Moonlight Raven steeled herself with a fortifying breath.

She had been standing in front of Bella Nox for a good fifteen minutes, doing nothing but watch the figure sitting at a table in the far corner of the eatery floor. She stared through the well-polished window walls, thoroughly ignoring the couple sitting just beyond the glass who had been giving her odd looks in an effort to get her to move away and let them eat in peace.

The figure she was watching had not moved a single inch since Raven had arrived, and Raven had not moved a single inch since arriving.

It wasn’t like her to be so nervous. In fact, she prided herself in being an ‘emotionless husk of the soul, bereft of all ponydom’, as she described herself in her twenty-page long epic free-verse poem about the consciousness of being and also small hamsters. It was titled The Insufferable Encumbrance of Fluffy Animals and no one was allowed to read it ever on penalty of having their eyes sucked out by frivolous wind demons.

She wondered, thoroughly – going against her habit of avoiding deep and perilous thoughts – if there were perhaps some reason for her jitters. But she easily came to the conclusion that they were merely the effects of the 0th Dimensional Ripples that were currently passing through the syzygy of the third and eighth Baroque Stars right above Canterlot at that very moment, and said effects would last for the exact duration that she was at the restaurant.

That must be it.

Her home-made astrology charts were never wrong.

Moonlight Raven finally looked down at the note held tightly against her bosom, peeling it away from all the perspiration that had started to warp the thick card.

It was a decorated square given to her by Sunshine Smiles, her sister, who was not here today and for good reason. As the card detailed, this was to be a one-on-one; a ménage-à-deux; a pairing of flavours.

And, no: it wasn’t a date.

Moonlight Raven had insisted her sister not call it that; it was an activity so unbefitting a creature of the night such as herself. So, as it was written on the card, it was merely a ‘So, I know you don’t have many friends, like you know, who share the same kind of interests as you? So I hope you don’t mind that I asked that nice designer lady from the other day who sold us those pretty princess dresses. I mean, she’s an artist and artists usually know a bunch of dark weirdos, right? So she asked her friend and she asked her sister, and now you should totally meet this girl because apparently she’s as dark and broody as you are and I’m sure you girls will click and OMC totally tell me how it goes afterward, okay? Or bring her home or something! Her name is Maud Pie and she looks like this (look at the picture!) and also can you please bring back some milk? I ran out and had to use OJ with my cereal and now I have a tummyache.’

If anything, it was succinct.

Also the borders had been filled in painstakingly with flowers and all the periods were smiley faces.

Raven scuffed the cobblestones under-hoof as she stowed the message away in one of the infinitely deep pockets on her Sheer of the Night dress, a lovely lacey thing that was decorated in purple stitchings of bats and cobwebs. She had bought it from the Clop Topic shop, but she always told everyone she had pulled it off a Vampire she vanquished one night whilst on patrol.

There was no mistaking who Maud was, however. In fact, if no one had told Raven better, she would have assumed that the attached photo was taken at that very restaurant.

Everything from her expressionless gaze and impeccably perfect hair was ripped out of reality and placed upon a 4 x 4 glossy.

It was those half-closed eyelids, and the way she sat upon her chair waiting for something to happen.

It was her dour dress over muted colours and the way that she looked like she wanted everyone else in the restaurant to die.

The mare in the restaurant was wearing nothing but a dress that looked like it was cut out of an old curtain. It was sort of just… tied on by a simple belt, and it exuded the spirit of plainness. But behind that plainness, Raven could sense a foul energy, like a cloud laced with bottom gas – it mingled in and hid and only hit you once you stuck your nose in too far.

Raven knew the type. And hadn’t her sister’s letter also said the same?

This Maud was just like her. She was a denizen of the dark. She was a princess of the sullen. She was an advanced-level demonic batdemon demon bat in the skin of a pony who flew around in the night times and gently suckled the blood of the innocent babbies.

She was just like her.

Believing that suddenly made things slightly better.

And Raven had to approach this with care. For she knew that each member of the midnight court carried with them special gifts to aid in their dark dealings.

For example, Raven herself was endowed with the power of the Darklight Fourth Eye (third eyes were so last year) which allowed her to see and read the auras of her fellow Equestrians. These auras appeared to Raven as a hazy mist of colour that surrounded the bodies of those she scryed, and with that, she could tell at an instant what sort of character anyone was.

Raven threw her hoof up to her forehead. She would take the advantage. Never before did she conduct dealings with other soul-fiends without preparation.

“Doo doot doo,” she blipped under her breath. Powers always had to have cool sound effects, as everyone knew. “Doot doo doot doo!”

Intensifying her eyes and thrusting her face up to the glass, she started looking at the inhabitants of the restaurant.

The waiter had an orange aura – the colour that signified social communication. But of course, he was a waiter, and it only made sense. This proved that her fourth eye was still perfectly attuned.

The two patrons behind the glass just in front of her nose clearly sported red auras as they gave her shocked and disturbed looks. They were upset about something, but Raven couldn’t really say what that was.

In fact, everyone in the restaurant had an aura of some kind, from magenta to purple, from black to white.

But Maud…

Raven rubbed her forehead, squinting even more intensely at the character. “Doot doot doo!”

Nothing.

“Doot doot doot!” Raven yelled.

Nothing.

“Gyah!” Raven pulled her hoof back, wincing from the reflection of mystic energies straight back into her forehead. The pony called Maud had sent her own scrying beam right into her most sensitive regions, causing a holistic loop that numbed her mind. She wouldn’t be able to reuse that power for a few hours, now. And to top it off, Maud didn’t even need to move or cast a spell to do it. She just sat there, like an unconscious badger. And yet, Raven felt her powers being mirrored back at her.

Was this her power? If it was, it was one of the most advanced of all the advanced-tier special abilities.

She couldn’t believe that her sister, of all ponies, had found someone who carried Mirrorflect, and could cast it wordlessly and gesturelessly to boot!

Raven could not read her aura.

She had no idea what to do or what to say when she finally met this Maud mare.

She had no idea how to go about her introduction.

Fate was forcing Raven to do this the old-fashioned way.

She was going to have to talk to her like a regular pony.

Raven desperately thought of other things she could do to procrastinate the act of going in and saying hello to this mysterious stranger who by the way, was kinda cu–

Raven felt her chest clench.

Damn stars.

She pulled away from the window, much to the relief of the couple she had been hovering over, and moved to the door.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Maud motion with deliberation, flagging a waiter down.

And just as she pushed through the door and crossed the marble floors and potted plants, everything came together like a well-rehearsed dance, and she found herself standing at the far table just as the waiter brought over two glasses of ice cold water.

Maud tilted her head up, only just enough to stare emotionlessly at the arrival.

Plastic bats hung from the ceiling, taped up on string. A few had been put in front of the air conditioning unit so they’d flutter around when the winds were in full force.

There was a common colour-scheme about – the walls, furniture and dressings were all in blacks, dull blues, mute purples and a hint of red here or there.

But there was also a lovely bouquet of colourful carnations on a little desk by the door, and a pink fluffy carpet along the ground that had been very worn down due to multiple rollings-in.

A melodic tune, heavy with soft violins and strong pianos over a classical aspect, cascaded through the air. The woodwind section in this particular movement was nothing short of exquisite.

Raven’s head moved to the notes that resonated with the beating of her heart. In. Out. Dip. Daub. She held a brush tight in her teeth; minute twitches of the thing in her hoof brought colour to its grey surface. Magic helped to keep it steady for the fine details that were required.

A few more touches and the first phase would be complete.

There was a creak outside her door. The floorboards in the hall always sang when certain ponies stepped upon them in certain ways.

Raven put the model down on her crafts table with a soft sigh, spitting the brush into a water cup by her side, throwing a black cardboard box over it all. She stood up, flipping the arm off the record, plunging the room into silence. Carefully creeping to her door, she started counting in time with the passing seconds.

At just the right moment, she pulled on a little string that led through the gap at the top of her door.

