1st day of Moon's Rising
454 Years after the Defeat of Discord by the Sisters

Pallas looked around, her blindfold finally removed. The room felt like a cavern, all heavy stone and darkness, everything hewn out of rock, the carvings and scale implying centuries of work. Black and violet screens of dyed paper helped divide the room up, and everything had the strong scent of peppery incense.

“The Dragoons lost several members in the war,” Luna said, as she led Pallas down a row edged in by the painted screens towards a raised altar of stone at one end of the huge room. It was the most permanent structure apparent in the cavern, with stone monoliths arranged around a platform that hosted the altar. “There have never been more than thirty at a time, one for each day of the lunar cycle, and at times there have been only a few to carry on the tradition.”

Luna gestured to the statues at either side of the altar with an armored hoof. Pallas had never seen her wearing the armor she wore now, which was made of oddly-colored metal. She wasn't sure if the indigo tone was natural to the alloy or a glaze layered on it. “The first Dragoons served me in the time just after Discord's reign. Even with him removed from the seat of power, the world was wild and untamed.”

“I heard about that,” Pallas said. “You and Princess Celestia went around the world trying to find other immortals, right?”

“I'm surprised.” Luna stopped and turned to look at Pallas. “Those stories aren't written in any tomes of history. Where did you hear this tale? My sister certainly isn't comfortable enough around you to speak of it.”

Pallas shrugged. “There was this kirin named Ryujin. He saved Bianca's life after those assassins attacked. He told us the story while he was treating us, or at least part of it. He said that the griffon Emperor is immortal, and commands the winds.”

“Accurate,” Luna nodded. “Wind, Earth, Fire, and Water. They are four of the most important pillars of the world. Discord had completely destroyed the old ways, and the world was no longer able to take care of itself. Before he ruined the world, the weather and seasons took care of themselves. After his defeat, they just stopped working, and neither my sister nor I had the magic to shepherd them.”

“So you made the Emperor immortal?” Pallas blinked.

“Not quite,” Luna said, smiling slightly. “Becoming an immortal is more about the journey than the destination. One cannot simply be made immortal as if it were as easy a feat as raising the sun or moon. Harmony guides the world, Pallas Athene, and we knew it would work to solve the problem. What your friend got wrong was that we didn't make anyone immortal. They were always going to fulfill that destiny. We journeyed not to raise anyone to our status, but to ensure that we were making friends among the new immortals, rather than enemies.”

“That sure worked out well,” Pallas snorted.

“For a long time, Zephyranthes was one of my dearest friends,” Luna sighed. “But as immortals, we eventually become all things to each other. Friends, enemies, lovers, nemeses, forgotten, and discovered again. Eventually we will be allies again, and the cycle will continue as it always has. At least he is simple to deal with. I dread the day when I have to host tea for the Queen Mother Resplendent in White Flame and Crimson Scales.”

“Who?” Pallas tilted her head.

“The immortal of Fire. I suppose you haven't heard that part of the tale yet. Ask your friend about it. I would be curious to hear the perspective of a kirin on the Queen Mother's beginnings.” Luna laughed. “She was amusing, at least, though I think only I appreciated her humor.” Luna turned back to the raised platform and stepped up, motioning for Pallas to follow. “But enough. It is almost time for the ritual.”

“What do I have to do?” Pallas asked.

“Just follow my instructions, as you always have,” Luna said. She took a deep breath. “DRAGOONS! ASSEMBLE!” she yelled ,in a voice that nearly knocked Pallas off of her feet with the force of the words.

They had obviously been waiting for her. Shadows detached from the walls, others slunk out of where they'd been hiding in the maze of paper walls, and one even dropped straight down from the distant ceiling to land on top of one of the monoliths that ringed the altar area. The rest took their places on and around the ring of stone. Pallas looked over them all. No two had quite the same armor or weapons. Most were thestrals, but she spotted a few unicorns, earth ponies, and even a pegasus in the mix. Hungry Ghost raised the helm of his visor as he looked down to Pallas, showing the ghost of a smile.

