The look of utter boredom upon Sunset Shimmer’s face couldn’t have been more glaringly obvious if the sun itself were giving the entire earth the same half-lidded glower. It was the face of one sick with the daily tedium of their life, in a flavor only someone as privileged as the fiery-maned unicorn could muster. There was many a noble housemare in Canterlot who wore a similar mask upon their muzzle day in and day out, but theirs and Sunset’s would never be quite alike.

It was yet another day of lounging in the steward’s seat and enduring the torturous monotony of court for the mare in question. In the early days of her attendance she’d relished the time spent in the grand hall; once upon a time the insatiable nobles looked upon her with wonder, envy, and at times barely concealed anger. ‘She has the prestige of sitting next to Princess Celestia herself!’ ‘What has she done to earn this honor?’ ‘How can a street urchin look so immaculate and shine almost as brightly as the regent to her left?’

The unicorn adored the attention; she had risen from the alleys of Canterlot above all of the snot-nosed foals in frilly clothing and smelly perfume, to where she had always belonged. But her vogue faded eventually, and they began to ignore Sunset’s presence unless she were called on to deal with an issue brought to the throne -- which didn’t happen very often at all. Even her informants became another piece of the background as time passed, as they were supposed to, but they had brought eyes to Sunset back then as well as anything important gleaned from her field agents.

The worst of it all had been when the purple filly first came into the life of the castle. It had taken no time at all for Twilight Sparkle to gain all the adoration of the staff and the ire of the noble houses that Sunset had once been showered with. And Twilight didn’t even want anything to do with the stuffed-shirt ponies that marched in and out of the doorway morning to mid-afternoon! She had simply cowered under Celestia’s wing like a foal the first few times. On her intermittent returns to the court she still hovered at the princess’s side, and continued drawing gazes to her.

Sunset came to understand that Twilight was terrified of the stares they gave her, only braving the court when she felt strong-willed enough, like today (or needed Celestia’s illusory magic to hide her). Her burning hatred for the unicorn eight years her junior had been quelled once Celestia “coerced” the two of them to interact regularly. There was no declining her suggestion of that unless one wanted the dreaded look of maternal admonishment; that look thoroughly cowed Sunset’s pride every time it was used. And so the passive disdain for the Canterlot upper-crust bloomed into an infernal loathing. A hatred for these mere insects that dared to strike fear into Twilight’s heart. It wasn’t at all that Twilight stirred a part of her soul that Sunset had locked away years ago, nope. She was simply exercising her good samaritan muscle for a fellow student. Celestia knows she needed to give it a good workout, lest it shrivel up and fade away…

But even that had blended into and become a part of the doldrums of attending court one day, and Sunset was left with the malaise of the same daily parade of clowns calling themselves elite in a great room that always stunk of the Canterlot zeitgeist, complaining about their minor problems.

Mercifully Celestia called an end to the snooze fest for the day, and she rose in her glory with a smile on her face as if she hadn’t sat bored and dully irritated out of her mind for several hours (and Sunset knew that she had). The two unicorns followed suit, giving out their own formal farewells for the day -- one in near monotone, the other in a nervous rush -- and exited the audience chamber into the depths of the palace.

“Back to the tower with ya then, Twilight?” Sunset regarded her fellow pony with concern so well-hidden that anyone else may have mistaken it for an attempt at good-natured ribbing.

The violet filly had her eyes downcast, clearly recovering from what was for her an ordeal like no other. “...yeah.”

“I am so very proud of you today, my student. You sat tall and strong the whole way through court today!” Celestia did her absolute best to reinforce the quiet unicorn at every acceptable turn. Indeed, this was progress for the neurotic pony beside her to have weathered an onslaught of looks and whispers for so long a time period. “Perhaps you should reward yourself with some fresh air? It’s not at all healthy to stay cooped up in your chambers all the time.”

“I guess so.”

Celestia wouldn’t dare let the muted reply faze her. “I know the sun makes you uncomfortable, so why don’t you take a parasol to shade yourself? You’d be very surprised what an atmosphere like today’s can do for your studying.”

“At the least, you can’t let other ponies scare you into being a shut-in all your life, Twi,” Sunset chimed in, “Compared to what we just had to suffer, everypony outside is nothing! Most of them won’t even give you a second glance if you’re minding your own business.”