On the other side, a bell could be heard, faintly, ringing away with each tug.

“Halt.” Raven declared, suddenly, attempting to both sound excitable and bored at the same time. “The cantrip bell doth warn me of encroaching doom. Who passeth by my door?”

“Hey, sis!” came the muffled reply.

“Oh,” Raven said, swinging the door open.

“Hey, sis!” Sunshine Smiles repeated, as she bound into the room. A small square envelope was in tow, enfolded in magic.

“Hey, sis,” Raven muttered back with a slight smile, “what’s going on?”

“Oooo… nothing!” Sunshine chortled, hopping to the table and sneaking a peek under the cardboard box.

“Oh. I se–”

“I lied!” Sunshine let the box drop back, turning around and flying the letter to her sister. “I have a surprise for you!”

Raven stared listlessly at the envelope.

“Go on, take it!” Sunshine grinned.

“What is it?” Raven asked, lifting a hoof with wariness.

“You remember those princess dresses we bought the other week?”

“My Midnight Gown of Midnight, you mean,” Raven growled. “It helps me channel Princess Luna’s magic.”

“Yeah! The princess dresses! Well, so, mine needed to be altered a bit, right? Because it was weird around the shoulders? So I went back again a couple days later, right? And it was a slow day, and, like, Rarity herself happened to be there. So she gladly helped me with the alterations, and you know, she’s such a, like, lovely girl, right, and we get to talking, and we start talking about you, and like, we like totally hit it off because like, she told me that.” Sunshine took a breath. “She also had a friend who, like, totally has a sister, and I kinda was talking about you but then Rarity was all like ‘Oh darling, I totally have someone she should totally meet’ and, like…”

Raven cleared her throat.

“Oh, right, sorry.” Sunshine said. “Long story short, I think you could totally be friends, so I arranged for you guys to, you know, meet. Everything you need’s in that envelope there.”

The happy pink unicorn gestured to the square of paper.

“And I basically wrote down everything I just said just in case you forget, you know? Anyway, it’s in a couple of days, so get ready!” Sunshine concluded.

Raven lowered her eyelids.

Sunshine beamed.

“I… uh… well. Thanks? I guess,” Raven said, tilting her head down and away as she threw the envelope to her bed. “You know. Again. But I dunno. Didn’t work the first couple times, did it?”

Raven let her eyes wander away, mind full of fog.

“Hey, sis.” Sunshine called.

Raven looked up, slightly.

A great, warm smile shone back.

“Listen,” Sunshine said. “I know we’ve done this before. And I’m, like, super sorry to always be meddling and stuff, okay? But I’m your big sister, and I think it’s important for you to get a friend, you know? Don’t you want friends?”

“I dunno. I guess.” Raven replied. “Like, I mean, I tried, right? Maybe Equestria doesn’t want me to have them.”

“Don’t even say that, girl.”

“Yeah, well. I mean, It’s pretty evident, isn’t it? I don’t get along with others. They fear me. Remember all those parties?”

“Well… it’s... your…”

“Besides, I have you, don’t I? We have fun, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do. Of course we do. But even then, we’re still kinda like day and night sometimes. Sure, we like some same stuff, and things, yeah? But, like, for all the other stuff… well, that’s what friends are for.”

“I guess. I dunno,” Raven let out a sigh. “But what’s so different about this pony?”

“Well, according to Rarity, she’s, you know. A little like you.”

“Wait, so… like…” Raven scuffed her hoof on her floor. “You mean you found another Night Queen?”

“Mmm.” Sunshine hummed. She stopped speaking for a moment, letting her smile drop slightly. She nodded to herself, deep in thought, taking in a breath before continuing.

“Okay. Sis? Listen… I kinda… we kinda need to talk about this, though.”

“About what?”

“Look. I know… we know… how you’re like. And all these things you do… they’re fun! I mean, I like ‘em! You’re really creative and that’s cool! But… maybe it’d be better if you tried going as yourself this time.”

“What are you saying?” Raven asked, her eyebrows raising, looking a bit disgruntled.

“No, no!” Sunshine quickly defused. “All I mean is that sometimes… when you’re nervous, or excited, or you just want to… you know. You tend to… make things up.”

“Make things up?”

“Yes. Like your powers and all these things about you being born in the eighteenth level of Tartaru–”

“Nineteenth.” Raven grumbled.

“Yes. Nineteenth. But that’s what I mean. All these things. And… oh!” Sunshine’s shoulders dropped as she sighed in exasperation. “Oh, sis, we both know it isn’t really real. We both know what you do and why you do it, and… you need to learn how to stop.”

Raven flushed red, throwing her eyes away from Sunshine once more.

“You’re growing up. And… and you don’t have to do this anymore. Alright? Just… be calm. No one’s actually saying that you can’t be yourself. But… just don’t take it too far. I think… I think maybe that’s why the last couple tries didn’t work out so good.”

“Look, I can’t help how I was born, alright?” Raven said suddenly, haughtily. “These powers of mine are a curse! Of course mere… mere mortals wouldn’t understand! I’m not like you, or mom, or dad!”

“I think you are,” Sunshine said sadly, as she lifted the black cardboard box again, revealing the half-painted Magical Mare Steel Steed Six: Wonder Biscuit model kit that Raven was working on.

Raven didn’t answer. She just turned and stared at the envelope that lay quietly next to her pillows. Her face burned hot, and she couldn’t find the words she wanted to say. Her mind just wouldn’t summon them forth.

Sunshine lowered the box, sniffing. “Looking good, sis. Show me when you’re done, alright? And please. Just… think about what I said. You don’t have to go, but… I think this is a great chance for you to finally figure out who you need to be.”

“H-hey,” Raven squeaked. Her hoof flew up to her mouth as she gave a few sharp coughs. She tried again, adding just the right amount of vocal fry. “Heeey.”

“Moonlight Raven.” Maud said, with a voice dry and impassioned. She said it slow, each letter trickling out of her mouth like molasses.

“Yeah. And you totally must be Maud, right?” Raven said, giving her best spooky-girl grin. “Nice to meet you, I guess. I apologize about my aura. I know it’s pretty strong, but I’ll hold it back for you.”

Maud blinked. Slowly.

Raven blinked back.

Maud blinked again.

Raven’s grin started to fall.

“Are you going to sit down?” Maud asked, pointing. “Your water’s getting tepid.”

Raven drew her head back. Maud’s response was entirely not what she had expected. In fact, it was something completely new to her. Maud’s response was a gravity-well that sucked the joy and life out of everything in its reach. It was a tree that grew fruit of listlessness and apathy. It sounded like every effort was given just to say individual words simply because finding something else to do would take too much effort.

Maud sounded thoroughly unimpressed.

“O-oh, right.” Raven muttered, putting up her grin again. “Yeah, totally. I mean, standing’s just cooler, you know? L-like, you know, standing at the corner of a street and just watching ponies go by? So sometimes I just like… like to stand.”

She reached for her chair but froze when Maud gave her reply.

“I agree. Sometimes I like to stand and watch things. For hours. Usually rocks. Just to see how they weather. Days, even. They might erode, but my attention never does.” Maud’s chair shuffed back. “We can stand for the duration of this meal.”

“Ah… I…” Raven stammered, holding a hoof out to try to stop something from happening. She wasn’t quite sure what that was yet.

Maud pulled herself up from her seat, pushing her chair away, taking its place in the middle of a busy restaurant.

“Um… ah…” Raven said, pointing at the chair.

Maud’s face didn’t betray a single thought that might have been going through her mind.

Raven felt the sweat bead on her forehead and around her horn as she heard the chatter in the restaurant drop by a noticeable amount.

Very casually, Maud reached down, across the table, and picked up her glass of water.

The restaurant was nearly completely quiet now, save for a few whispers that floated through the air before disappearing to the ether. Raven was certain most of them came from that couple by the window.

Raven’s mind had started to fill with little bursts of emptiness – little balls that chased away cohesive thought.