“Tonight, a new Dragoon has come to take on the old oaths,” Luna said. She stomped a hoof, and a sparkling mist rose up around her, tightening into a whirlwind that obscured her from view. Pallas shielded her eyes as dust kicked up from the floor and a piercing light flashed from within. The torches around the altar went out, plunging the room into darkness.

Reptilian eyes appeared, glowing in the night. Pallas froze as she stared into those eyes, the only thing she could make out in the sudden gloom.

“Behold, Pallas Athene. This is my true form as the avatar of death and dreaming in this world.” The flames shot up from the torches, this time in a ghostly blue tone. Pallas' eyes went wide. Luna's form, barely larger than Pallas herself and more generously curved towards beauty rather than power, had been replaced by something greater. She stood at least as tall as Celestia, her navy coat replaced with an ebon black, her eyes that of a dragon and shining with teal light. The armor Luna had worn had stretched to accommodate the scale of her new body, which radiated strength and power. Her mane and tail swirled around her in a nebulous cloud that looked like a slice of the night sky.

Pallas swallowed a question about why Luna didn't look like that all the time, partly because she wasn't stupid enough not to know it was a bad time to ask questions and partly because her unspoken question was answered a moment later when Luna smiled, revealing fangs.

Luna's mane seemed to move like a limb of its own, sweeping over the altar and hiding it from view for a moment. When it retreated, a chalice of dusty-looking silvery metal and a blade of obsidian were left behind.

“Step forward,” Luna said. Pallas unhesitatingly came closer, watching as Luna took up the blade with her magic and cut herself, opening a shallow cut along her fetlock where the armor didn't cover her flesh. Dark blood ran from the wound, and Luna caught it in the chalice. She placed both back into the altar. “Cut yourself as I have, and mix your blood with mine.”

Pallas gripped the blade with her teeth. Her flesh was covered in scars. What did one more matter? She sliced along her left foreleg, careful not to cut too deeply. The blade was so sharp it was almost painless, almost tickling rather than hurting at all. She held her leg above the chalice and let it drip. Her own blood seemed brighter than Luna's, as if the Princess' blood had been mixed with ink.

“Excellent,” Luna said. Pallas stepped back, having apparently bled enough into the chalice. “Now, repeat after me as I recite the words of the Dragoon's Oath.”

Luna stood up straight, looking out over the assembled Dragoons. “I shall never give up even in the face of death. There is no surrender.” Her voice was strong, the words coming easily to her. Pallas repeated after her, keeping her tone level.

“I shall never give succor to those who oppose me. There is no mercy.” Again, Pallas repeated the oath.

“I shall never bend knee to those who demand it. There are no masters.” Pallas almost stumbled over that. Wasn't she still going to be serving Luna?

“I shall never allow terror to grip my heart. There is no fear.” That would be the most difficult to follow. Or at least it would be for most ponies. The only time Pallas would take flight during a battle would be to get an altitude advantage before resuming the attack.

“No surrender, no mercy, no masters, no fear. Thus I swear the ancient pact of the Lunar Dragoons.” Luna closed her eyes for a moment on finishing the oath. Pallas heard echoes around the cavern as she repeated the last verse, and realized that the other Dragoons were saying them as well, reaffirming their vows quietly, their voices joining to a background murmur.

Luna picked up the chalice with her ethereal mane, lifting it above her head. Silvery light gathered around it, as if moonlight was shining right through the stone above. It bathed in the spotlight for a few moments before the light faded, and Luna lowered the cup. She put it to her lips and sipped from it for a moment.

“With this, we taste the blood we share.” She gave the cup to Pallas. “Drink.”

Pallas carefully took the chalice with a hoof, looking down at the blood in it. There was an odd oily quality to it, a sheen across the surface of the mixed swirl of crimson.

She tossed it back and drank a long sip of it before lowering the silver chalice. She was used to tasting her own blood, with cuts in and around her mouth inevitable with the way she fought. It wasn't something she found particularly pleasant, but there was something different this time. There was an odd tingle to it.

“With this, you are bound to the oaths you swear.” Luna took the cup back, a tendril of her mane dipping into the liquid. The paint-soaked hair floated to Pallas, marking her forehead with a simple circle as if it were a paintbrush.

