I look up at the wonder filled sky. Years and years of stargazing, and my heart still stirs at the sight. I follow the imaginary lines, tracing the figures and shapes that ponies have made for them through the years. I believe I have found one of my greatest joys in this new world.

To find out they care enough about the stars that they name them, that they give them stories and purpose. It was the most amazing discovery. I felt born anew when I read that. I could not control myself. I ran outside, eager to find somepony out at this late hour. For some reason, I believed I would have found scores.

There were only the guards. They were outside, awake, because that was their duty. I needed to find somepony else, anypony. I flew to the gardens and I managed to find a single gardener still awake during my night.

He bowed nervously when he saw me. They were all afraid of me, but they love my night so much now, I thought to myself.

In my haste I did not even attempt to be gentle or kind as my sister has asked of me. I needed to know, so I asked him, which was his favourite constellation.

He looked at me blankly. I thought it was the sudden question that threw him off. I was so wrong.

“The Big Dipper, I guess, Princess,” he says in hesitance. I do not care how he phrases it. I do not care for the beads of sweat on his brow. I was so glad I could almost start dancing where I stood. There was change, I thought. There is hope.

“Why dost thou choose that one?” I ask. I was so giddy. I wanted him to tell me why he liked it, I needed his approval, I wanted to hear him say that the stars were beautiful.

I wanted to hear him say that he was thankful for my centuries of work and struggles; that ponies finally would give me my due for braving the terrors in their stead.

“It’s the only one I know actually,” he says. “I never really cared to learn any of them.”

I froze. He was trying to stutter apologies I think. In retrospect, I can remember some blubbering noises coming from his direction, but he must have fled soon for I did not see him when I looked again.

My mind was taken over by a single word. “Lies”. My night was not as loved as the day was. Celestia lied to my face. Where were the ponies that supposedly gazed at the night sky in droves? The lovers of comets? The reverie of the night? I spread my wings and flew, unseen. Nopony could ever tell me apart from my sky, not during my hours.

This new city, this Canterlot, has so many ponies living in it. It is truly a marvel. I spent an hour flying overhead, looking for the ponies that I was assured were there.

I found about two dozen. More than half of them were drunks that were returning home or heading for some gutter. Of the rest, some of them glanced up a few times. Then they kept walking. There was reverie, dancing, and music, but it was all done inside closed halls. Celestia could raise the sun right now and it would make no difference to them.

I returned to my room. I was fighting for control of my emotions. Of my voice. I wanted to scream. I wanted to let loose and tear everything apart, to crash these chambers, to collapse this tower, to find my sister and make her pay for the false hope she planted in me.

My anger was quick to be replaced by terror when I thought of her reaction. I returned to the balcony to look up to the moon. I loved it. I truly did. But I was not going back there. Not again. Not for a moment. I could not chance any confrontation with Celestia. I would have to become a shadow of myself. Follow behind her, take my cues from her, and always agree with her. To do otherwise would be madness.

I had but a shade of my old power. The weapon spared me this time, but it took so much from me. I used to be able to beat Celestia with my hoof tied behind my back. Now? I would barely last scant seconds against her full power. Even so, I prefer this than the alternative. But it leaves me so vulnerable against her.

I knew that Celestia loved me, but she would not risk Nightmare Moon again. If she found out… would she even hesitate? Maybe. But she would do it anyway, for the sake of her little ponies, for justice, for the false ideas she treasured. She would send for those six and they would come, the Elements riding on them.

I was hyperventilating. My throat was choking me and my vision was becoming blurry with tears. No, no, no. Not again, never again. That wasn’t what I wanted. It was supposed to be simple, all so simple.

Buck your mercy, Celestia. Buck it to Tartarus.

What was I left with? An eternity of giving up all I was, so I could live in constant fear? One day Celestia would ask the right questions. I would be returned to that hell, but this time there would be no hope of escape to sustain me. I would be trapped forever, for in her kindness she believed it was better than killing her sister. And I would spend eternity banished to the heart of my charge. Undying and alone.

I could not defend myself. I could not run from her. I could not hide. The lie would break someday. Or I would.

It all happened for a reason after all. This had not changed. I was still the reviled one. Even worse than I used to be. All I ever did for them was no longer set aside in the face of their fear. No, worse, it was not even remembered.

I would break again. I knew it. It was inevitable. My plan to be the loyal little sister would not hold.