Twilight finally raised her head, a contemplative look on her muzzle. “It has been a while since I went out last.”

Inwardly, Celestia sighed. She hasn’t blocked herself off from Sunset, at least. I suppose that’s all I can ask for right now. She watched the little unicorn walk toward her tower anyway, with the spoken goal of gathering some things to properly enjoy the outside. The princess surreptitiously wrote a note to Twilight’s assistant to ensure she didn’t just stay indoors again.

She and Sunset continued on through the halls and stairwells of Canterlot Castle with occasional small-talk peppering the relative silence. Eventually they came to a familiar unmarked door in the far reaches of the west wing. Unguarded, because no other ponies would ever suspect what looked, for all intents and purposes, to be a broom closet.

Celestia put her horn to it, and the illusion fell away to reveal a much more elaborately decorated doorway, gilded with gold and platinum. Atop its threshold was an emblem, the Equestrian coat of arms, with a singular deviation: a crescent moon accompanying Celestia’s cutie mark.

This was the Sanctum that the two mares entered. It had been built nearly a thousand years ago at the heart of Fort Canterlot when it was chosen as the new seat of Equestria. A chamber that seemed to defy the laws of physics, being a massive dome inside a building that didn’t seem to exist from the outside. In reality it was a special pocket in existence Celestia constructed herself, for where the most critical of information to the country’s continued prosperity could be shared in confidence.

“And why couldn’t we just teleport to the door like usual?” Sunset looked to her mentor with a brow raised.

“We can’t just be randomly disappearing for places nopony can find all the time, Sunset,” Celestia responded, a coy smile on her lips. “With how often this room sees use lately, it might start a riot if ponies keep seeing us pop out of existence.”

Sunset nodded in understanding. “If we act like things are normal, they won’t suspect a thing… Right.”

“Yes. The last thing we need right now is the poor things being worried.”

Celestia took her seat at the round and plain wooden table in the center of the room. Anypony could tell it was her seat, as it was the biggest. Sunset took hers by the alicorn’s side. The one with a lavender shield and the one with a crystal heart would remain unoccupied today; this was a meeting for only their ears. Though no words really needed to be said, for they both knew precisely why they were here, and the decision they would arrive at.

“I take from their absence you’re gonna disregard their objections, Celestia?”

The princess in question dropped her mask of serenity to reveal an anxious mare. “I understand fully why they would have a problem with all this. And I couldn’t agree with them more.”

“But you’re going along with the initial plan anyway.”

“Yes, Sunset.”

The unicorn sighed. “I can’t say I like the idea of being on the front line here. The both of us are going to be in grave peril if this is all ends up being true.”

“I know,” Celestia looked away from her most trusted advisor, staring at the table before them. “I wish we had some other recourse.”

“You’re sure you’re remembering their words right?”

“I’ve not forgotten a word. I’d even wrote it down eventually, just in case I did. You’ve seen those documents.”

Sunset snorted. Her hoof tapped at the table as she wrestled with the conundrum before them, trying to think of some way to worm out of it with the fewest losses, but that was the long and short of it; they had no way of knowing anything would even happen at all tomorrow night, but with how the pieces had all fallen, it was most likely that the worst would indeed come to pass. All they could do is prepare the best they were able.

She sighed, defeated by fate, and looked over to the empty chairs across the table “Those two aren’t ever going to let you and me hear the end of it either way, you know.”

Celestia gave a small, sad, but genuine smile. “I would be very disappointed if they had.”

A flicker of green flame snaked out of Celestia’s horn, transmogrifying into a letter. Her smile deepened. “And it would seem that we’ve already stepped off the edge into this quagmire.”

Sunset gave her own, more snide grin. “Well, at least one of us has wings to fly back up there.”

Twilight had known for quite some time that whenever Celestia called her “special”, she really meant “abnormal”, or on occasion, “dangerous”. Normal ponies didn’t have a magical shell that concealed their true form and fell apart when they were distraught. Or curved horns. Or eyes black as coal. And normal unicorns didn’t naturally harness dark magic, either.

