It had been five days since the jelly incident, as it was being called in the palace. Slimy Snake- -or now “Buttery Snake”, as he was calling himself, had not been seen since he left with Discord, but Luna had done her best to make amends to his family. She had visited them in person, and, much to her surpise, found that they were rather unsympathetic to their son’s plight. His family apparently consisted of self-proclaimed “warrior poets”, and having a lawyer as a son was their greatest shame. Snakes father had even gone so far as to simply shrug and state, bluntly, “he should have ducked”.

The situation with Cavern Melody had gone much better. At first, it had been difficult to confront her, but Luna knew that it was her duty, both as a royal and as Cavern Melody’s friend. Cavern Melody, of course, already knew that Luna was aware; as the saying went, chiropteran ponies had big ears, and she had heard the conversation between the two sisters through the door.

Both Cavern Melody and Nightwatcher were rather strict traditionalists. Their families, it seemed, stretched as far back as Luna’s original reign, and some had even continued to serve her as Nightmare Moon, a thought that only slightly disturbed her. As with their people’s tradition, though, the pair had entered into a “private marriage”, or a contract between individuals, until the conception of their firstborn, at which a “public marriage”, or a contract with society, would be generated. As Celestia had anticipated, Cavern Melody had asked Luna to officiate the marriage, and of course Luna had accepted.

Luna was overjoyed but, in a way, somewhat jealous. Even though she had lived nearly pony lifetimes, she had never found her special somepony, and in all that time neither her nor her sister had given birth to a foal. She found that odd, but with the stresses and dangers of royal life, doing so was probably inadvisable.

And so, Luna had been happy for the first three of those five days. The rigors of her royal schedule and her duties merged with the happiness of living vicariously through Cavern Melody, and she managed to keep the darkness in her mind contained. In time, though, it had begun to seep through.

It had begun when she was examining the dreams of her subjects. It was normally relatively easy for her; she could project herself into the minds of any of those who slept beneath her moon and walk among their visions. A skill that had once been used to track dissidents was now put to use helping her subjects, and giving advice. In the past several nights, though, that had changed.

The sensation was difficult to describe. It was something, she decided, like swimming. Normally dreamwalking was akin to wading in the surf on a calm, warm day, often as friends and friendly faces surrounded her. In the past days, however, it instead felt like being stranded in a raging sea, with storms and darkness surrounding her, the waves trying to pull her under, where vast creatures of darkness waited for her.

In their minds, she had not only seen their dreams, but their thoughts, their memories. She had come to understand that there was good in even the most desperately evil ponies, but now she was beginning to understand that there was evil in even the best of ponies. There were thoughts of destruction and death, images of violence and destruction, swirling torrents of rage and fear. She could feel them all, intermixing and merging with the good parts, pouring out of so many ponies. Even during the day, she heard the whispering, and saw shadows moving, gathering in the corners of places, watching.

Her own memories had seemed to begin restoring themselves. She remembered elements of her own life that she strived to forget- -of being Nightmare Moon and fighting a brutal war to plunge Equestria into eternal night, but also of before, during the early transitional period of her and her sister’s rule, when some had refused to submit to the new royalty and met with horrific ends.

The worst, though, were the fragmented visions of before she was a god. There were fragments and images, and splashes of color and pain that almost formed memories, but she could not remember completely, nor did she want to. The fragments themselves were painful enough. The clearest of them was one of a bright but frozen light, and an earlier one of something dangerous approaching her face that she could not escape.

The day earlier, her exhaustion and pain had increased to the point where, begrudgingly, she had asked her elder sister to take on the raising and lowering of the moon, at least for a few days while Luna rested. Celestia had been perfectly understanding, perhaps even too much so. Luna knew quite well that while Celestia could effortlessly handle both spheres, she was the only princess that could do so.

So, in the darkness of her own night, Luna lay in her bed. Sleep eluded her, though. She instead sat staring at the starry mural on her ceiling, listening. There were no real sounds, aside from the shifts of the castle and the pipes in the depths of the caverns below; what she instead listened for was thoughts.

Outside her door, she could sense Nightwatcher. He was remaining stoic and composed, as was his duty, retaining the veneer of strength that his position and occupation demanded. Inside, though, as much as he tried to suppress it, he was overjoyed at the thought of the wedding, and at the birth of his son or daughter. Simultaneously, though, he was terrified that he would be as distant and cold as his own father was.

Further out, Luna could sense other chiropterans, as well as the ponies above. She sensed the cooks, one of them conflicted at knowing the honor of working at the castle but torn between it and starting his own restaurant chain, and the servants, each of them working almost robotically as they reflected on their spouses and children, or on thoughts of the upcoming issue of their favorite books.

Luna even sensed her sister’s guards, the white and gray stallions with perfectly sculpted bodies that she kept for her “defense”. Some were single-minded, focused only on their duties, but others wondered if what they were doing was really worthwhile; several were even plotting against their fellows for promotions, hoping to rise toward the rank that had once been held by Shining Armor.

