he’d led. He was, however, sad. He didn’t know why, necessarily. He just felt… lost.

The world around him held no sensations, no sounds, smells, nothing. He couldn’t even tell if he was floating or not. As he tumbled through wherever he was, he felt sorrow, self-pity even. He’d fought so hard to cling to the life he was given and he was ripped away from it. No, he wasn’t. He let go himself. That was the only explanation. That was the only answer he could salvage from the affair. It was his fault that he lost. It was he who killed himself, in a way. There was no one to blame except for himself. It was always he who was the source of his problems, not others. Not the monarchy, not his parents, not even the creatures, despicable as they were. He could blame nobody except for himself.

Not that it mattered now. It was done. The world would go on, he wouldn’t. At least that bit of knowledge was slightly hopeful, in a way. He was glad that the rest of the world didn’t share in his despair.

It almost felt like years passed him by as he remained in the unknown place. He had nary an inkling about the ways time passed in wherever dishwashers were sent after death. Did time even exist wherever he was? Probably not. What would the dead do with time? He did wish for some place more peaceful he could spent his days sulking in, though. Perhaps a sense of tranquility would ease his passing.

As if summoned by his wish, he slowly began to sense something. A sensation… cold. Very… very cold. Absolutely frigid. He was slowly beginning to freeze. He wanted to hug himself for warmth, attempting to clasp his hooves around his body, but couldn’t. He… couldn’t move? But he was moving… he could already make the motions. But at the same time, he couldn’t.

Another feeling joined that of the cold chill, a feeling of motion. It felt as if he were falling… or shooting upwards… he couldn’t tell which. His mane and tail whipped about as if in the wind. But there was no wind. He was being acted upon by some unseen force, being given momentum by something from beyond the veil. The veil? Was there a veil? Where was he? Something dawned on him, a tingling in the back of his mind. An aura of awareness encased his befuddled consciousness.

He suddenly didn’t know where he was. He discovered that he could now gauge where the chills and pushing forces acted on his body. He could actually feel his body fully now, as if for the first time. He became aware of the fact that his eyes were closed. They weren’t open before? He tried to wrench them open, finding them stubbornly screwed shut. Through a long and brutal struggle, he finally was able to part his lids.

As his eyes fluttered open a few millimeters, he could see something above him, something that was changing colors from blue to white at a random intervals. Upon opening his eyes a little more, he could more accurately decrypt the puzzling message his retinas sent to him. It was the sky. It wasn’t far away either. He was… in it? He began to hear something, a voice. Two voices. They both sounded distressed. His first coherent thought came to be.

What’s happening? Where am I?

He could tell that the voices came from somewhere off to his side. It was difficult, but he had managed to turn his head slightly in order to lay eyes upon whoever was talking. He saw the hooded figure, the one that came from the… light? The event seemed so far away now, like a dream. He couldn’t quite remember what exactly had occurred, he simply knew two things: He was dead, and the figure was familiar. Although, the former fact was quickly becoming more and more unclear.

The reaper screamed at someone in front of it, Rags couldn’t see who. It merely shouted at the oncoming clouds, which seemed to shout back. There was a second voice, but the speaker was invisible. Both sounded perturbed, panicked even. Not that he could actually hear the words they spoke.

Rags’ new-found consciousness grew weak. He was rapidly losing strength. Things began going dark once more, and all feeling drained from the body he wasn’t sure he had. He didn’t bother fighting against it. After all, he was dead.

Rags…

Raaaags…

Wake up…

RAGS!

Rags’ eyes shot open, revealing the world around him to his wild and confused pupils. He jolted upwards from the laid down position he didn’t know he was in. He frantically threw his gaze around, taking in everything around him, trying to process the situation. He was in a room, but not one like anything he’d ever seen before.

The room was huge, bigger than every room in Nougat’s house combined, he surmised. The walls, floor, and ceiling were carved into elaborate shapes of marble and stone, all adorned in fantastic fabric decor and masterfully crafted paintings. Expertly made furniture was placed here and there, the most exquisite of which was set in front of a beautiful hearth in the corner of the room. Rags finally took notice of the bed he wasn’t aware of being in before, and that too was a creation of stunningly skillful make, with brilliantly soft sheets and blankets that were not too thick, but not too thin.

The room was dimly illuminated by natural light transcending through a fine set of glass doors leading to a platform with nothing but empty blue space visible past its railings. Rags didn’t have a single inclination to his current status or location, so perhaps traversing outside would reveal something to him. Or maybe not. In reality, he just couldn’t sit still any longer. His curiosity was swelling fiercely within him.

Tossing the covers off himself and sliding off the inviting bed onto an adroitly weaved red carpet with golden laces on the borders, he noticed that the abysmally large quantities of pain he once felt were all but gone. Very odd. He would expect one who previously had every bone in their body shattered all at once to at least be in just a smidgen of unbridled agony.

Am I… still dead?

Feeling a trace of that atrocious sense of uncertainty that had so fervently dogged him in the past, he slowly crept towards the door. His steps were light and hesitant, the steps one would use to sneak around a sleeping giant. After more time than what was necessary, he finally made it to the door. He looked through the glass and saw nothing out of the ordinary, no oddities that might have suggested something was amiss. With a large gulp, he parted the glass and stepped out.

Immediately upon walking out onto the balcony, he found that the intense chills returned, brought to him by small gusts of wind. He was also immediately blinded by an intense light. Sunlight. The real deal. No danger. That alone made him feel like breaking down into a sobbing heap and crying tears of joy. But when his eyes adjusted to the light, he found himself wanting to break down and cry with joy for an entirely different reason.