There was a feeling like a tether being snapped that left Pallas suddenly cold and hot at the same time, and her flank burned like she was being branded with hot irons. Sweat dripped from her brow and a yawning pit of emptiness seemed to open inside her, as if something had been torn from her.

“Your old life has ended,” Luna said. “And a new one begins. You are no longer bound by the destiny once marked for you.”

Pallas felt the tingle spread from her mouth across her skin, her coat crawling. The awful burning feeling faded, replaced with a throbbing numbness. She almost collapsed in relief. If it had gone on much longer, she would have ended up passing out.

“I bring you into this world as a new being, marked within and without by death. I name you Black Wind and bid you rise and bear your new name proudly.”

Pallas, or rather Black Wind, took a deep breath. The tingling turned into a warmth through her body that left her feeling sated and happy. She heard the stomping of hooves in approval from all around her. The ceremony had apparently ended, and she had managed not to screw anything up.

“You have my blessing now,” Luna said. “May it grant you success in battle and ward off an unworthy death. Silver Tongue is busy enchanting your new armor, so it will be a few days before you can begin getting used to it.” She stepped around the altar. She motioned for Black Wind to follow her.

Black Wind nodded. “So what do I do until then, Luna? Try and get used to ponies using a new name for me?”

“Something I had to get used to as well. Just as you have taken a new name, so did I long ago. When in private, you may use my true name - Nightmare Moon.”

“Right, Lu- I mean, Nightmare Moon.” She followed Nightmare Moon towards the far end of the cavern. The Dragoons started to disperse, and she caught salutes, smiles of approval, and nods of acknowledgement from them as she followed the dark alicorn.

“I'd prefer if you didn't make a habit out of it, yet at least. My sister doesn't know much about the Dragoons yet, and I intend to keep it from her for as long as I can. She has her own secret group in the Solar Circle, though...” Nightmare Moon snorted. “I doubt they're as effective as the Dragoons.”

“If they're anything like the rest of the Solar Guard, they've probably never seen combat,” Black Wind said.

“Perhaps. But they're likely extensively trained. I would not underestimate them. They are worthy of respect, from what little information I have gathered. They might become powerful allies in the future.” Nightmare Moon pushed aside a curtain, revealing a hidden nest of velvet pillows.

“Pallas!” Chirped a voice from above. Black Wind blinked and looked up into excited red eyes watching from the shadows at the apex of the enclosed nest of blankets and pillows.. Bianca dropped down from above, landing carefully to keep weight from her wounded shoulder. “So? How does it feel?”

“What are you doing here?” Black Wind blinked.

“She is my student,” Nightmare Moon said. “Many of my secrets are open to her. This, in particular, was something that she deserved to know.”

“Your cutie mark is different!” Bianca said, circling Pallas and nosing at her flank. Pallas twisted to look. She'd had an owl on her flank before, representing her skill as a predator and night vision. Now, though, it had darkened almost to black, outlined in stars as if it had changed to a constellation.

“A cutie mark is a symbol of destiny,” Nightmare Moon said. “In accepting my boon, your destiny changed and became intertwined with mine.”

“Huh...” Pallas muttered, thinking and looking at it.

“It will be best for you to avoid public exposure until the current situation is resolved,” Nightmare Moon said. Her mane reached back to the thick curtains and pulled them tightly closed. “But I'm sure until then, we can find a way to pass the time.”

“What do you-” Black Wind started, until the prehensile man gripped her neck and pulled her into Nightmare Moon's embrace, the Princess' lips meeting her own in an aggressive kiss, still tasting of the blood they had both drunk. Black Wind felt her cheeks burn hot, hoping her dark coat hid the blush. “Oh.”

“You are mine, Black Wind.” Nightmare Moon said, as she pulled away. “Never forget that.” She shoved, and Black Wind fell back into the pillows. The dark Princess laid next to her, Bianca jumping onto her to straddle her waist.

“I guess you have some ideas on how to pass the time?” Black Wind gasped, looking up at Bianca.

“A few,” Nightmare Moon smirked. “I'm sure you'll enjoy it.”