I wiped my eyes furiously. I could not stop crying. I did not know, was it because I was so afraid or because I mourned for my predetermined fate?

The relentless Steward of the Night was now nothing more than a sad, weak mare, lying in a puddle of her snot and tears.

I had to do something. I was not getting banished again, never again. But I had no way to stop this. It was coming. Celestia would overpower me, her burning eyes would give me one last look of disgust and judgement, and then her precious bearers would send me screaming to…

What right did she have to do this? I could feel my rage returning back to me. What did she know? Always so safe under her warm sun. She did not know what lived in the shadows and the dark. I did not know either, but I was the one who dared them so I could make them safe. I was the one who bled. I was the one who spent days hidden in a deep hole time after time, waiting for my wounds to heal so I could return back to my thankless task. I bled, hurt, starved, and suffered, night after night, century after century.

She wanted me to rectify my manners. Be gentle and kind. Where was the gentleness when I needed somepony to drag me out of the deep caves I delved? Where was the kindness when I prayed for a drop of water as I pulled myself inch by precious inch back to the world of the living? Where was laughter, generosity, loyalty, kindness, honesty, and the vaunted magic of friendship when I cried myself to sleep every time I ripped the remains of a foal out of a monster’s gut?

Where was a simple word of appreciation and compassion for the role that was thrust upon me?

I tried to be kind, Celestia. You didn’t see it, but I was. I was being kind to you. You would never have to know the truth.

But your kindness was merciless.

I have no options left. There are only two paths left to choose. Either I delay my fate for as long as I can or I escape it forever.

I have made my choice. I will not be kind.

I do not need to leave my chambers. The materials of this world are strong, even if made for another purpose. Silk sheets are quickly remade. It is so much easier to use cloth than vines and grass.

I need a clean space for this. The bedroom itself will do. A place to sleep. It is fitting.

I wonder if I should leave a message. A note or a letter. I could say everything I was never able to say. I could make all my grievances known. Let my sister and the world know how they failed me. Lay the blame at their hooves with no way for them to counter my accusations. It would be cathartic to write something like that.

I decide not to. Let them wonder, if they care to do so. Besides, to put such effort into something that only Celestia would show interest for… the thought brought new pangs of pain.

I look at my release. My way out. It needs to be a little higher. I fix that quickly. I test my weight on it. It holds. It won’t be painless and I will have to stop myself from fighting it. I can do it. I have to. It’s not like I have any other choice.

I sit and wait. I will not leave yet. It is still nighttime. My time. I will wait until the time comes to lower my moon. It will drain everything I have but I won’t need magic for what comes next. Poor Celestia. She will think that I have taken my duties back. That her sister has returned to her fully.

Good. Let her feel as I felt. Have the fleeting hope ripped away from her.

These will be my last hours. I do not spend them thinking any more of those petty thoughts. I focus my being on what is truly important. I consciously take each and every breath, entranced in the way oxygen fills my lungs and renews me. I listen to my heartbeat, going strong as it always had. Knowing it was their last beats was making them a fascinating music to my ears. I inhale the scents of the night. I always thought you could smell the night. I wonder if anypony else ever felt the same. I doubt it. I close my eyes briefly. I want to feel the gentle breeze that flows over the fine hairs of my coat as much as possible.

It is such a marvel to be alive, to breathe. To survive. It was the greatest lesson I ever learned on my own. Survival was paramount. Fight for every breath and struggle for the next beat of your heart. It was what drove me for so long. To make sure that as few ponies as possible would have to learn the lesson to the degree I did.

I was going to betray that lesson voluntarily. But subconsciously, ah, that was another matter entirely. That’s why I stood completely still when I felt the blade kiss my neck instead of welcoming it.

Something soft and hard at the same time had wrapped itself around my horn. I felt the magic die on it’s tip. That route of escape was closed to me.

It was becoming a trend.

I did not move. Whoever had me at his or her mercy was in no rush to give the killing blow, despite how close to it they were. I stood still, experience telling me to wait for an opening.

I did not hear anypony approaching me. I felt no magic nearing me. How did my assassin get so close to me?

I do not move my head, but I am able to get a glimpse of him. A fleshy appendage is holding the dagger’s hilt. It looks so much like a minotaur’s hand but it’s fingers look so much more slender. Strong, but slender. I do not see the muscles that operate them, but I am certain of it. They are gruff and pitted with the small scars that only a harsh life can give.