The scene before him was utterly spectacular. The balcony was high, putting him nearly beyond the sparse cloud cover and giving him a bird’s eye view of everything. Looking ahead was like looking out over a vast blue sea of delicately rolling white waves as far as the eye could see. The rays of the sun struck the clouds in a way that seemed to make them glow invitingly. He found himself just wanting to jump from the balcony and fly through the heavenly puffs and sore with the birds through the endless blue of the sky.

But that was merely the sight before him. Looking below, he could see all that could be seen on the land as well. Beneath him was a glorious city, imposing in its staggering architectural magnificence and teeming with life. Amidst the splendid and inspiring towers of white and blue was the hustle and bustle of a prosperous metropolis. Trains snaked in and out of the city, ant-sized figures cluttered the sidewalks, and the sounds of some form of large sporting event echoed through the air.

Further out was a small village located just outside of the Everfree. It was quaint looking by comparison. He knew what town it was, he knew it all too well. He’d spent his whole life there. There in that place that seemed so alien from where he stood. It was such a marvel to Rags. He could see everything, miles upon miles of land, a massive world splayed out before his eyes, larger than he could have ever imagined, and yet, this small village was no more than a dot in the middle of it all. He’d spent the whole of his life, every waking day of his existence, in this one tiny speck of a hamlet that lay nestled amongst the expansive realm. It was a bit of a depressing thought, but that depression was overshadowed by a feeling of freedom, of release. He was out! He’d escaped that infinitesimally puny spot, and was out in the world!

There was no doubt about it. The ecstasy he was in, the happiness he felt… he was most assuredly alive. Not only alive, but he was in Canterlot! Not only in Canterlot, but judging from the high position of the balcony and the way it overlooked all in creation, he was in the Canterlot Castle itself!

It was all enough to almost make him temporarily forget his worries and strife. Just the mere connotations of being free from Ponyville, what that meant to him, brought him more than enough joy. But coupled with the fact that he was in Canterlot Castle, the place where he once thought all his hopes would come to life in, it put him in a mood of total bliss. Add to it still with the sheer beauty and surrealism of towering over the land as he did, and it made him want to leap with unbridled glee that toppled even the likes of the pink one from the bakery. He almost felt… content.

This, he thought, was one of the happiest moments of his life.

A knock came to the door back inside the room. Rags, caught off guard as he was too busy reveling in the moment, nearly jumped. The door creaked open and a stallion in gold-plated armor stuck his head in. He looked around for a moment, a worried expression on his face as he evidently was not expecting Rags to be out of bed, before seeing the dishwasher standing on the balcony. As soon as he saw this, he gasped, bounded into the room, and launched himself towards Rags, pounding his wings for added momentum.

“Hello, officer! What can I do for ACK--” Rags was interrupted in his cheerful greeting when the guard skidded to a halt before him, grabbed him by the fur on his chest, and violently threw him inside. Rags landed with a thud and a “OMPH”, rubbing the back of his head to ease the throbbing pain. The guard was standing over him before he knew it, the officer’s face wild and frightened.

“HOW MANY HOOVES AM I HOLDING UP!?” the soldier barked.

“Wha--”

“WAS ANYONE ELSE HERE!?”

“N-No, I--”

“WHAT WHERE YOU DOING OUT THERE!?” The guard was frantic in his demeanor, as if he’d just seen a ghost.

“N-Nothing! I was just, you know, taking in the scenery!” Rags said, holding his hooves over his face to protect himself from the guard’s crazy.

The guard looked the dishwasher over for a second and finally sighed, wiping a foreleg across his forehead.

“Please don’t kill me,” Rags pleaded from behind his hooves.

“Come on, look, I’m… sorry about all that. It was just, ugh… protocol,” the guard said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

“It’s protocol to tackle guests to ground!? In that case, good work, you crazy bag of crazy!” Rags snapped, still cowering from the muscular officer as he insulted him.

“No, it’s actually part of the new protocol that Princess Twilight personally set in place just for you,” the guard said indignantly.

Rags took down his defensive hoof-shield to give the guard a puzzled look.

“Come with me, everything will be explained,” the guard said as he offered a hoof to help Rags up.

Rags followed the guard down the halls of the castle, treating the affair more like a sightseeing tour than a military escort. He looked in awe at the astonishingly lavish royal halls and the decor therein. He passed amazing tapestries, portraits of figures, both military and royal, and shields emblazoned with fascinating symbols. Although he wasn’t overly fond of the suits of knight armor. The hollow shells were rather eerie, haunting even.

They walked through the halls, Rags ogling everything on the way, until they reached a large chamber with two sets of stairs and a giant pair of doors. The guards instructed the non-military stallion to follow him down the steps, at the bottom of which being the location where they finally stopped. They sat there in front of the doors for a reason unspecified to Rags. He decided to change that fact.

“So, what are we doing here, friendo?” Rags asked.

“Please don’t call me that, and we are awaiting the arrival of Her Majesties, Princesses Celestia, Twilight, and Cadance,” the guard explained.

“Sure, sure, alright,” Rags said, happy to go back to looking at everything like an attention-deficit foal. At least until he noticed something about the guard’s words. There was a distinct lack of mention of the Princess of the Night. “Hey, what about Luna?”

“Princess Luna,” the guard corrected harshly, “And she resides here in the castle.” The guard’s words had grown inexplicably biting suddenly.

“Uhm… sorry,” Rags said sheepishly, taken aback by the guard’s tone. “Say, I vaguely remember being kinda dead, and, not that I’m not ecstatic about being not-dead or anything, I was just wondering, how did I get to be… well, living again?” Rags inquired.