All these things were true for Twilight Sparkle. There was no hiding her horn, unless she wanted to terrify everypony whenever she levitated anything. The outer image of a normal pony had a tendency to quite literally fracture whenever she used magic if her horn was also concealed. So they had to settle for leaving it in view; her hair hid the seam in the disguise that way, at least.

Anyone passing Twilight by in the park would see an otherwise unremarkable lavender mare with solid indigo for a neatly-trimmed mane -- there was natural streak of hot pink in it, but it was easier just to hide that along with its blood-red neighbor. She had enough unusualness on her head as it was. A stallion or the odd mare might have noticed how her eyes seem to almost glow in a captivating manner and remarked on her beauty. Frankly, Twilight didn’t want to be much of anything, least of all eye-catching. She was a freak. Probably something even worse, but she hadn’t discovered what and Celestia declined to tell her, so the unicorn settled for freak. She bled black smoke, the sun made her uncomfortable and she turned books into monsters by accident. There was nothing nice about her. And Twilight highly doubted that anypony would find her true self all that attractive.

She may not have known what breed of beast she was, but she was nothing if not determined to find out. So it was that Twilight Sparkle had delved into ancient literature, like the book she had with her on the grassy hillside. Gradually, she had strayed off-course from that initial goal -- that tended to happen when she read volume upon volume of information -- as this particular tome had next to nothing to do with ancient horrors and creatures of the fillies and colts’ nightmares. Instead, it was a compendium of old myths and legends from before the first year After Dawn, when ponies lived far harsher lives and were at the mercy of monsters (like yourself, Twilight idly thought).

She had pored over this old book on-and-off for a few days -- quite the intriguing read, if a bit outlandish most of the time-- and had come to the final entry, the sight of which made her breath hitch in her throat.

It was the specter of her foalhood, haunter of her nightmares. The Mare in the Moon.

“The Dark Mare…” Twilight whispered, fearing to even speak her name.

The book told of her as an alicorn black as night on Hearth’s Warming Eve, with stars in her mane. She seized control of the moon and shrouded the world in unending night for a month, before the White Mare banished her to the moon itself after a battle in the old capital of Equestria. The sun rose again and remained for as long as it could before giving way to a normal night once more -- the first day After Dawn. The various archived tellings conflicted with each other, but the consensus the book gave was that The Dark Mare would break free of her prison one day (A thousand years from the day she was banished seemed to be the popular speculation) to wreak havoc and bring about an eternal night, and there would be nopony who could stop her.

Twilight may not have been a pony, but she had been raised by them. How quick she was to panic spoke to this fact. The rational part of her mind was quickly drowned out by her deep-rooted fears and she slammed the tome shut, starting back for the palace at a brisk trot unmindful of the normally overbearing sunlight.

“Lady Twilight!”

Not if the ponies about her would have their say about it, though.

Twilight slowed and turned to see the mare who had addressed her flanked by two more. She racked racked her brain for a name to put to the face. She had definitely seen this pony more than once before, darn it!

She took a shot in the dark on her hazy memory; “Oh, um, hello there, Twinkleshine…?”

The mare smiled. Success! “Indeed! Moondancer is having a little get-together in the west castle courtyard,” She cocked her head to the side ever so slightly, “Would you care to grace it with your attendance?”

“Sorry girls, I’ve uh… got a lot of studying to finish...eating… in the, oven.” You are a master of this, Twilight. “Um-- thank you for the invitation, though!”

Satisfied with her excuse and impeccable manners, the purple mare continued her walk at a more inconspicuous pace, oblivious to the confused looks she had left behind.

The door to the tower’s library swung open very suddenly, collapsing a precarious tower of books upon Spike’s diminutive form. Unlucky for him, he was a baby dragon, so he wasn’t actually hurt, simply weighed down by the avalanche. This annoyed him immensely.

His annoyance was compounded by the barely constrained franticness of his caretaker’s voice. “Spike! Spi-ike!”

No doubt she had come to cut his break short. Hopefully he could stay hidden in the pile of books and--

“Spike?”

He really was much too nice to be a real drake.

With a groan, he pulled himself from the mess and back into view. Twilight beamed at his reappearance, which lessened the sting of defeat somewhat.

“There you are.” The grin disappeared as quickly as it came. “Quick, I need you to get a quill and some parchment and some ink. We have to--” She raised a hoof to point at his backside. “What's that for?”