As Luna’s mind wandered between the various guards, she suddenly noticed something strange. There was a mind that she did not recognize moving amongst them. Unlike the guards, it moved strangely, starting and stopping suddenly, passing past the guards rapidly without them seeming to notice. It felt strange somehow; the outside of it, so to speak, was something like finding a shard of glass against a bed of river stones.

Curious, Luna focused into it. Almost instantly, she cried out in pain and clutched her head. Her body broke out into cold sweat that drenched her satin sheets, and she started to convulse.

That mind was far deeper than she had expected, and far more terrible. It was impossibly old, holding what may once have been the heart of a hero. Sometime long ago, though, it had become twisted and corrupted, broken and rebuilt. Inside it were the screams of countless millions and visions of fiery death; Luna could see each of their faces as they released their final cries. The mind was filled with a horrible desire to consume, to eat, to destroy, to reach its fill of lifeblood, but even that was not the worst. Inside it, there was a terrible burden, a tremendous shame, a weight that no mortal was meant to bear.

Something about that mind shifted inside her own. The memory of something getting near her that she could not escape suddenly clarified into horrible detail: she saw a masked pony above her, a unicorn, a blade held in his magic, lowering it toward her eyes as she struggled but could not escape.

“No,” she whispered. “No, not my eyes. Please stop. Stop the screaming…the children, the destruction, the pain…” Another image flashed into her mind, one that was surely not a memory of hers, of a structure of impossible vastness resembling a tree of crystal, surrounded by horrible spheres that reflected things that could not be reflected.

“Stop,” said a distant voice, and the memories faded. Luna shivered, her hairless blue body saturated with sweat and tears. She sat up and looked around the room. There was nothing there but shadows, but shadows that somehow seemed to move.

“Who is there?” she said. She ignited her horn, but instead of light, only darkness came from it, making the shadows deeper and more lively.

She heard whispers. Not ones confined to her mind, this time, but seemingly real ones. They bounded around the room like laughter, passing between the shadows and darkness. They then resolved themselves into words.

“These memories,” said a female voice. It was calm, but also cold and had a tone that could be construed as either caring or patronizing. “They are not meant for you.”

“They are…my memories.”

“Nevertheless,” said the whispers, resolving into a single voice with no apparent location. “They are not meant for you.”

“Who are you?” demanded Luna.

“I am who I have always been,” replied the darkness. “Who I was before you had that horn. I was there, dwelling within your mother, and her mother, and her mother’s mother. I am ancient, and eternal…though perhaps not as ancient as him.”

“Who? I don’t understand!” Luna put her hoofs to her ears, but it could not block out the voices. They remained as nearly silent whispers, but became deafening.

“It has been too long,” they said. “You, the end of my line, an immortal of flesh to mine of darkness. And yet, we are phases of the same being.”

“Who are you?!” screamed Luna to the darkness.

“I am the one who holds those dark memories. I am the reason you and your ‘sister’ were exiled. I was the one who once took into myself your hate and rage and jealousy, because of us, I am strong enough to bear the pain for the two of us…”

“Show yourself!”

From the darkness, a shape slowly emerged. It stretched, molding itself from the nothingness. Then, when it nearly had a form, a pair of bright turquoise eyes flashed open. Eyes with vertical slits for pupils.

“No!” cried Luna, backing away as the eyes approached. She could feel them staring, and feel the darkness reaching into her, tearing at her soul. “No! NO NO NO!”

Her horn flashed black, and then blue. She felt her body tingle and burn as she focused all of her magic into a single blast, and leveled it directly at the pair of eyes. With a scream of anger and fear, she unleashed it.

There was a sudden high-pitched cry, and Luna blinked. The room was not dark. There was no creature of blackness, no eyes of Nightmare Moon. She looked around, and saw that her chamber door was open, a narrow wedge of light coming through.

When she saw what it illuminated, Luna dropped to her knees in a silent scream. There, in a rapidly expanding pool of blood, was a small and shattered form with a familiar cutie mark attached to it- -a lump of flesh that had once been Cavern Melody.

“No,” sobbed Luna as she stood. She forced herself to move forward, but she could hardly look. “I didn’t mean…I couldn’t…no…”

The form twitched slightly, and coughed, releasing a mouthful of blood. She was still alive, but only barely. The magic had been uncontrolled and undirected; it had torn her body apart, burning and twisting it, and even as Luna watched, patches of her skin were slowly being reduced to ash by the remains of the magic.

“No,” said Luna. She rushed forward and took the remains of Cavern Melody into her arms. “I didn’t mean to. Hold on. You will survive this. I give you my word.”

Cavern Melody turned to Luna with what was left of her face. “To die by your hoof, and in your arms…is my greatest honor. Our greatest honor…” her one remaining eyelid began to flutter, and Luna could feel her growing weak.

She did not know what to do; Luna’s special talent was for moving the moon, and painting the night. She was not a doctor, and she doubted that she had enough magic remaining to undo what she had done. She was starting to panic, but could do nothing except shed silent tears.

“Move,” said a voice from behind her.