“As I stated, all will be explained,” the guard nearly barked.

Rags decided it would probably be best if he didn’t prod the soldier any further and refrained from speaking of that subject anymore. They waited in the grand entrance hall for another ten or so minutes. Rags occasionally tried to pass the time with small talk or a joke, the guard coincidentally having sudden fits of facial twitches on each occasion.

Yeesh, this could only get more awkward if we were both naked, Rags thought. Wait a minute…

The doors began to part before Rags could finish his thought. A precession of powerful looking guards, led by the Prince himself, Shining Armor, marched into the entrance hall. They all stepped to either side of the long, red carpet stretching across the floor and unsheathed trumpets. They began playing a triumphant tune as they stood at attention, and moments later, the expected monarchs themselves made their grand entrance. Their poise was elegant, their stride refined and dignified, and their mere presence both imposing and majestic at the same time. Rags suddenly felt very small.

As they approached, the guard beside Rags gave a bow and sidled away quietly, leaving him to face the rulers alone. The princesses stopped before him, and the anthem ceased. Celestia looked down on the scrawny, nearly-quivering stallion and smiled warmly. “Welcome to Canterlot, my little one.”

Rags swallowed and bowed, stammering out his best greeting. “Greetings, Your Majesty.” Remembering that there were two other princesses present, he added “And Your Majesty,” as he looked to Twilight, finally looking to Cadance, “And… Your Majesty,” and finishing with another awkward bow.

The other two royals smiled as well, as Celestia spoke again. “I wish you were brought to our fair city under more pleasant circumstances, but I fear that you have been summoned here due to… a rather dire situation.”

Rags furrowed his brow at this. “But… Your Majesty, I thought I was here to get help for my, uh, ‘problem’,” Rags said with air quotes. The princesses all shared looks with each other, expressions appearing disheartened.

Celestia cleared her throat and said gravely, “Let us continue in the throne room. This is something that requires… privacy.” There was something hidden under the grand ruler’s words that Rags couldn’t exactly put a hoof on, some sort of emotion. But he couldn’t detect what it was precisely. Undoubtedly, this was due to the princess’s years worth of speech training, something a royal such as herself was sure to have been taught heavily in.

As the princesses made their way to the throne room, Rags followed, as did several guards and the prince, who tried to hide his expression of sorrow from Rags.

Finally, after several minutes of walking in awkward silence, with Rags trying not to stare at the royal flanks, they arrived at the throne room. Two guards parted the doors and ushered them inside. Shining Armor and a few, what appeared to be, high ranking officers were the only others permitted inside.

With only two thrones, one for the sun and the other for the moon, Twilight allowed Celestia and Cadance to take the seats, seeming content to stand beside a familiar looking hooded figure that was waiting for them inside the room. They shared hushed whispers and the occasional grimace with each other.

Rags was instructed to sit no closer than twenty five feet from the rulers. A few more minutes passed, minutes filled with nothing but whispers amongst the royals and military personnel, leaving Rags to sit patiently and twiddle his hooves until the Princess of the Sun cleared her throat and all who were present quieted themselves.

“So, Rags, was it? That is quite an interesting name for a pony,” Celestia pointed out. What a strange thing to bring up, the dishwasher thought. Weren’t there more pressing matters to attend to? As odd as it was, Rags would have to be daft to shrug off a remark from the princess, and it was clearly more of a question of origins anyway. It would be impolite, and very stupid, on his part not to address it.

He cleared his throat before replying. “Yeah-- I mean, yes. That’s what everyone calls me, but I don’t think it’s my actual name.”

“Really?” Celestia asked with a small smile.

“Yeah, it’s actually a nickname my parents gave me. I’m… adopted,” Rags said, slight irritation present in his voice as he let that final word pass his lips. “I was more like their maid than their son…”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Were they… abusive?”

Rags looked up, genuinely surprised at the forward nature of the question. “Oh no no no, they were perfectly decent folks, they just… didn’t seem to care too much for me. They were loaded, you see, too busy swimming in their bits to do that. Or to toss a little cash my way for college. Or to call every once in a while. Or to tell me they loved me…”

“Hmm…” Celestia changed the subject. “How are you feeling?”

Another strange question. Yet, Rags rolled with it. “Actually, not too bad, all things considered. Canterlot is definitely a breath of fresh air. I spent my whole life down there in Ponyville, so it’s pretty exciting being out of that dump, finally.”

“Most of my friends are from Ponyville,” Twilight cut in with a minor glare.

Rags stared blankly at her, trying desperately in his mind to come up with a good save. “That… dump of… nice… things… because it’s a nice things dump where nice things go…”

Flawless.

Twilight rolled her eyes and let him continue.

“Other than that, I feel pretty rested up, too. Hey, uh, I’ve been meaning to ask, I faintly remember catching a case of the dead, is there some reason I’m cured? Not that, you know, I don’t appreciate, like, not being dead or anything, I was just uh… yeah.” Rags rubbed his foreleg uncomfortably. A smooth operator he was not.

“That would be my doing,” the voice of a mare said. The hooded figure stepped forth and pulled back her hood to reveal a unicorn horn. “Healing magic, and lots of it. Probably about five regenerative potions as well. To put that in perspective, just one of those can have someone who’s just broken over half the bones in their body back up on their hooves in a few minutes. You were in bad shape to say the least.”

“Oh… well that’s… thanks?” Rags stammered, half relieved, half disturbed.

The mare turned to Princess Twilight. “When the other escort and I arrived, there was no doubt about it anymore. It didn’t try to make it seem like he was merely going mad, it didn’t bother to try and hide the fact that it was trying to kill him. That means your theory is correct, Princess.”