“Mmm, look,” Maud took a sip of water, speaking in monotone. “we’re having fun.”

“I’m sorry, is zere a problem?” the waiter said, rushing over, looking to Raven and Maud. “If ze madam is upset with ze chairs…”

“No,” Maud responded. “We’d just prefer to sta–”

“Ah… no! It’s nothing,” Raven cut in, turning back to Maud. “Yeah, um… I was standing the whole day today? You know. So uh… it’s okay! We’ll sit.”

The goth quickly threw herself into her seat, biting her bottom lip.

The waiter gave them a very confused look.

“Zere is… no problem?” the waiter asked, leaning over.

“No,” Raven said quietly, eyes running over the table. “Uh… maybe just a couple of menus?”

“Just one.” Maud said, retaking her throne. “You may go now.”

Raven felt her chest tighten even more. Perhaps she should come clean. Perhaps this was the best time to…

No.

Things were escaping the iron grasp of the Dark One, Moonlight Raven, Lady of the Bloodmoon Eclipse and Next In Line for the Throne of the Moon, You Know, Once Luna Decides to Retire. This whole kerfuffle was quite unbecoming of her. Admitting mistakes was beneath her stature.

“That’s right!” Raven laughed, suddenly full of an irrational confidence. “I’ve been standing for days now, waiting for the portal to the Ashen Burrows, a trans-dimensional entryway that only appears at its own whim and fancy! Within is nothing but relief from all strife and stress, but one must be patient for the portal to appear, for it is as fickle as the sun!”

That’s right, Raven thought, Sunshine takes forever in the toilet.

“Yeah. I figured you might have been tired.” Maud said.

“Whuzeee?” Raven sputtered, her opus cut short.

“You’d been standing out there staring at me for fifteen minutes.” Maud pointed to the window. “That’s why I prefer to stare at rocks. It’s much less tiring than staring at ponies.”

“Oh. So. So you saw me, huh?” Raven slurred, letting her low and raspy voice do all the work. She forced the sly grin on, and narrowed her eyes for great effect. “That’s right. I was just, you know. Checking you out. Getting to know my enemy.”

“Oh.” Maud said.

“Yeah.” Raven nodded grinning extra wide so that Maud could see her clip-on fangs. “I always make sure to know who I’m dealing with. You can’t be too careful, can you, what with who we are.”

“Who we are?” Maud asked.

“Yeah, totally.” Raven gave Maud a confident smirk, leaning back with her head in her hoof.

“Rock farmers?”

“Uh…” Raven’s elbow slid a little. “What?”

“You’re a rock farmer too? My sister told me you were an artist. That’s why I came out tonight. I don’t really do this, but my sister wanted me to be more sociable with ponies like her,” Maud drawled, speaking in a single note with all the energy of the complimentary baguettes that were on the table. “You should have seen me a year ago. I was a lot less expressive than I am today.”

Raven nodded, absorbing this information. Maud must have trained with the holy monks of Neighpal, a secretive group that dampened emotion and sat about all day doing nothing.

“So. What kind of artist are you?” Maud asked.

“No!” Raven cried out, raising her legs over her head. “I’m not an artist!”

It was lightning wit that saved her. A vicious mistruth was nearly spilt forth, like blood upon sand. It simply would not do for anyone to see her as a mere artist. Luckily, with her blessedly quick thinking, she was able to deny it completely, and now, they were back on equal gr–

Raven raised her eyebrows.“Wait, you’re a rock farmer?”

“Well. I don’t know what my sister said. She exaggerates sometimes. No matter.” Maud blinked. “What do you do, then?”

“I… I…”

- design and make jewelry to sell at the weekend fair -

“... summon into being the fetters of the spirit realm, where, four times the cycle of a moon, mortal ponies may perchance to reign in these dark artefacts for personal ownership…”

- and sometimes I temp at my sister’s daycare center -

“... and at the apex of ennui, I lord over Tartarus’ crèche, whereupon I command a legion of tiny cerberus imps in the stead of my elder blood-kin…”

- but really, I’m saving up for school -

“... all for the final goal of one day gathering up a wealth of dark knowledge that I will use to take over this frail planet!”

Maud lifted her shoulders by a tenth of a centimeter. “Okay. That’s reasonable.”

“It is?” Raven coughed. “I mean… uh…”

“As for me, I’m a rock farmer. I just farm rocks. It’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“O-oh… But, the… the darkness…”

“Menu, Miss,” the waiter said, as he swung by and dropped a single menu off into Raven’s hooves.

“I… what?” Raven turned just in time to see the waiter leave. Of course he left quickly. It was her… her dark power aura… or something! That’s right, something! That was to say...

Raven’s mind jumbled up, her castle crumbling for a single brick mislaid.

Maud was just sitting there. Waiting. Waiting for a response. Waiting for the next move. She had, with a single brush-off blow, completely disarmed Introductory Tactic #109a: The Predator Gambit, in which Raven asserted her dominance in order to clearly set the relationship between them from the start, in true Mare of the Night fashion.

Raven jumped on the one thing she could to recover.

“Um… what about you?” Raven asked weakly, noting Maud’s lack of menu.

“Hm?”

“Are you not… p-partaking of nourishment?”

“I had a look at the menu while you were waiting outside. I know what I want.” Maud turned her head slightly to get a better look at the restaurant. “My sister chose this place. I’m not really into food.”

“Y-yeah,” Raven quickly agreed. “Me neither.”

She quickly ran her eyes down the list of food that this restaurant of repute had to offer.

“S-so, what are you having?” Raven asked.

“Salad.” Maud said. “No dressing.”

“Oh, I… I see.” Raven’s stomach rumbled in protest as she looked over the delicious menu items.

“You know what,” Maud said. “Today’s a special day. I’ll treat myself. Croutons.”

Raven’s eyes travelled down the rest of the list, her eyes hovering here and there, and made it to the very last item on the menu.

Raven gulped.

“Y-yeah. Me too,” she said. “N-nothing much here that’s like… dark enough. I’m gonna get the same, I think. P-p…”

Raven almost had to force herself to say it.

“Plain salad.”

“Is that… dark, though?” Maud asked, an eyebrow raising barely an inch.

“I… I’ll have it with soy sauce!” Raven declared.

“That sounds… disgusting.” Maud offered her opinion.

“It will be perfect!” Raven insisted.

Maud lowered her eyebrow back into place. “If you say so.”

Her hoof shot up even before Raven could change her mind. The waiter was summoned like a genie from a bottle.

“Hi,” Maud said. “I’d like a plain salad. Croutons. No dressing. And my friend would like…”

The pony turned to look at Raven, staring intently at her.

“My friend would like the same. With soy sauce. Thank you.” Maud finished.

“Merci, miss,” the waiter said, pulling the menu gently out from the Raven’s hooves. He stopped a moment before turning back to her, face as stoic as it always was. “Pardon, ma’am, but you wanted ‘zoy sauce’?”

“Y-yeah!” Raven confirmed, nodding a bit over-eagerly.

“Ah, perhaps ze lady means ze balsamic-zoy vinaigrette?” The waiter tilted his head.

“N-nyyyeeehhh…” Raven muttered. “Uh… yes. Yes. Maybe. Is… is it dark?”

“Dark, miss?” the waiter asked.

“Yes! Dark! Will it call forth the spirits of Tartarus with every bite, imbibing me with the powers of the black river and blessing me control over the lesser thralls of the underworld?”

“Eh,” the waiter responded, frowning. “It is… salty and sour with ze raspberry overtones.”

“Y-yes! Perfect! I’ll have that!”

“Very well, miss.”

As the waiter walked off, Raven let out a big huff of relief, turning back to Maud.

She was staring.

“Hyeee!” Raven squeaked.

“So. That was interesting.” Maud observed. “You’re interesting.”

“I… I am?”

“Yes. I get it. You’re some kind of performer. You have dedication to character. I can appreciate that.”

“Ch-character?”