It has been over a minute. How much longer is this unknown gonna bathe in the anticipation of a kill? Why does he not gloat? He is going to do the impossible and kill an Alicorn. Where is the fevered bravado?

He finally talks. The voice fascinates me. It’s accent is broken in a strange way, like he has trouble making the sounds, but trudges on through experience and effort alone.

“Is this what I think it is?” he asks. I know what he means. He has seen my escape route.

“Aye, it is.” I tell him. “I have no fear of you, see? My fate was already sealed before you came in. It is a hollow victory you gain here.”

“Huh,” he says and goes silent again. I wait him out. I wasn’t planning on doing anything anyway. One way or another, this ends tonight.

It is a few minutes before he talks again. His blade has not wavered in the slightest. He has the patience you would expect from a hunter. The stillness.

“Twilight Sparkle,” he says.

I stay silent. He did not wait for an answer anyway.

“She is my little one. She faced you. And you would have killed her.”

“Mayhaps,” I answer. In truth, I do not know. So many of my actions that night are still a mess in my mind. I wasn’t thinking at the time, I knew. I was acting on imagined scenarios. I never even realized I was actually free until I saw the Elements of Harmony appear before me. The shock could have killed me, to understand you are free and not enjoy it until you see the door closing on your face again.

Hope is so fickle and cruel.

The blade removes itself. “Turn around,” he commands. I oblige. I want to see him anyway.

He is like nothing I have ever seen. He is very large and his scars are ferocious. I know, just by the look in his eyes, that he too has learned the lesson of survival. As well as I know it myself. Perhaps even better.

We both understand each other in that moment. We know we share one common trait. The pain of lonely survival. I never knew somepony who truly knew what it was like to live my kind of life.

I am glad he is here. For the first time in a very long time I no longer feel alone.

He keeps staring at me. I know he shares some of my thoughts. But he is not here to give up. He has something to fight for, so he keeps on guard. To challenge him would be to die like a foal at this time. His stare moves from me to my release and back again.

I do not know why he delays. I know what he came here to do. He is here to protect his little pony. Like I did. Like my sister does.

He lifts the blade up. I raise my head, revealing my throat. A quick end. This will be so much better.

His long legs make their way around me. He heads for the makeshift rope and uses the blade to cut it down. I am unable to do anything but watch in shock.

He takes a seat on my bed. He still holds the rope I made and uses the blade to cut it into smaller and smaller pieces. What is this person doing? What is he playing at?

His small eyes lock into mine. There is a cold fury in them. I betrayed the lesson and he knows it. But I know something else too.

He tried to betray it too. I realize who he is now. Celestia told me about him. Warned me against meeting him.

The alien being standing in my room made his way into my chambers and caught me by surprise. He could’ve kill me and I would’ve never known. I knew now why I did not sense magic, but how did he keep me from hearing his approach?

I look at the end of his legs. Of course. He did not have hooves and he had his fleshy feet bare. Such a simple advantage that allowed him to best one of the former most powerful beings of this world.

There is no more silk to cut in pieces. I am his sole attention now. I wonder, what does he see? Does he see a Princess, like Celestia? A survivor that gave up? A weak mare that seeks the coward’s way out?

“Why don’t you have a seat next to me? I think we should talk for a while. I just had a very strange notion I would like to discuss with you.” He smiles as he says that. Does he fool anypony else or am I the only one to see through it? This alien has no joy left in him. I would know.

“My name is Raegdan. Let’s talk, Princess Luna.”

I move to sit next to him. What is there to lose?

“By the way,” he says, “I’m a big fan of your night. My kind always loved the stars. I try to learn your constellations, but there are so many of them. My favorite stars are those three in line over your northern star. They look like Orion’s Belt. They remind me of home.”

The night passes and dawn comes. I do not lower the moon. My sister takes the duty once more. Unlike what he requested, we do not talk. We both stay silent, reveling in the presence of the other. What is there to talk about? The essence is all around us.

To survive means to kill yourself again and again. In a battle against the greatest of monsters it is the true monster that will survive. In the fight against the world it is the truly cruel who will take the path that leads them to another dawn. We stay close and mourn in silence for our choices to keep living until exhaustion takes both potential victim and assassin.

Oh hope, you cruel thing. You fickle thing. Why are you back?

Author's Notes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79wkxIKUpZQ