The moon seemed particularly bright that dusk. It's full luminescent glow cast the street in an eerie, blue tinge. Shadows seemed just a shade darker tonight. Tonight, tempers flared. Tonight, brewing storms were more malevolent. And tonight, Princess Celestia couldn't help but feel some sorrow.

It had been nearly a year since she had made the choice to banish her sister into the moon. The guilt still had not subsided. The torment at her failure—what had she done to cause things to go so wrong?—had never left her in all these days. She didn't know.

She sighed, watching the snakes of white breath meeting the cold wintry air. Even her lonely promenades, the times when she could have a moment alone after doing double-duty celestial-body raising, brang her less relief each night. She found herself flying farther from Canterlot each night.

The particular town she was in (Did it even have a name? She couldn't recall ever seeing any sign of it on any of the royal cartographer's maps.) was at least an hour's flight from her home. It was rather measly. It had only the one street, surrounded by a market place with some temple under construction farther along, near the center of the town. The ponies here must turn in rather early, for not a light was glowing when she arrived a few hours after the setting of the sun.

"M'Lady?"

Celestia nearly jumped out of her own skin.

"Who's that? One of my little ponies?" She turned about, coming breast-to-snout with a small, aged mare. The mare shivered and took a step back.

"Ragamuffin come tell you of them lunes, she does. They don't like m'Lady," said she, distraught.

Celestia frowned, wearily glancing around. Highly unorthodox though it was, she decided to hear this poor denizen out.

"Ragamuffin, was it? What do you mean by this? Who are these 'lunes'?"

The mare took a breath. Her lip quivered, and she pawed at the cobblestone walk, glancing down at the Princess's hooves.

"They is Her supporters, m'Lady. They want to kill m'Lady and bring back the Nightmares." Her eyes widened, as if to say You must believe me.

Celestia thought herself a capable royal and knew the Elements and runes which sealed away her sister were not easily undone. No, it would take a power far superior to her own, though not even the matriarch of her school was able to surpass her. Justifiably, then, Celestia did not imagine she could be in much danger.

"My Little Pony, I assure you, there is no need for alarm. No harm will come to me." She placed a hoof on the little creature's shoulder. "Get some rest and don't worry about the affairs of a Princess."

These words did little to lessen Ragamuffin's fears. Nevertheless, she hung her head and turned away.



The sun rose at her behest again the next morning. She gave a slight smile as her shining light slid up the horizon, burning away the last dregs of early morn. And with her work completed, she turned around to return to her room. In front of her stood a captain of the guard.

"Princess, there is something you must attend to in the dungeons," he said curtly.

Though surprised, she nodded and followed the pegasus down the area of the castle which she preferred to leave forgotten or—at the very least—at the farthest boundaries of her memory. The stone walls became darker and plainer the farther they descended, until even the bright torches which now lined the corridors and flights of stairs only illuminated the form of her guard and the unsure steps of her hooves.

Before she could begin contemplating what it was that needed her attention, the guard stopped. They were in the dungeon now, in front of a cell. Inside sat a beige earth pony. His white hair was unkempt, and the traces of age were already apparent around his dull, dish-water eyes.

"This old boy was found creeping around Palace grounds. A troop detained him, but he insists on seeing Your Majesty. He says you know him." The guard turned to the incarcerated pony. "Hey, you! Princess Celestia will now hear your case. Speak quickly, and don't try any funny business."

Upon hearing the name of the princess, the creature stirred, a small spark of recognition burning beneath his eyes. He turned to Celestia, something akin to a smile forming on his lips. He approached, but was barred from coming further by an iron door.

"I would like to know, Citizen, why you were snooping around my castle." Quiet rage befitting a sun goddess alighted her eyes.

A sad expression befitting a dog struck by a stone dawned on the other.

"Do… do you not remember me?" He placed a hoof on the bars. "I—" He looked up at her, pleading. "I'm Thimbleweed."

Taken aback, the princess studied Thimbleweed. There was something faintly familiar about his features. His name… his name… his name uprooted some long-lost memory. Her eyes widened.

"I— You—" She looked over at the guard. "Prepare an interrogation room. I would like to speak to this pony privately. And assemble a squadron. There is a pony I would like brought in for questioning."

---

"We order, on the land claim of McMuffins vs. the town of Fillydelphia, that the value of all the chicken coups destroyed on Miss McMuffins's land be repaid in full, and that a parcel of land two-fifths the value of her residence be bought and bequeathed to her by the Regent of the district where her land lies." Two large stallions rung a gong. Verdict: final.

A gray pegasus with blond hair and a raining cloud Cutie Mark smiled eagerly, barely containing a cheer. Beside her, though fidgety and fraught with a nervous tick of the hooves, a youthful beige stallion mirrored her excited emotions.

"You are dismissed," finished Princess Luna. The court began to loiter out. One, however, stayed behind.

"Your Majesties," the beige pony began. He smiled slightly, barely managing to get out what he was trying to say. "I hope you don't take offense to my intrusion, but I would, well… I would like to…"

"You would like what? There are no inhibitions among Us, Young One. The Day sees all your hopes and the Night sees all your dreams."

At Luna's words, the stallion twitched uncomfortably, averting his eyes and placing his tail between his legs.

"My name is… is Thimbleweed the Wistful."