“Yeah. You know. All that.” Maud raised a hoof to Raven’s face.

Raven blinked, shaking her head from side to side.

“You’re an actor, then. Practicing a role.”

“I’m… I’m not acting,” murmured Raven.

“Really. Then what’s all this about? It’s just a character, right?”

The little goth shrank into herself, her shoulders falling a bit as she stared at the table. Her eyes weakened, as an attempt to swallow merely brought a sharp pain to the throat.

In her ears remained the echo of the question asked innocently and simply.

It’s just a character, right?

There were whispers, but then again, there always were if one listened hard enough. Like prickly burrs that clung onto the fur of any animal that foolishly came within reach, the barbed spines of whispered words dug in deep, refusing to let go.

But she would shake them off. Ultimately, she always ended up shaking them off.

Raven nursed a cup of unidentified party-relevant drink in the darkest corner of the house, while all around her those familiar daggers of passing commentary struck her, where they burrowed into her flesh, crawled under her skin, and lodged themselves firmly in the back of her head where they festered.

She looked entirely out of place there in her black shawl and black makeup, in the center of a brightly-lit room with a dozen or more actively joyous ponies milling about, dancing, playing various games of ill-repute and enjoying a host of colourful snacky cakes.

All she had to do was stand there behind the couch and listen.

The latest whisper made her tilt her head up, but only just a little, just enough to see the geeky bespectacled basement-dweller pass along the razor-thin observation to his friend, the slack-jawed buggy-eyed shrimplet.

Raven tilted her head down again while they conferred.

This always happened.

And then, the curious, the unenlightened, the fresh blood, they would approach. And they would speak, and ask their curious prodding questions, and they would try to understand. But there was never anything for them to understand. She was beyond it all. She was far above and far away, travelling in a dimension parallel to these mere fools.

“H-hey,” the young stallion asked, pushing his glasses up his nose, as he approached.

Raven turned her nose up and gave him a smirk.

“A...ah. Hi. So, my friend and I were wondering, and you know. Sorry for, like, interrupting, but… we were just wondering.”

“Mmm,” Raven hummed. “Of course you were. I don’t blame you. I command the aura of attention.”

“O-oh. Yes. I mean… um…”

Raven turned suddenly to face the one who so dared to come close, shooting him a gaze from her mascara-laden eyes.

He stepped back, cowering out of instinct more than anything else.

But that was right. This was the correct response. This was how she had always dealt with others, and this is what she had always come to expect. This was simply how the world saw her, and thusly, how she had to treat the world.

“What is it you wish? And you must refer to me as ‘mistress’,” Raven commanded.

“Oh… oh yes, Mistress. I mean… Um… yeah. We were just curious, like… so… what’s up with all… that?”

“All what?” Raven sputtered. “What art thou insinuating?”

“Uh… I mean… your… you know. Your deal? Is that from a play… or…”

“Hmph.” Raven snorted, twisting her head away from the pleb. “I am an agent of the shadows, waiting for the return of my Queen, Nightmare Moon: herald of Nightmare Night and the once-dominant of the forsaken, Princess Luna! She will one day return upon Canterlot and bring forth a new age! And when she does, her loyal servants will answer her call!”

“O-oh.”

“Yes!”

“Oh. Because like… I mean… what are you doing here, then?”

“Do you see that lady of crimson fair?” Raven gestured. “Mane of golden flax?”

The stallion turned. “Um… Sunshine? The… the birthday girl?”

“She is of mine blood.”

“She’s your…”

“Our blood is shared!”

“... your sister?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

The stallion looked taken aback, almost if someone had just told him the moon was just another sun. Of course, sisters had the right to individuality, but…

“Oh, wait. Wait a minute,” the stallion muttered. “You’re Raven? Moonlight Raven?”

“Mistress!”

“No! No! You’re Moonlight Raven! Hey! My friend there,” the peon chucked a hoof over his shoulder, “sits behind you in science class! You look so different in school! Guess they don’t allow you to wear all this makeup and stuff there, huh?”

Raven started to feel her cheeks flush. Or maybe that was just a burning volcanic anger rushing to her head. “M-makeup? This is… this is not m–”

“You know, my friend over there actually kinda thinks you’re sorta cute. You know, without all this going on.”

Raven’s mouth unhinged itself slightly, as the gap widened between her lips. She noted the stallion’s friend – who now didn’t look as shrimplet as he had before, for some reason – giving the stallion looks of embarrassed awkwardness.

The stallion himself was grinning slightly, and she looked down when he had very unceremoniously placed a hoof on her leg.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go. You know, join the party. It’s your sister’s birthday, right? Let’s play a game or something, huh?”

Raven felt the cold hoof of the night squeeze her chest, dropping a sharp pain down into her stomach. “I…”

“Let’s hang out,” the stallion tugged at her arm, smiling even more.

“I… o-okay, I…” Raven said, feeling the edges of her mouth turning upward despite her darkest wishes.

She saw her sister, playing in the corner – some silly elaborate board-game with lasers and space battles and rockets and figures and dice. For a brief second, Raven’s eye touched Sunshine’s, and Sunshine, with a little nod of her head, beckoned her to join.

She saw the others, milling about – some with the game, some with the food. Two in front of her and the rest talking in small groups amongst themselves.

It looked… fun. It was fun. It was a normal party, with normal goings-on, and normal ponies doing normal things. There was almost a chance that this invitation was in earnest. And maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

But Raven listened.

And that’s how it went.

That’s who she was.

Her smile disappeared, and she hesitated, pulling back against the beckonings of the stallion.

She had only forgotten who she was for a moment, thanks to this awful pony gut-child who weakened her mind with a spell of enchantment, as cute boys were known to do.

But now she was back to her true self, and wrenched her leg free from the grasp of the pleb, putting up a wicked, cackling grin. “You are brave, boy, to lay hoof upon mine flesh, for it sears like a thousand suns upon mortal skin. Do you not feel it burn?”

The stallion’s smile wilted into a downcast frown. Dipped eyebrows pulled back to face his friend, who gave a small, hesitant shrug in return. He lowered his hoof, and stepped back a little.

“S-sorry, then. Didn’t think... “ he shook his head. “Nevermind.”

And they were gone, just how it was, and just how it was meant to be.

Raven kept grinning past the clenching in the pit of her stomach.

After all, she had a reputation to uphold.

The cool, night winds pulled like silk across Raven’s face and back. Chilly, comforting, it caught up in the folds of her dress and brought it lightly to life, and upon wafting zephyrs did it dance and cavort under the full moon.

Maud plodded along, her dress tied far too tightly around her waist to be allowed revelry. She ignored the wind. Wind was dumb.

Two ponies in their aspects – one ephemeral, one solid as a rock – trotted their dinners off as they made their way down Glitterstone Coast, a rather pleasant nocturnal ward of Canterlot known for a robust fair-like atmosphere and a host of night-time activities beside.

Shops and galleries lined the way, stretching for a good kilometer and a half, bordering stands and carnival games, all of which dotted the wooden boardwalk that enwrapped a small black waterfront that the locals called the infinity beach.

It was only for show, of course; true Canterlotians never frolicked, and the waters that ebbed over the imported sand was merely run-off from the eternal waterfalls that flowed from Canterlot Mountain; it was a mere meter deep at all points, and it was only its placement at the very edge of a cliff which gave it the illusion of stretching off to eternity and merging with the stars.

The two of them had made their way down to the waterside, where they walked in inky darkness across glittering sand with a small dim lamp to brighten the way. The beach was intentionally kept dark so as to accentuate the spectacle.

Maud felt the grains underhoof, as she stooped low, giving the beach a curious sniff.

“Mm,” she said. “Blackened magic smoke-quartz from the Winterwound Snowpeaks. Very smooth; very resistant. Hardness of ten; oddly high lunar-albedo of sixty-three percent which gives it a glitter-like shine when struck specifically by moonlight.”

The pony raised her head, pulling a small sack from her waist.