“Thank you. Return to the aid of the other mages,” Twilight commanded. The mare bowed and trotted hurriedly out of the throne room.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, but what? It? Theory? Aid the other mages?” Rags could feel a pit forming in his stomach. The way they talked and the haste with which they acted… he had a bad feeling.

The princesses all looked to each other and sighed. Celestia spoke for them all. “I suppose… it’s down to business, then.” The Sun Princess affixed Rags with a stern look. “Rags… My little one… You are Equestria’s only hope for survival.”

Rags stared for a long while, his mouth hung agape. He looked to the prince standing off to the side for confirmation of what he just heard. Shining Armor merely shrugged. The dishwasher looked back to the princess and stuck a hoof in his ear, twisting it around. “I’m… I’m terribly sorry, Your Majesty, but I seem to have misheard you. Would you mind too terribly running that by me again?”

Celestia sighed. “You are all that stands between every living being in Equestria and certain death.”

Rags cocked his head to one side so that one ear was facing the floor and he slapped the other side of his head a few times. “Jeez, whatever is stuck in my ear must really be jammed in there, because I could have sworn that you just told me that I had to save everything. How crazy is that?” Rags said with a nervous chuckle.

The princesses merely looked down at him with indignant eyes.

“P-Princess? A-Aren’t you going to tell me why I’m really here?”

No response.

“It’s a surprise birthday party, isn’t it? I forgot that it was my birthday and now that annoying pink mare is gonna jump out at me and yell ‘Surprise! It’s your almost-crapped-yourself-because-you-thought-you-heard-the-princess-say-something-really-crazy-and-also-really-scary party!’ right?”

Celestia started, “Rags…”

“Nope!” he cut in with freakish levels of glee.

“Listen to me--”

“Ain’t havin’ it!”

“Hey! You can’t talk to the princess like that!” a guard stated.

“Well, officer, the princess has clearly gone mad. I suggest we commit her immediately, for you see, she claims that I’m supposed to save the world! Ridiculous! What next, will she start calling herself the Banana Queen!?”

“That’s enough, Rags!” Celestia barked as he stood and stomped a hoof ground. The dishwasher’s ears pinned back in hurt.

“You can’t… be serious, right?” Rags asked meekly, not even attempting to mask his fear of the possible truth of Celestia’s words.

The Sun Goddess sighed and sat back down, lowering her tone. “I know it must be difficult to grasp, so allow me to explain.”

Rags stayed quiet and listened.

“It is our understanding that the events you claim to experience, these monster attacks, are not a fabrication at all. Our belief in this was cemented when we sent the escort to retrieve you this morning and received a report saying that both you and your home--”

“Friend’s home.”

“What?”

“That was my friend’s home.” Rags thought briefly of how Nougat would react to the destruction.

“Would you like an explanation or not?” Celestia said, annoyed at the interruption. Rags quieted himself. Everyone he’d encountered so far seemed highly irritated. He’d expect such attitudes what with an apparent threat hanging over them all, but something about their snappiness seemed weird to Rags, like there was another reason. He forgot about it for the moment and listened.

“The damage done, both to you and your home, was irrefutable proof that you weren’t simply going mad. Well… that is only a half truth. You see, you aren’t mentally ill in the traditional sense, but you are being afflicted by something. Twilight?” Celestia gestured for the Princess of Magic to take the floor. She nodded and did so.

“As I’ve told you before, I believed there to be a force at work, something magical and malevolent in nature. I thought it was a powerful spell of some sort that tampered with everyone’s memories and brought you under attack. As it turns out… I was right. There is a force at work, a great evil, acting upon the denizens of Equestria, including us.” Twilight motioned to the other royals as well. Rags swallowed heavily. Things were only sounding worse as the princess went on. Even the royals were affected by this force? They bordered on God-hood in their power, making Rags fear what this evil could do to a lowly dishwasher such as himself.

“I’ve noticed that everyone starts to feel incredibly and inexplicably tired around eight P.M., and I myself have yet to stay awake past nine. Our memories and dreams feel tampered with, as the other princesses and higher-level mages have been quick to agree. It’s as though we’re being manipulated into not noticing the event. It’s very subtle magic that alters our minds, only detectable by those adroit in the most advanced magical arts. The effect applies to everyone… except for yourself.”

Rags shifted uncomfortably on his hooves. He didn’t like where this was going.

“You are entirely immune to the spell, which also, if what you’ve said is to be true, transports all afflicted by it to another location. However, the caster evidently finds the fact that you are not under the spell’s effect most troubling. That must be why you are attacked every night. The one responsible sees you as a possible hindrance, a threat to their grand scheme. That is why… you are the only one who can help us,” Twilight finished grimly.

“Lords…” Rags felt sick to his stomach. This news was too much to bear. He was the only one who could do anything? He was supposed to save all of Equestria? Ludicrous! It wasn’t possible, it simply couldn’t be true! That was the sort of thing that happened in adventure books like Daring Do, not to regular ponies like himself. He debated whether or not it was all just a sick fantasy, a dream cooked up by his anxious and fearful subconscious. Or perhaps he was still dead and this was a horrid pocket of hellish torment devised just for him in the pits of Tartarus.

He was finally getting the answers he so craved, and he was quickly discovering that being in the know wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Awful as it was, he had to press on, get the whole picture. If he was going to get answers, he was going to get them all. Trepidation obvious in his shaky voice, he dared to ask a question.