Spike regarded the now-punctured present impaled on his tail. “Well, it was a gift for Moondancer, but…”

Now Twilight took her turn to look annoyed. “Oh Spike, you know we don't have time for that sort of thing.”

“What!? But I thought we were on a break!”

“Break-time’s over now, Spike. Do you have the materials ready?”

“Naturally.” The infant dragon had swiftly taken to his appointed task, and gave an exaggerated bow.

“Excellent,” Twilight wasn’t even looking at him at the moment. He quietly sighed as she continued, “We need to warn the Princess about the Mare in the Moon.”

Mare in the Moon? “But that's just an old ponies' tale, Twi--”

Twilight continued to not look at him, instead reading from the book she had with her. “‘The Mare in the Moon, the Dark Mare, a myth from olden pony times. A powerful pony who wanted to rule Equestria, defeated by the The White Mare and imprisoned in the moon. Legend has it that on the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she will bring about nighttime eternal!’ Spike! Do you know what this means?”

“...that you fell asleep in the park and had another nightmare?”

To say that the look Twilight gave Spike then was one of dull irritation would be doing her glare injustice. The entire city of Canterlot briefly felt the ire of the unicorn as its essence became, for but a moment, of being unamused, before returning to normal.

The mare chose not to dignify that remark with a response. “Take a note please, to the Princess.”

Quill whetted and hovering above the parchment, Spike did as asked regardless. “Okie dokie.”

“‘My dearest Princess Celestia,’” So Twilight’s dictation began, “‘my continuing studies of the dark and disturbing have led me to discover that we are on the precipice of disaster!’”

“Hold on.”

Twilight looked over to her assistant.

“Preci... preci…”

“Threshold.”

“...Threh…”

It was times like these that Twilight remembered the drake was only ten years old. “Uh, brink?” The scaled youngling looked up at her confusedly. “Ugh, ‘that something really bad is about to happen!

“‘For you see, the mythical Mare in the Moon is in fact The Dark Mare, and she's about to return to Equestria, and bring with her eternal night! Something must be done to make sure this terrible prophecy does not come true. I await your quick response. Your student, Twilight Sparkle.’”

“Twilight... Sparkle. Got it!”

“Great! Send it.”

“...Now?”

“Of course!”

The little dragon shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno, Twilight, Princess Celestia's a little busy getting ready for the Summer Sun Celebration. And it's like, the day after tomorrow.

Twilight turned to him now, a manic look of worry in her brightly glowing eyes. “That's just it, Spike. The day after tomorrow is the thousandth year of the Summer Sun Celebration! It's imperative that the Princess is told right away!”

Spike gave a blank stare in response.

The look became even more deranged as she stepped closer than was comfortable. “Important!”

“Whoa! Okay, okay!” Spike backed away from the crazed unicorn, and with a great huff, conjured an emerald fire from his bellows. It engulfed the letter in its grasp, sending its ashes on a magic current to the recipient. “There, it's on its way. But I wouldn't hold your breath…”

“Oh, I'm not worried, Spike,” A suddenly calmer Twilight remarked, “The Princess may be many things, but one of them is perceptive of things that would threaten all of Equestria. I have faith that she will see the truth.”

Not two moments passed, and Spike belched out another green flame, this one turning into a letter with the Princess’s royal seal upon its ribbon. He caught it in his claw and unfurled it.

Twilight smirked. “See? I knew she would want to take immediate action.”

Spike cleared his now somewhat itchy throat, and began to read the response aloud: “‘My dearest, most faithful student Twilight. You know that I value your diligence and that I trust you completely.’”

Despite herself, Twilight blushed at this.

”’But you simply must stop reading those dusty old books!’”

The mare couldn’t say she wasn’t shocked by the declaration.

Undaunted, Spike read the rest of the letter. “‘My dear Twilight, there is more to a young pony's life than studying, and I’d hate to see you waste the rest of your days away in that tower. So I'm sending you and Sunset Shimmer to supervise the preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration in this year's location: Ponyville. And, I have an even more essential task for you to complete:’

The final sentence of the letter chilled Twilight Sparkle to the bone.

“‘Make some friends!’”