“Quite ingenious. I would have never thought of its utility in such a manner, to create a beach that shines only at night. Princess Celestia sure knows what she’s doing.”

Maud reached down, coaxing a bit of sand into the tiny little bag.

She stopped, looking toward Raven.

“You don’t think she’d mind if I took a bit, do you?”

“No, of course not,” Raven said, absently. She was staring out into the small circular sea, watching it ripple under the winds and listening to the rushing purr of the water pouring over the edge only to disappear as mist below. “No doubt it is for you to wend your dark earth magic. A channel, perhaps, or a glyph-beacon?”

“Just… for my collection. I have a collection.” Maud turned back to continue her theft.

“Oh.”

“Yes. This specimen is quite rare. It is unfortunate that I am unable to get a larger sample, but this will have to do.” Maud straightened up, tossing the small bag into a pocket.

“But… but will it not affect thine casting?” Raven looked towards Maud, pulling herself away from the stars.

“What?”

“Thine… your casting. You know. As an earth-witch, your magic surely grows with the quality and form of your reagents.”

“It’s for a collection. I put it on a shelf.”

“And… and the leylines can get disrupted if your stones are not in perfect alignment!”

“Sometimes I look at them. Sometimes others look at them. That’s really all it is.”

“I believe it would be better for you if you were to retrieve a sample intact!”

“Huh.” Maud raised an eyebrow. “Are you offering to get me a whole smoke-quartz?”

Was she? Of course not. That wasn’t the point of what she was saying. All she was doing was pointing out an obvious truth. Magic just worked better with whole rocks and not a pile of dust.

And here Maud was completely misreading the situation.

How silly she was, the fool! To think that she would mistake Raven’s sentiments for an offer of genuine charity, thereby opening up a line of communication over a common subject and potentially leading to friendship and connection and some sort of camaraderie!

“Oh, uh… would you… would you like that?” Raven asked, meekly.

“Well… I would… that would be nice,” Maud droned. “That would be quite nice.”

Raven broke out into a smile. “Then… then I shall! It should be a simple thing for me! I must merely break bread with the fire-demons of Turgia, and offer unto them a sacrifice of flesh and blood!”

“Okay. I’m going to need help with that one. What’s Turgia?” Maud asked.

“Turgia is a layer of Tartarus where the foulest of ponies are imprisoned, their souls blackened by their deeds in life, such that they are consumed by sin and are reborn as creatures of hate and energy!”

“I see,” Maud said. “And Princess Celestia knows about this?”

“O-of course! Is Tartarus not her d-domain?” Raven scratched the back of her head, her smile dipping.

“Doesn’t she… not want to create more demons of hate and energy? I thought her deal was protecting Equestria.”

“Oh, it… it is! Of course. She is an enemy to the dark forces with whom I seance…”

“But she creates them.”

“Ah…”

“But is also their enemy.”

“Well, you seeeee….” Raven murmured.

“Also, did you say ‘fire-demons’?”

“Yes! Yes!” Raven nodded frantically. “Turgia is very hot. It is a million degrees, and it is through my intense training that I can even take breath there without my lungs bursting into flame!”

“Well, that won’t do.”

“W-what?”

“Smoke-quartz is very sensitive. Anything above three hundred and fifty-two degrees would cause fractures in its crystalline structure, making it liable to burst like glass undergoing thermal shock. This is, of course, due to the magic strata and crystal molecule lattice becoming loosened due to concentrated heat. In essence,” Maud took a breath, “its beauty is its weakness.”

“I… what?”

“I sincerely doubt you would be able to get it there.” Maud shook her head slowly.

“N-no! I surely can! I definitely can!”

Maud dropped into silence, looking the other pony over as if she were seeing her for the first time. "While I appreciate the sentiment, you don’t have to l–”

“Then, we shall embark on a quest! Together! Surely, with your knowledge of the dirt-arcane…” Raven insisted. She didn't want to hear what Maud was going to say.

“Right. From ‘Turgia’.”

“Y-yes.”

Maud looked off to the side, her eyes travelling the darkened coastline.

"I don't understand something," Maud said, snapping her gaze back quickly, edges of her mouth turned down slightly. “Why are you doing this?”

"B-because! Because…" Raven stammered. "Because this is important!"

Maud raised an eyebrow.

"I mean… It's important to your magic! Isn't it?" Raven threw her leg up to her chest. "For how… how will you be able to commune with the spirits of salt, or summon golems almighty… or…"

"Well, I wouldn't either way." Maud stated firmly. "As we established earlier at the restaurant, despite your insistence, I am a rock farmer. Nothing more. Nothing less."

“Ah…” Raven murmured, deflating. “I… but…”

“Sorry to let you down.”

Maud gave Raven a little nod. It was far from an encouraging smile, but it somewhat carried the same sentiment, albeit done Maudishly. She turned, walked over the sand, heading up to the lights and noise that wafted in from the boardwalk carnival games in dribs and drabs.

“No!” came a shout from behind her, halting her in place.

She turned back.

Raven stood there, shoulders hunched, head flung low, a look of bewildering determination scribbled across her face in an unfamiliar language.

“I’ll do it!” she cried out. “I will! I’ll find a stone for you! Why won’t you believe me?”

“When did you start believing yourself?” Maud asked back.

Raven jerked back, her eyes wide as Maud’s words struck her, sharp like an arrow, in the sides.

“You know,” Maud continued. “I have a bit of experience with this. My sister is prone to having bursts of overactive imagination as well. Sometimes it’s cute. Sometimes, less so. Sometimes it’s not that much of a problem. But other times… Well, it gets complicated when you get sucked in too deep. I’d be careful about that if I were you.”

Maud twisted her mouth into pursed lips.

“Mmm,” she said, looking back up toward the noise and lights. “Why don’t we just leave it here? Let’s go up to the booths. Unlike what other ponies say, I am perfectly capable of having fun. I’ve been practicing.”

Raven’s stomach felt like someone had upended a sack of rocks straight into it. Her jaw clenched and unclenched, not in anger, but more in fear; sometimes the truth was a frightening prospect, especially when one doesn’t notice it. Her eyes darted wildly as Maud’s words echoed, once more.

When did you start believing yourself?

The Esteemed Shining Prodigy Institute for Gifted Youngsters was neither prodigious nor did it produce any particularly gifted students, but this was Canterlot and names did matter.

And it was a matter of fact that it had always seemed, at least to Raven, that Sunshine Smiles studied there for five years because she was a paragon of everything the grade school stood for, while Raven studied there for four years because she was Sunshine’s sister.

Her blazer clashed with her fur and mane, and almost everything about her set her apart from the others, like a little black sheep sitting in the corner of class, different in both appearance and disposition.

She normally tucked herself away in her own little world, far from the others in the class who always whispered behind her back. She wished she were a year older so that she could at least be in a class with one single familial face, but things never did work out that well.

It had become a daily habit for her to engross herself in books, but not the type that the school would approve. These books had pictures. They were mostly pictures, in fact, and depicted the struggles of six ponies in a faraway land who used viciously creative powers against monsters in a neverending struggle of light versus darkness.

Of course, it was enjoyable during the times when she actually had the book with her.

“Hey!” Raven called out across the classroom, storming past desks and tables to the front. “Like, what are you guys doing? That’s totally not cool!”

The laughter that she had been walking towards steadily dropped, and four jovial faces switched to something far more serious as the tone shifted dramatically.

“Oh, hey, Moonlight,” one of the colts said, as he turned his head to greet the intruder. “What’s going on?”

“You know what’s going on!” Raven yelled. “Give it back!”

“Hey, look, don’t worry about it,” the colt replied. “We’re just looking at your picture book. We’ll give it back.”

“No! You didn’t ask! You have to ask before taking things!”

“Sheesh. Relax, Moonie,” another one said. “We’re just looking at your stupid book! What’s the big deal?”

Another bound of chuckles escaped their lips as they turned another page.

“This is so dumb. What is this mystical moonlight power stuff? That’s dumb.”