“Y-You said that there was a caster… some kind of… evil mastermind? Who is it?... Who’s the jack-off doing this to me!?” Rags said, quivering slightly. As if to answer his question, a masculine voice cried from outside the throne room doors.

“PRINCESS! PRINCESS, PLEASE COME QUICK! IT’S AWAKE!”

Celestia’s face displayed an expression of horror. Twilight and Cadance looked at each other with terrible sadness. The princesses and prince, followed by the guards, all began dashing for the door. Rags sat with his mouth dumbly hanging open in a look of confusion. “Uhh… what’s ‘it’?”

Everyone clearly being too busy making a mad rush for the entrance to answer his inquiry, Rags decided to simply follow them and see for himself, though, he had a pretty good guess that what he was about to learn wasn’t going to be nice.

He gingerly followed them as they threw the doors apart, leading Celestia to gasp. Whatever could make a powerful leader such as herself do that was undoubtedly unpleasant. With great care, he stepped to the front of the crowd, stopping in between Celestia and Twilight.

Looking upwards towards the Sun Goddess’s face, he could see gleaming tears trickling down her porcelain cheeks. “Is something the matter, Your Majesty?”

“Tiaaa…” A voice said from somewhere ahead of Rags. He looked towards what everyone else was gawking at, finally seeing what all the commotion was about.

Beyond the two guards that stood at attention outside of the throne room doors, both of which were now trembling fiercely with utter terror on their faces and baring their weapons, stood the Goddess of the Moon.

Princess Luna.

Rags felt inward relief at the sight of the recently returned Sister to the Sun. He remembered her interesting visit to Ponyville a few Nightmare Nights ago. She was the life of the party. Remembering that he was a guest in the palace, he began to bow respectfully. ‘Greetings, Your Highness--”

Twilight quickly put an urgent hoof on Rags’ shoulder to silence him. He gave a befuddled look to the Element of Magic and saw that she shook her head at him with great fervor. Confounded, Rags looked back to Luna and began to notice something… off, about her.

Her typically blue coat was paler in color, and matted all over. Her posture was not what he would expect from a princess either, as she slouched and shifted about groggily. Her bedraggled mane lacked the flowing elegance of Celestia’s, and hung listlessly around her head, concealing her eyes. An odd liquid dripped from the corner of her mouth… a thick, black liquid.

Something was very wrong.

“I nnnneeed a glassss of wwaaater…” Luna’s voice fluctuated in tone at random intervals, from that of a normal pony, to a low, raspy whisper of unnatural proportions. The request was directed at Celestia, who worked her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but didn’t, instead sobbing silently.

The hooded mare from earlier, joined by several similar figures, came barreling around the corner.

“There she is!”

“Don’t get too close!”

“Get the constraint spell ready, quick!”

They surrounded her, horns glowing with magical auras. Muttering strange words in unison, they all simultaneously released a shimmering, blue mist from their foreheads. It enveloped Luna and slowly levitated her off the ground. Without any struggled, several of the mages slowly pushed their hovering princess down the hall with their mental hold, all present holding their breath as they ventured back around the corner from whence they came.

After half a minute of quiet waiting with bated breath, the hooded mare, who had stayed behind after the spell was cast, broke the silence. “Whew, that was a close one. Good thing she didn’t have one of her weird freak ou--”

“WHY IS SHE OUT OF HER ROOM!?” Celestia bellowed furiously at the mage in the royal intones of the Canterlot Voice, the suddenness of which making Rags scramble to cover his ears.

The hooded mare was ostensibly stunned by the outburst, stuttering incoherently as she tried to think of an adequate response. “S-S-She teleported, Your Majesty! We were unaware that she was capable of channeling magic like tha--”

“I DON’T WANT EXCUSES! IF IT HAPPENS AGAIN, YOU’LL BE THROWN IN THE DUNGEON UNTIL THE END OF YOUR DAYS, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?” Celestia roared ferociously.

“Y-Yes, Your Highness,” the mare squeaked, tears brimming in her eyes as she shamefully trotted down the hall to join the other mages.

Celestia turned and cantered promptly back to her seat on the throne, weeping, but trying to hide it. The other princesses and the guards returned to their posts as well, leaving Rags alone in the doorway, staring down the hall. He looked towards the princesses, pointing a hoof down the hall, then he once more cast his disbelieving gaze in the direction Luna and the mages went. “Uhh… What was that all about?”

He trotted back into the throne room, the officers outside returning to attention after catching the breath caught in their throats and shutting the door behind him. Twilight and Cadance consoled Celestia as she cried.

“Excuse me? What was that!? What was that with the-- and the-- with the-- what WAS that!?” Rags babbled.

Twilight looked to Rags with something in her eyes that chilled his blood. “That,” she began, “was the evil mastermind.”

“Princess Luna!?” Rags shouted with incredulity. “Princess Luna is the one trying to kill me and take over the world!? Is that what you’re telling me!?”

‘No,” Twilight said quietly. “Not Luna… Nightmare Moon.”

Rags’ heart stopped. His eyes went wide, his spine tingled like mad, his jaw hung open, and his veins froze solid. “Like… for real?” he said shakily. He remembered that name. The one that had nearly destroyed the world... twice. He recalled when she came to town some years ago, terrorizing them all, taking the sun out of the sky. He recalled the darkness of that night… how familiar it seemed…

“Yes… Luna is under the control of the Nightmare. If she is not purified soon, it will return,” Twilight said somberly.

“But… wasn’t Nightmare Moon… you know, with the Elements?” Rags asked.