Luna turned to see one of the shadows that her return to reality had not dispelled start to move. What looked something like a dark blue stain that had been inching ever closer to her bed separated itself from the wall and gained increased form, becoming far more solid. It resolved itself into a tall but narrow horror.

“Get away from her!” cried Luna, holding the body toward her chest.

“I highly doubt I could hurt her worse,” said the creature, almost sarcastically. It continued to approach, but Luna did not resist. She had already felt the life depart from Cavern Melody. There was no point in protecting a corpse, even one of her own creation.

The creature stepped forward, and stretched one narrow hand over Cavern Melody. Its form somehow seemed to shift, as if it were growing thicker, and blue sparks erupted from its appendage. They initially ran between each other, sparks surrounding sparks, like some kind of cloth made of pure electricity. Then, slowly, they descended onto Cavern Melody.

The damage on the chiropteran pony’s body began to reverse. Tissues rebuilt themselves, bones knit and skin regrew; organs that were just barely visible retracted inward to their proper locations. Every bit of entropy and disorder that Luna’s magic had created began to reverse itself, the order of Cavern Melody’s form restoring.

As Luna watched, though, she also saw that the creature was suffering. Sparks erupted from its own body- -sparks that were both blue and shrouded with the darker blue flame of Luna’s own magic. Many of the wounds that it pulled from Cavern Melody appeared on itself, tearing its blue flesh, causing it to darken and liquefy, leaking a stinking necrotizing liquid from its body. Still it continued, though.

Color returned to Cavern Melody, and, suddenly, her red eyes flashed open. She turned her head and vomited a mixture of blood and bits of flesh, but then immediately took several deep breaths. The sparks around her body faded, and the creature moved to retract its hand, only for the appendage to rot and fall into the pool of blood below, liquefying and finally reducing to a fine powder that seemed to evaporate away.

“I have restored your assassin, and the unborn pony,” said the creature. Its voice sounded different, as though it were gurgling and profoundly strained. “She will regain consciousness…well, eventually.”

“Assassin? What are you talking about?”

The creature generated a new arm-appendage, and pointed at her flank, where her cutie mark was. It was a strange shape that Luna had never fully comprehended; a curved, silver item that she assumed was an instrument. “That insignia is a picture of a trihorn night-dance blade. It was a weapon designed to sever the spines of their targets from behind. I can only assume that ponies in this time use them as well.”

“Who are you?” said Luna, and suddenly she recognized it. The two triangles that it held for a face- -she had seen those, looming over the endless scenes of destruction and terror in the visions of the strange being that had moved unseen amongst the guards. “Why did you help her?”

“That doesn’t matter at this point,” said the creature. “To be honest, I originally…ow…came here to kill you.”

“Kill me?” said Luna. She did not understand.

“Yes, although I can’t now. I depleted my supply of Order…and that blast I just absorbed was enough to level a small city.” As he said it, his form distorted, causing him to collapse into liquid partially, revealing the fact that he had a small spiral horn in the center of his torso where a head should have been. Part of his body hemorrhaged onto the floor, and his skin was beginning to vaporize from the force of Luna’s magic.

“We have doctors,” said Luna. “We can help you.”

“No,” said the creature. “I am dying, but it is not the first time. Death never holds me for very long. I will survive. Before I go, though…I must ask a question.”

“What is it that you wish?”

“Were you the one who used the Core to become a god?”

Luna did not understand. She was not aware of how she had gained her abilities, or the time before.

“No,” she said. “I know not of the past. I awoke in this form, and have no memories of what I was before.”

“Then I am so sorry,” said the creature.

“For what?”

“For what has been done to you. For the cursed existence you have been given. The path of immortality…it was not meant for beings with hearts, who care, who love. I do not know what that creature of darkness was…but please consider its offer. If not, seek out a pony named Pinkie Pie, and ask her for my necklace. It will not stop the progression, but it will slow it.”

Luna recognized the name as one of Twilight Sparkle’s friends, a jolly party pony, but did nto understand what such an innocent creature would have to do with this horrible monstrosity. Her mind only focused on that question for a moment, though, and then turned to something far more important. “And I shall ask a question for you,” she said, trying to sound as royal as possible.

“I only have time for one. My plan is falling apart around me. And so am I, I suppose.” He gestured to the puddle of dying, burning tissue that he was rapidly being reduced to.

“Why did you save her?”

“Why?” said the creature, as if it did not now itself. It seemed to consider for a moment. “I suppose it is because I cannot bear to see somepony suffer.”

At that moment, the door to Luna’s chambers burst open and was flooded by light. There, surrounded by several guards, was her sister, ablaze with blinding solar light, to the point where her normally colored main had become a single stream of glowing, brilliant white.

“Get away from my sister!” she screamed, and leveled a blast far more powerful and far more concentrated than Luna’s at the creature.

Before the blast could impact it, Luna saw a skull disconnect from its body, still attached to a stem of blue viscera, with one of its eye sockets containing the insignia of two triangles. A bubble of green energy flashed around it and it vanished, just as Celestia’s beam vaporized the remainder of its body.