“Yeah, I mean like… what, are their cutie marks in changing clothes or something? Or making petals appear?”

“Haha, yeah.”

Raven sighed, stamping her hoof down. “C’mon, guys! Give it back, please?”

“Yeah, yeah! We’ll give it back! Go sit down, we’ll give it back when we finish, okay?” the same colt spit out, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey, come take a look at this, Spark,” his friend called.

The group tightened in closer, backs turned to Raven.

She huffed out a breath again, brushing her mane away. It had an annoying habit of curling up around her horn; lately, the tips of her hair had started to move in weird, uncontrollable ways that did not help with her overall look.

“Aw, man, what the heck is a power baton?”

“Look at all these poses and stuff! Why would anyone pose before fighting?”

They laughed.

It rang in Raven’s ears.

“Okay, give it back now!” she cried, shoving her hoof into a crack between bodies. She pushed forward, squirming her way past the group.

“Hey!”

“Watch it!”

“Hey!” the stallion named Spark yelled, shoving Raven in the chest.

She tottered on her hooves, bumping into a table as she was thrust backward.

“Hey, I said we’d give it back, alright? What’s your problem? We just wanna look at the stupid things that you stupid read, you dork, so why don’t you just sit down and shut up?” he yelled, prodding Raven back even further as she stumbled, hoof over hoof, in an effort to get away.

“I… I’m sorry… I…” Raven squeaked, holding a leg up to shield her face.

“You think you’re so special? Huh? Looking like that and reading weird things from other countries? What’s wrong with books from Canterlot, huh? Why you gotta be so different?”

More colts had joined the march. There were three now. Maybe four. Raven had lost the ability to count.

“I don’t…”

“I mean, we’re just tryin’ to find out why you like this kinda stuff, right? You’re always sitting there by yourself like some kinda loner. We just wanted to figure out what you like so we could be your friends! Why don’t you wanna make friends, Moonie? You don’t want friends or something?”

“I… I do, but…”

“Then stop being a jerk about it!” the colt yelled, shoving her down.

No one else in the class stood up.

No one else in the class bothered to look up from their own books, or stop their casual conversation, although the subject of those conversations were remarkably different from where they started from.

It was just how things went.

Raven’s breath became heavy as the weight behind her eyes forced her to look at the floor. She gulped for air.

But slowly, she lifted a hoof.

“Please, I just… I just want my book back, okay? Please,” she whimpered, sitting on the floor.

“Oh man. Oh man,” Flash laughed. “Looks like she’s deaf. Boys! We figured it out! She’s deaf. That’s why she can’t understand nothin’!”

The book flew off the table and hovered in front of her face, just out of reach.

“You want it back, Moonie?” Flash asked. “You want the book back?”

Raven didn’t answer. She just sat, eyes glued to a very special floor-tile, her hoof shaking as it remained in air.

“You want it back?” he asked again.

“P-please.” A voice crept out from behind a curtain of hair.

The book flew out the window, pages ruffling in the wind, lodging into the branches of a tree.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “My hoof slipped.”

A small dot of water marked the otherwise-pristine white marble floor.

“I mean, I tried. I tried to be your friend, but I guess you didn’t want it.” Flash shrugged, turning to walk away. “Sorry about that.”

Raven shuddered. Her hoof lowered as her mind burned red hot. A pinprick of white swirled out from the inky blackness, spreading out over her mind and clawing into her forehead. She grit her teeth and raised her shoulders, as a low growl emanated from between her lips.

“Curse you…” she whispered.

“What? What was that?” Flash looked back over his shoulder.

“Curse you!” Raven yelled, throwing her head up and fixating her hoof straight at Flash’s nose. Her voice, raspy and broken. Her eyes, burning with an intense blue fire that shot forward and burned through her enemies.

“I curse you with the Undermire Stream!” she recited the pages of her favourite comic. “The blood crows come down and eat your eyes! The rivers run with your bubbling ichor!”

“What? What the heck are you talking about?” the colt said, frowning.

Slowly, Raven stood up, continuing to hold a hoof out. “Your tongue will melt into froth and soup! Your tail will fray and be feasted upon by the demons of Antimony! You will feel the pain of a thousand needles burrowing into your skin as you lay helpless upon the salt flats of Adumbration!”

“H-hey! You… shut up, you!” Flash said, looking confused now. He pulled back, looking toward his friends, whom all had decided to busy themselves with their own activities.

“Death! Death and pain upon thee!” Raven continued to cry, incited by fury. “I call down the ravens! I call them down!”

Outside, a book slipped off a branch.

The cries of ravens filled the air as their peaceful respite was disturbed from above.

“Uh!” Flash gasped, looking outside to see a flock disappear off into the distance.

Raven stood there, holding her hoof out.

“Fine!” Flash spat. “You’re nuts, Moonie. I’d better not die, you hear me? If I die I’m… I’m gonna get you!”

Stumbling over himself, he retreated back to his desk, sneaking looks at the one who had cursed him so viciously.

The room was oddly silent.

Everyone had heard, but as was the way things were, no one reacted.

But now, something different had happened.

Raven lowered her leg, marching back to her seat in the corner, throwing herself into it.

She stared at her hoof.

She didn’t know what happened.

But whatever it was, it worked.

It had always worked, hadn’t it?

It had always been real.

Raven held her hoof out, balancing a baseball at the end of her hoof, eyeing the six containers that were stacked up in a pyramid at the far end of the booth that proclaimed, in large red letters:

The booth owner, complete with crook and straw boater, stood grinning at Raven’s third attempt.

As colourful as the red-and-white striped tent was, and as attractive as all the prizes lining the inside were, it did nothing for the difficulty of the game itself, and Raven’s inability to knock down six small metal cans.

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face, as she stuck her tongue out in concentration. She lined the ball up against her outstretched leg and…

“Try again?” The owner asked, grinning.

“The… the tide patterns of the invisible planet…” Raven massaged her temples. “Interfering with… my abilities!”

“Step aside,” Maud said.

“Whuza?” Raven peeped.

“Step aside,” Maud repeated, stepping up to the counter. “We used to play this down on the farm with milk canisters.”

“I… I believe you mean milk jars…”

“No,” Maud said, tossing three bits onto the counter. “I said it right.”

She picked up a ball.

“Hey,” Maud said to the owner. “I’m not paying for the tent, okay?”

“I’m sorry, young lady?” The tent owner replied.

A rush of wind that came from the evanescent gates of the underworld blew past Raven’s face and lifted the stall-stallion’s hat clean off his head.

“Huh. Was always bad at aiming,” Maud said.

“M-my tent!” the owner cried.

A large tear was now present in the canvas, all the way at the back of the booth.

“W-what…” Raven muttered.

“Don’t worry. It’ll probably land in Ponyville,” Maud said, picking up another ball.

“H-hey! Wait!” The owner said, holding his crook in front of Maud. “No! Uh… take any prize! Any prize! On the house!”

“That wouldn’t be honest.” Maud pushed the crook away.

The owner could barely resist.

With a screeching kerrang, like the sound of a gong being broken in half by lightning, the baseball flew the other way, high above the heads of the gawking Raven, disappearing over Mount Canterlot and presumably interrupting Princess Celestia’s evening tea.

The owner blinked.

There was one single can – the center one – that had left its brothers and sisters and now lay on the ground, completely caved in.

A slight wisp of smoke rose from its surface.

“M-m-my lady! My cans! My tent! Please! Stop! I beg of you! Take a prize! Y-you win!”

“Mmm, but I paid for three balls,” Maud said, readying the final projectile.

In desperation, the owner turned to Raven. “What do you want? Please! Get your friend to stop! What do you want? Anything! Any prize!”

Maud lowered the ball, watching the proceedings around her in silence.

“I… the...that one!” Raven pointed at the small section of premium special gifts that no one ever won.

“Here! Take it!” The owner grabbed the box and shoved it into Raven’s face. “Take it and go!”