“It would have appeared to be so, though that wasn’t the case. Evidently, a shred of the Nightmare survived, and is growing within her once more. It hasn’t fully developed, hence why Nightmare Moon isn’t free… yet. Though she hasn’t returned completely,it influences her. It is also more powerful than ever before. It used Luna, unbeknownst to her, to all of us, to cast ancient and powerful spells. The methods used to counter them are long since lost. The Nightmare is very clever, it used Luna to launch a silent attack on us all.” Twilight’s horn began to emit a strange light, and a book materialized into existence from out of nowhere in front of her.

With her magical hold, she flipped vigorously through the pages. “I’ve tried everything, every method of binding, banishment, and exorcism known to ponykind, all to no avail. The entity has manifestly been attached to her for so long that it’s actually become a part of her. If even the Elements were unable to successfully remove it from her, then virtually nothing can,” Twilight explained.

“Wait wait wait,” Rags interrupted, looking to be out of breath. “Why?”

“Why what?” Twilight asked.

“Why… everything! Why has Nightmare Moon, or whoever or whatever she is at this point, done all of this? Why has she sent monsters to kill me? Why me!? Why am I the only one who isn’t under her spell!?” Rags said hysterically, articulating everything he said with frantic gestures.

Twilight sighed and rubbed her temples with her wing tips. “Well, let’s take it from the top, I suppose… Why she’s cast a spell over everyone that forces them asleep, and seemingly transports them somewhere else, I am unsure of. A means of defense? Of addling our progress in our efforts to destroy her? It’s not very clear. As for the monsters, it’s clear that she wants you out of the way. Her powerful magics would theoretically allow her to summon creatures from far away lands, planes parallel to our own such as Tartarus, and even alternate dimensions entirely.” Twilight closed her book and made it vanish, summoning a new one from thin air.

“That would also explain how the creatures disappear so suddenly. Their connection to this world is their master’s magic, and with the dawn, her magics weaken severely, thus rendering their effects null,” Twilight said without looking at the dishwasher, instead focusing intently on scanning the pages of her book.

“But wait, how does that make any sense?” Rags asked. “Why doesn’t she do her eternal night thing? If she’s powerful enough to summon monsters and put everyone into a coma and send them off to who-knows-where, why wouldn’t she just make sure the sun doesn’t come up so that the effects can be permanent?”

“That’s where you come in. You are the sole reason she hasn’t done just that. Whenever you’re present, the evil force at work feels… twisted up. It’s as if you scramble the signal, so to speak. You are a living, breathing wrench in her operations. Your existence is a hindrance to her plan,” Twilight said. “That must be why she wishes to eliminate you.”

“But that still doesn’t make any sense! She can still summon monsters and take everyone away at night, I’m not stopping crap!” Rags said with both frustration and worry.

“Yes, it does. The Nightmare uses Luna’s potent, yet subtle, dream magic. It allows for nigh undetectable control over someone’s sleep and subconscious, hence why nobody is none the wiser to what is going on. In addition, through combining that dream magic with Luna’s other formidable powers, I postulate that she is able to send ponies to an alternate plane while they sleep, almost like literally sending them to some sort of ‘Dreamland’. If even one single pony is not under the effects of the magic, it can throw the entire spell off. But the conscious pony, you, is still affected. Your subconscious is vulnerable to her manipulation.”

Shut up.

Rags almost jumped. It was him. It was the voice.

“Don’t you see what that means, Rags? Everything that’s happening, from the monsters to the sun still rising in the morning and preventing eternal night, is based on your subconscious. You affect everything that happens. Because you still feel it, because there is something inside you that hasn’t given in, the sun still comes up every morning. Because you ‘know’ it will. But you also ‘know’ that the night will come again, which is why it does. As long as you have fear, as long as you feel uncertainty inside your heart, the Nightmare will still have power over you. Your mental instability is due to the Nightmare influencing everything you do, everything you think about, everything you feel.”

Shut up, you whore.

“All of your fears, your worries, your doubts… the Nightmare is attached to them. It makes your nightmares literally come to life. That is why you are under attack, but why it hasn’t already won.”

I’ll gut you. I’ll eat your children.

Rags felt a massive headache coming on. Why was the voice so perturbed by Twilight? He could feel its anger. It almost made him want to harm the princess. Maybe… maybe… of course. It didn’t want him to hear. It didn’t want him to know.

The voice wasn’t just his own. It wasn’t just another personality inside of him given life by his growing insanity. It was all of his negativity, everything that kept him down, given sentience by the Nightmare. It wasn’t just a voice, it was a thing. The evil, the demonic presence was inside his head. He was right all along. He wasn’t simply crazy. His madness was created, given to him by an unholy leech that clung to his mind and fed off his anxieties.

I know what you’re thinking. You can’t get rid of me. I’m real. I’m staying. I’m staying.

Be quiet… I’ll deal with you later.

He inwardly seethed, rage towards that thing growing rapidly within. He would handle the matter, but later. Now was the time for answers.

“Alright… so this Nightmare shapes everything based on what I feel and shapes all of reality into my own personal living nightmare. Great. That still doesn’t explain why I’m the only one who can do this,” Rags said as he rubbed his head in pain and aggravation.

“That is a curious question. I’m not entirely sure why you seem to be the only one capable of resisting the sleep. That will require further study.” Twilight closed the second book and disposed of it magically. “The point is, you are the only one who can do anything to stop the Nightmare.”

These words hit Rags like a ton of bricks. He wanted to simply say “no” and go home, leaving the entire mess behind him. Rags was short on breath, holding a hoof up to his chest.

“Are you alright?” Cadance asked, turning away from Celestia for a moment, but never stopping her consolation efforts.