“Yeeee!” Raven squealed, holding the box high above her head. “M-Maud! You… you have performed well! We… Let us retire into the night!”

Maud stepped aside and held a leg out to the owner. “Fine. But you owe me one bit back for this last throw.”

The owner was more than pleased to drop a coin into her outstretched hoof.

“Yeah!” Raven shook her hoof at the owner, grinning devilishly. “I have imbibed her with the powers of the dark side of the moon, the source of all strength! You finally rue the day you made your games challenging!”

Maud allowed herself to be dragged off by the leg, as Raven pranced, gleefully, chortling all the way down the street.

Past the other games of ring-toss and bowls they went, past the snack stands of salt-water taffy and cotton candy, past the lights and noise and crowd they wound and wove, a lightness upon Raven’s voice and in her heart.

It was fun.

She was having fun.

“That was, like, totally amazing,” Raven said, as they finally came to a stop in front of a corn corn dog hutch. “How… how did you do it?”

Maud simply stated the truth. “Dark side of the moon, right?”

“Oh… oh yeah. Right,” Raven muttered, her smile weakening. “But… no. Yeah. I’m glad, dark one, that you were able to channel your powers so magnificently!”

“Yeah.”

“Although, I do feel quite… piteous for that poor mortal pony!”

“Don’t be. He was cheating.”

“C-cheating? He… meant to cast the veil of blindness over our eyes?”

“Yeah. Sort of. Some of the cans were weighted down. Others were glued together. I was watching. I can tell.”

“You… you have a third eye?”

“Sure. Why not.”

“Ooooh…” Raven uttered. “That is most impressive.”

“What did you get?”

“What?”

“The prize you chose.” Maud moved her head to point at the box. “What is it?”

“Oh, this? This is for my… magic. Just like your rocks. I have my own… congregation of trammels.”

The box floated over.

Behind clear plastic and bright art, a small pony figurine lay inside, complete with an over-elaborate dress and accessories. Scrawled across the top were the words ‘Steel Steed Six! Omega: The Princess Chronicles’ along with a bunch of characters that Maud didn’t quite know how to read.

“It’s an action figure?” Maud asked, her eyes running down the package.

“No! These are not mere action figures!” Raven cried out. “They are… uh… they are the lost fragments of my soul! Once all are brought together, then will my powers truly be realized!”

“I see. One of your hobbies. So, this is one of these Neighponese things.”

“It comes from a secret dark land, a place of mystery and wonder that no pony hooves have touched!”

“Of course. Is this new? I’m afraid I only watch the geology channel.”

“It has come from ages past! It has crossed many years of time and space on a grand journey where its fruits are only now being consumed by the masses!”

“Cute. Well, not much for me. I’m happy you got something. I got something nice too.” Maud patted her pocket. “So I guess the night was pretty good.”

“Yes, it was a most fortunate night.”

“A fortunate night.”

Maud trotted a few more steps away from the stand and off to the edge of the walk, where the fraudulent sea was still in plain view.

The night certainly had been fortunate.

Raven quickly caught up from behind.

“So, where to now, golem queen?” Raven grinned.

“Mmm.” Maud said, continuing to stare out at the night, her face like stone.

“G-golem? Maud?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking.”

“What… what thoughts befuddle you?”

“Tonight.”

It was a sort of chilly air that came down.

Once more, the lining of the planets spoke nothing but misfortune for her, as she had predicted, as she now knew was true. Her predictions were never wrong. Her charts were never wrong.

Her face, turning impassive, kept on a smile that was as fake as the beach was.

It looked pretty, but could never compare to the real thing.

It was empty. Shallow at all points. And whatever emotions it might contain spilled away only to disappear as fog in the swirling zephyrs.

“I see,” she said.

“Yeah. Sorry. I have to be frank, though. I’m just a frank sort of pony,” Maud continued. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I had a great time. I think. But…”

Raven burst out laughing, cackling at the moon.

Maud raised an eyebrow.

“You simply can not keep up with me!” Raven chortled. “I have beaten you, earth-witch! I am the victor, and of course, now, you run away! I expect nothing less!”

“Oh, no. It really isn’t that,” Maud said.

The stars, thankfully, made no comment as they hung in the skies above. They simply watched and gazed and judged in all their brilliance, like a thousand eyes that looked on at things that were too insignificant for them to truly care about.

Raven stopped laughing.

“Like I said,” Maud went on. “I’m quite used to such behaviour. My sister’s quite the character. And I do love her dearly for it. I am quite used to role-play, as well, whether you choose to believe me or not. My sister says I play quite the good landscape. Like a bush. Or a tree. I’m quite partial to rocks.

“But when I agreed to come on this date, my sister assured me that I would meet someone that I might get to like.”

Overhead, the clouds made their way across the moon; night wisps lay silk over the umbrous tones that played above.

“But I haven’t met her yet.”

Maud turned to Raven. The complete lack of countenance in her face made it better in some ways and worse in others.

“You seem like a nice girl. You know, the few times you actually were having fun enough to show yourself. But there’s this thing you do. I’m not sure I care for it in the way you’re doing it. There’s nothing wrong with it. Or who you are for it. But you don’t seem to know when to let things be.”

Maud stepped lightly, turning her body.

“And I’m sure that there’s a reason for it. But I’m not sure if you’re willing to say that yet. Well. It’s been interesting. But I think I’m going to go home now. Thank you for everything.”

Maud left.

And everything returned to how it had always been.

The floorboards told her who was coming, but she didn’t care.

There was a knock on the door, but she didn’t answer.

A face peeked around the door, but she ignored it.

Sunshine Smiles apologized.

Raven looked up from her bed.

“I’m really sorry, sis,” Sunshine said. “I… I didn’t mean to be so harsh the other day.”

Raven sniffed, indignantly.

“I just… look. Sis? Please. I need to… I really want to try. So. I mean… like… hear me out, okay? Just listen. Please.”

Raven fell back down over her pillows. She hadn’t the heart to do much of anything. The invitation still lay nearby, un-disposed. A great anxiety gripped her by the heart. All she could do was listen.

“I know… I know school really did a number on you. I know how things are. I know you’re different. So different. And I know things are super unfair. I know… I wish you could see how things are from my point of view, and I wish I could show this to you.”

Sunshine scuffed her hooves on the carpet.

“Tomorrow… if you decide to go… it’s gonna be a good chance to, you know, try to do something else. We aren’t children any more. School can be real dungbombs, but… this mare you’re meeting tomorrow isn’t going to be a child either. She’s gonna be nice. Adults are nice. But you’re going to have to be nice in return, you know?”

Sunshine choked out a laugh, something that was born from the absurdity of it all yet mixed with something very serious.

“I… I think you’re a great pony. I really do. I wish so hard that you’d said something about the bullies in your class back then. I wish so hard that you’d just told me or mom or dad about everything. But it’s never too late to leave it behind. So, I’m going to tell you what to do.

“Tomorrow, you’re gonna get nervous. Okay? You’re gonna get scared, and you’re gonna start to… make up a world that feels great and feels safe. I don’t think you should try to stop that. But… I think… I think there’s gonna be a time when you know – and I can’t tell you when – but you’re just gonna know that things aren’t really going great.

“And normally… when that happens… you kinda get a bit more… you know. But tomorrow’s gonna be different, okay? Because when that thing happens, I want you to remember this, and I want you to try this.”

Sunshine closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“You have to turn the other way. You have to argue with yourself. You have to ignore that voice inside you that says ‘oh, things are exactly as I expected’, and you have to do something you never did before. You have to do the opposite of what you’d normally do, because… well… there’s nothing to lose, right? I mean, by that time, it’s pretty much the end of it if you do the same thing, and if you do something else, maybe… maybe things will change.

“Maybe they won’t, but… there’s always a chance. So please. For me. For yourself. For everything. I want you to remember these words. At the very end, I want you to take that leap and no matter how uncomfortable you are, just try to be honest. It’ll feel… good. I promise. And if it doesn’t work out, you can come talk to me again, and I’ll… I’ll find something else. I’ll spend as long as it’ll take.”