“Yes, yes… I’m fi--... I’m fin--... No, no I’m not.” He took a minute to collect himself. There goes the good mood I was in this morning. So much for that little spurt of happy, he thought to himself. Well… it was nice while it lasted. He sat up straight, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Ok… ok… I’m good… Not really, obviously, but just lay it on me anyway. What’s gonna happen here?”

In a flash, Twilight was gone, leaving Rags with a look of consternation. She reappeared off to his side, looking up at the stained glass window that depicted the rise of Nightmare Moon. “You will be granted full access to the royal armory as well as to any resources you deem necessary to assist you in the proceedings. For the duration of the crisis, you will remain here in your own personal suite in the castle.” She turned away from the window and affixed him with a pleading look. ‘Will you help us? Will you help the world?”

Rags momentarily wondered if it was bad etiquette to stare at a princess, but did so anyway. He stared for the longest time, eventually turning his gaze to the fancy rug beneath his hooves. This was a question that would require a bit of consideration.

He could hardly comprehend the circumstances, the suddenness and scale of it all. He’d gone from fighting off relatively small quantities of hungry beasts in a small house in a small village to waking up in the royal castle itself and being told that he and only he could fight a god-like demon and save the world. It was such a radical and sudden change that it left him at a loss for words. It was an odd hybrid of culture shock and escalated stakes. How does one respond to such a thing? How is one supposed to handle being told that only they can vanquish evil and save all that there is?

It wouldn’t be an easy fight. In fact, he questioned whether or not it was even a fight at all. Even with the infinite resources of Canterlot backing him up, he was almost certain such an endeavor would end with the Nightmare casually vaporizing him without any effort whatsoever. He was merely a dishwasher. He wasn’t a warrior. He wasn’t a mage, a mercenary, a soldier, or even a competent survivalist.

He’d only lasted so long because of pure dumb luck, and he wasn’t sure he even had enough of that to make this plan feasible. He could hardly survive a few tar-covered lunatics trying to tear his house down, how could he be expected to accomplish a task such as this? He thought heavily about it, approached the matter from every direction, always coming to the same conclusion.

He sighed in defeat. He was screwed.

There was simply no way for him to make it out alive. He couldn’t handle it, he was just too weak. He was too weak to take what life had dished out to him. He was always too weak… Though, what else was he supposed to do? Leave the world and everyone else to be consumed by an eternal evil? He knew he was weak, too weak to ever handle something so monumental, but the least he could do was give it a shot.

Besides, perhaps this meant something more. Perhaps this was his second chance, his time to shine. To prove that he could handle what life threw at him, to prove that he wasn’t so weak after all. And even though the odds were insurmountable, he now had the opportunity to strike at the heart of the matter, end the madness once and for all. If he could defeat the Nightmare, he could not only stop his torment, but do something that he’d never even thought about before: make a difference in the world. He was always just that one colt who cleaned things in that one diner. No one ever spoke of him in reverent whispers or looked to him with respect. He never did anything of importance whatsoever. Now he could do one of the most important things anyone had ever done. Or die brutally trying.

But at least he would have tried.

With great reluctance, Rags opened his mouth to respond. “I… I, uh…. I guess I can give it a whirl. Who knows? I might actually last longer than five seconds. You think shooting for six is too much of a stretch?”

Twilight smiled at Rags’ dark humor and his trepidatious conformation that he was willing to help. “Thank you, Rags. I realize that this must be a very intimidating mission.”

‘What, me? Intimidated? By a little old ancient demon of unfathomable power that I’m going to have to fight all alone at night on top of the hordes of monsters that will be trying to skin me alive? Why yes, yes I am.” Rags stood to his shivering hooves, looking more like a newborn calf than an adult.

“Actually, considering that you will be here in Canterlot, closer to the caster of the spell than before, it’s not far fetched to assume that the monsters will increase dramatically in strength and number,” Twilight added.

“Oh… well in that case you can take me out of the ‘Intimidated’ category and put me into the ‘For the love of all that is holy, mommy make it stop’ category,” Rags said, feeling lightheaded again.

“It’s good that you maintain a sense of humor, you’ll definitely need it.” Twilight paced back towards the throne where Cadance sat beside a somber and silent Celestia, who let her mane obscure her sorrowfully hung head.

“You will need training. My brother, Prince Shining Armor, will be your personal trainer.” Twilight gestured to the Prince, who nodded in confirmation at Rags. It seemed a sensible decision to the dishwasher. Though one would expect a prince to be a fragile ‘royal’ type, Shining Armor was anything but. Rags was pretty sure that the prince could bench press five full grown stallions at once with a body like his. Not to mention his military background and his admirable magical prowess. Under his guidance, Rags was bound to reach his full potential, going from a miserable out-of-shape dishwasher heading straight for death’s door to a miserable in-shape dishwasher heading straight for death’s door.

“And perhaps I can whip up a few potions, something to give you a little boost,” Twilight said, offering a genuine smile.

The dishwasher felt warmed by her kindness. “So…” Rags swallowed hard, preparing to get down to the gritty part. “How am I supposed to deal with Nightmare Moon, anyhow? In fact, why haven’t we used the Elements on her already? Is that also something that only I can do for some reason? Am I supposed to go in there by myself and just blast her or what?”

Twilight seemed shocked by the question. Her cheeks reddened and she stuttered out an answer in a very un-royal fashion. “Oh… I think I might have left out something important. We haven’t used the Elements on her, and we won’t be able to, because… we sort of… kind of… gave them up,” she said with a meek grin.

“...I’m sorry, what?” Rags gawked.