Sunshine scratched the back of her head.

“Uh… alright. Sorry, sis. I kinda took up a bit of your time, there, huh?” she giggled a bit, awkwardly. “A-anyway.”

Raven’s eyes edged to the side as her sister started for the door.

“So… I hope things go well. And I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. For everything. And I love you, sis. I’ll always be here for you, okay? It’s important to have friends. It’s important to be yourself. I want my sister to be happy. That’s all… that’s all I want. Okay. Love you.”

The door slammed shut.

Raven snuffled into her pillow.

Out of the corner of her eye, she looked upon where the invitation lay on her bed, near the silky wisps of her mane as it creeped over the duvet.

She stared at it, and didn’t stop staring for a while.

“Maud!” Raven cried out, as she ran up to her. “Maud!”

“Hm?” Maud turned around, stopping in her tracks. “Raven.”

“Maud!” Raven wheezed, stopping to catch her breath. “Maud!”

“Yes, that’s my name. Wha–”

“N-no! Shut up!” Raven cried, as she lowered her head.

Maud gently closed her mouth.

“M-my name is Moonlight Raven. I live with my sister and parents in Canterlot. I make costume jewelry for sale at the fair! I sometimes work at my sister’s day-care center, and I’m saving up money to enroll in Luna’s Night-Magic course, where I hope to become a royal enchantress in the future! My hobbies are crafts and Magical Mare Steel Steed Six!

“I like eating good food and I wish I had more friends, because I don’t really have many. I… I make stuff up because… because I’m scared. Because I’m scared of things and I don’t know why I’m scared of them sometimes but my sister told me yesterday to do this and now I’m doing this and I don’t even know what I’m doing arrrrrgh!”

Raven pushed her hooves through her mane.

“I’m freaking out right now and I don’t even know what to do, but you said… you said you didn’t get to see the real me, and fine! This is the real me, okay? I’m a weird freak who has to pretend just to talk to others!”

Raven gasped, her face dampening with tears.

“So there! Now you have a different reason to walk away, but I guess you know the truth now! So… whatever! Sorry for the night, and I’m sorry for wasting your time!”

Raven spun on her heels, tromping away.

There was a feeling in her chest. It was a new feeling, a fresh feeling. It was a feeling that lifted stuff away from the pit of her stomach, and although it was as heavy as it always was, it was a good kind of heavy, like how you wanted a hearth’s warming present to feel like.

She was crying, but she didn’t care why.

But what was done was done. And everything was over.

At least her sister was right about one thing. It kinda felt… good. In a way. In a sort of strange, freeing sense. It was the kind of way that –

“Hey!”

The voice cut Raven’s thoughts short.

“Hey!” Maud called again.

Raven turned around. “W-who, me?”

“Where’s your prize?” Maud asked.

“My…”

“Your prize. You know. The action figure that isn’t an action figure.”

“O-oh. I… I left it back there, somewhere,” Raven looked into the darkness of the street. “I think.”

“Let’s go find it,” Maud said, quickly catching up and walking past.

Almost as if Raven were drawn into Maud’s pace, she started to walk alongside her as well, like a mouse following a piper.

“It wouldn’t do if you lost it,” Maud said to the dazed Raven. “Then we’d have to come back again tomorrow and play for it again.”

“I…” Raven let herself trail off.

“You should say what you want to say. I always do,” Maud said as they continued walking back to the boardwalk.

Raven swallowed. “What… what are we doing?”

“I said, didn’t I?” Maud responded. “I wanted to meet Moonlight Raven. It seems like she finally arrived. A bit late, but I’m patient.”

“But… all of everything…”

“Yes. You’re a mare of extremes. But I have practice with that.”

“I…”

“I’m patient.”

“But…”

Maud stopped in her tracks, not losing focus from her goal. “Do you know why Smoke-quartz is so rare?”

Raven shook her head.

“Because on the outside, it’s a rock. Brown. Craggy. Interesting. But not the truth. Ponies pass it by because they don’t know. But I know better. I’d like to find out what’s inside of you.”

“In...inside of me?”

“Metaphorically speaking.”

Raven nodded.

“I don’t know how it’s going to go. But it certainly can’t be worse than your stand-in. And I can tell you this much,” Maud said, staring down the street. Still, even now, there was not a single trace of emotion on her face. Her words, however, said more than enough. “I’m quite fond of those stones which hide themselves away. They tend to shine a bit brighter.”

Maud’s eyes flicked to her companion for the briefest of moments.

“Look at me,” she intoned with the exact pitch of a washing machine. “I’m practically spilling my heart, here.”

And just as suddenly as she had stopped, Maud started moving again, like a train with its own mind. And she spoke with a single-minded forwardness that didn’t allow for any misapprehensions.

“So, are you coming?”

Moonlight Raven steeled herself with a fortifying breath.

The fires on the 39th level of the Quazmar dimension were hot. Hotter than it ever was before. Hotter than anything that anyone could have ever believed. Hotter, even, than Turgia.

Every enemy that Raven had fought; every trial that Raven had gone through; every adventure and every power she utilized, it was all there, floating about in the magma.

On that rock – the seven-headed beast of the Pearl Rivers.

On that one – the amulet of Duplious.

And yet on another – a swirling black mass of ink that swallowed everything in its path with tentacles of pure ether.

Thousands of rocks bobbed and weaved down a red and black landscape of crags and rocks and ash, each holding another beast, artifact, or concept.

Raven lorded over this realm. It was all three a jail, a trophy room, and a weapons closet of sorts. Everything she needed or would need was at her hooftips. She stood at the edge of a volcano that spewed eternal lava into the molten rivers below.

And it was good.

Raven smiled as she surveyed all she watched over.

On any other day, she would be debating what fantastic adventure she should pluck out next, something to simply conquer in her own way only to return to this world of heat and flame.

But today, today was something slightly different.

In big bold letters painted over wood, the word ‘LIBERTATUM’ had been splashed onto a door. It was a door that had always been there, sticking straight out at the back of the volcano, but one that Raven had never approached. It had a handle only on one side. and was too tough to break down nor was there any way to peek through.

But today, Raven found a key.

With an unsteady hoof, Raven shoved the key into the lock and turned.

She couldn’t help but feel her heart leap all over her chest, like a lion untamed. Part of her mind screamed at her to stop, simply because this realm was far safer. And yet, there was a part of her who needed to know what was beyond.

With a generous yank, Raven threw the door open, letting a brilliant light envelop her. A million stars whizzed by, bouncing off her frame as they poured forth from the portal. The brightness only grew the more she stared into the vast infinite depth of the other realm, and swirling within were the shadows of possibility and potential.

Raven let out a breath.

It was exactly as she expected.

Half frightening, half beautiful, but finally, she was allowed a glimpse of what others saw all along.

With her senses going wild in an unabated excitement, she put her hoof through, feeling the warm light encircle her hoof like another pony was holding it tightly against her chest.

And with finality, she called out.

“I’m coming!” she yelled, with a smile. A good, honest smile.

And she stepped through.

Into a new world.

Into a new adventure.

Into a new fantasy.

And she let the door shut behind her forever.

Author's Notes:

My very humble thanks to:
Cerulean Voice - Birthmother of the cerebral horde, father of All there is. (Original Prompt)
Dinoguy1000 - Slothslave of the voracious distractbird flock, paradigm of the slugoff fields. (Editor)
Meridian Prime - The Giant-Eyed one; the Thing That Looks; The Great Watcher. (Editor)
Themaskedferret - Unholy minion of the 8th level of Dooklet, wielder of the spear of Feridunus. (Guest Pre-reader)
Crack Javelin - 3rd Troubadour of the army of Brains; He Who Keeps The Jars. (Pre-reader)
DannyJ - Stupid Brit. (Description help)

This coven would be uncircled without them.

And a very special thanks to the armies of darkness -- you -- for reading.