“So… yeah, we can’t, uhm, use them on her. Also… in order to stop Nightmare Moon, you’ll have to wait until she makes herself vulnerable… on… Nightmare Night… hehe.” Princess Twilight was obviously aware of how he’d react to this information.

Rags nodded, mouth pursing in thought. Nightmare Night… was six months away. He would have to wait through six months of neverending assault from even more powerful monsters than before to put an end to things. And around that time of year, the nights would become longer as well. Yep… I think I just crapped myself. Wait… ok, not yet. But I’m definitely, definitely close.

“Ok, so, without the Elements of Harmony, which we did what with?” Rags asked Twilight.

“We gave them to a magical tree,” she replied with a blush, a sort of acknowledgement of how that sounded.

“Right… so, with the Elements… stuck in a tree somewhere… how am I going to handle the Nightmare? Am I supposed to drown it in tears of fear? Because I’ve got plenty of those,” Rags said dryly.

Twilight cleared her throat and answered, “There is another artifact aside from the Elements that can harm the Nightmare.”

Rags’ expression brightened upon hearing this. “Awesome! So where is it?”

“It’s charging,” Twilight replied.

“...Charging?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. It requires a substantial amount of sunlight to power the artifact. It is currently in a specialized chamber accumulating the proper amount of energy,” Twilight explained.

“So… when do I get to use it?” Rags asked in a pleading tone.

“Uhm… several months from now,” Twilight said shamefully.

“Marvelous. Does everything take several months to do in Canterlot? Or only when a pushover of a dishwasher is in peril and needs it right now?” Rags grumbled sarcastically.

“I should also specify why you will only be able to fight the Nightmare on Nightmare Night. As of right now, the Nightmare resides inside of Luna, attached to her soul, influencing her actions and corrupting her mind. It cannot directly act on its own. But on Nightmare Night, the anniversary of Luna’s banishment,” Twilight cast an apologetic glance to Celestia for bringing the memory up, “it will finally gather enough strength to take full control of the princess, and will no longer be hindered by your presence. It will have the power necessary to force an eternal night regardless of the influence you have.”

“Huh… if I may be so bold, Your Majesty, but aren’t we trying to avoid letting the Nightmare become that powerful?” Rags asked as he silently questioned Twilight’s sanity.

She turned to him and explained further, “Yes and no. True, on that night she will have enough power to take over, and without the Elements or even anyone awake to oppose her, she will win. But, while she will be at her most powerful, she will also be at her most vulnerable. From my last encounter with her, I noticed that any harm that came to Nightmare Moon was not inflicted on Luna as well. It became a separate entity, using Luna’s body as a conduit to channel its true form. Currently, it and Luna are one and the same, but on that night, they will part enough for damage to be done to one, but not both.”

Rags scratched his chin in contemplation. “Ohhhh… so the only time I’ll be able to even hurt the thing is also the time when it can turn me into ash just by blinking. I get it now.”

Celestia stirred from her abysmal state, sitting up straight and regaining her composure by taking deep breaths. She looked at Rags with a gentle expression. “Fear not, my little one. You are not alone, despite what might occur at night. We will all be here for you and help if we can. I beg of you… please save my sister. If you can’t, then…” She began welling up with tears again. A choked sob escaped her as Cadance was quick to comfort her once more.

Rags was beginning to get a grasp on how much everyone else was affected by this. It would seem he wasn’t the only one with his sanity on the line.

Celestia stifled her tears long enough to achieve equanimity again. “I offer my deepest and most sincere apologies to you. I can only imagine what my… sister…” She took a moment to breath, “has done to your mind over the past several months. I’m sorry that you were without aid for so long. I’m… so sorry for everything.”

Rags cocked his head in a confused expression. “What do you mean by ‘everything’?”

“For the horrors to come. We have no way of preventing your continued exposure to the Nightmare’s demonic energies. You will have to endure for quite some time. In truth, I am unsure of how to proceed… or if it is even right of me to ask this of you. I feel simply wretched sending you to fight alone. I loathe the idea of being unable to fight for my subjects,” Celestia said.

A look of anger overtook her face. “I loathe the idea of being unable to fight that thing that has taken my sister away from me once more!” Venom dripped from her voice as she continued. “For centuries that demon has tormented my sister! It has poisoned her mind and tainted her soul! It has isolated her, drowned her in loneliness and sorrow!” Celestia hissed as she trembled with fury. She spared a minute to breath and calm herself before resuming in a tone with much less vitriol. “Now it has come again to drag her away from me once more… If it is not stopped… we may be forced to take… drastic measures. I may lose her forever this time.” A fresh wave of tears washed over her cheeks as she let the painful words pass her lips.

Rags could see why she was so torn up now. He reflected on the situation for a moment, considering the circumstances. “Well… I don’t know, Your Highness, what else would we do? As hard as it is for me to accept, I’m apparently the only one who can do anything here. I can’t just let this Nightmare thing take over the world and take Princess Luna away. I mean, I don’t honestly think I’ll be of any use, but I’ve got to try, I guess.”

Celestia looked at him with a soft expression and smiled, warmed by his wary consent.

“Then it’s settled,” Twilight stated confidently. “We will assist you however possible in your endeavors. Together, we will defeat Nightmare Moon, save Luna, and stop eternal darkness from befalling the land!”

Rags’ mouth went dry. “Is that all? Sounds easy enough…” He felt suddenly and inexplicably woozy. “If you don’t mind, I’m just gonna take a little--” He fainted and collapsed on the floor.

All present in the throne room stared for a bit, before Twilight awkwardly broke the silence. “Uhm… does somebody want to help him up?”