The pony paused.

Celestia glanced over at Luna. While her sister's statement regarding "hopes" and "dreams" might have been true, Celestia could only experience an ambiguous kind of ecstatic enthusiasm. Her sister, on the other hand, had taken to a far more complex form of magic. Seeking to extend her rule over the night, she had found a way to enter into unsuspecting ponies' dreams. It was a frightful prospect, even to the Celestial Princess.

"I represented the fair mare McMuffins, as you saw, but that is not what I come before you today to say."

Celestia raised an eyebrow. "And what is it that you come before Us today to say?" She felt something tap her side.

"Oh, do be patient, Dear. The lad might have something of import to say." Luna motioned for the stallion Thimbleweed to continue.

"I wish neither of you to take any offense, but it has become clear to me that forestalling this moment will lead to no more than my own destruction." Celestia frowned at this choice of words. "Therefore, with your permission, I would like to ask if there is an eventide in which Your Majesty, the Princess Luna, would have me."

Celestia took a moment to comprehend what the stallion was saying. Before she could say something, however, Luna responded.

"Well, I see." She smiled in an alarmingly copacetic manner. "Well, I suppose I could talk to you this evening." The stallion smiled, and Celestia felt the bubbly froth of his hope churning around her stomach. Unsure of her sisters intent, she allowed Thimbleweed to trot off, content with his date.

"What, pray tell, do you think you're doing?" inquired she. "What use have you for the heart of a lawyer, of all things?"

"Oh, Sister, he's really quite the creative type. Resourceful, too. Poor lad's a lonely soul, though." Her gaze settled on nothing in particular, in the way that you'd think that that nothing was the most important nothing she'd ever seen.

Celestia just looked at her sister, unsure of what to say.

"I tell them things, sometimes. It's quite amazing, really, what one can do when another clears away those pesky reservations.

"Besides, he thinks my bum is cute."

Celestia was unsure what to say to this.

"You can't—" She shook her head. "This is highly improper, Sister!" Celestia put a hoof to Luna's shoulder. "Please, tell me what you told that pony."

Luna looked down and took a breath.

"Nothing, nothing really. I just…" To Celestia's surprise, the Princess of the Night flushed deeply, almost turning a shade of pinkish violet.

No mare should be gallivanting around the sanctity of our deepest fantasies, thought Celestia.

---

"Why are you here?" she asked.

The pony remained silent.

"Answer me or the next brand will be on your tongue!" she snarled, slamming a foreleg on the table.

The earth gulped. "Don't you understand, Ma'am? What would you do if She never left your dreams? They said… they said that…" He looked away.

"What would you do if you were a frail, old creature like myself and, every night, the nightmares came? And, each night, they hurt you? And, before you wake, they whispered terrible things to you?"

He was sobbing now.

"Enough. I've heard enough. Take him away. There is no more to be learned from this pony." The Inquisitor motioned for the guards to either side of her to restrain Thimbleweed and drag him back to his cell.

"She'll return! Don't you hear me? She'll return! I see it in my dreams! She's coming back! You're all going to die! Darkness will fall again! Don't— you— see—?"

His ravings became fainter and fainter until she could hear him no longer.

Nothing of any pertinence had been forthcoming.

"Tell Her Majesty that the guy's a lune," she whispered, long after the guards had gone.



Celestia looked down at the ragged cloak, weary of its ancient and powerful magic. She lifted it.

Her guards had been unable to find the mysterious mare. Celestia's decidedly lacking description certainly didn't help matters. Now, if she was to find anything, this was the way to do it. The only way.

She dawned the cloak, and beheld something, the gentle dozing of a thousand dreamers, the nightly air clawing all around her, an assault of every experience upon her senses. Unsure of whether to be astonished or afraid, she took a step forward.

The dream world pulsed and vibrated, shimmering and shattering and forming back once again. Through the chaos, she sought one pony. She attempted to see as Luna saw, the individual among the throng.

She indeed found what she was looking for, eventually. Thimbleweed, cowering there in the void, a speck on the expanse of imagination. She approached, faltering slightly as she drew closer. The environment became harsher, and the scene more nightmarish. She could feel Her presence here, still lingering.

"My Little Pony," she called. He was far more sickly-looking here than in person. "What ails you? How may I help?" A wave of emotion emanated from the hunched form.

Anger. Pure, untempered malice.

"What can you do?!" He bolted to his feet. "You can start by dying and plummeting straight to Tartarus! Or killing me before you do!" The earth pony dashed to her, flinging punches and bucks. She stared at him, surprised more than anything at the pony's failing attempts to do her harm. "Do you know—?" He stopped.

"DO YOU FUCKING CARE?!" His cheeks were awash with tears. She saw a glint between his teeth. A knife—

Where had that come fr—?

He tackled her, embedding the knife in her neck. The world flashed black.

She opened her eyes. Ugh…

She could feel a pain where the blade had been, but there was no wound she could see. Dark and powerful magic indeed. She knew now what she must do.



"It was just a dream! A fantasy! I am not at fault…" All the eyes of Canterlot and the Closerlands were trained on the scaffold holding Thimbleweed the Wistful. "Please… I beg of thee." A large brown stallion wearing a black mask ascended the scaffold.

"For attempted murder and conspiracy to commit the murder of a princess," began she. The masked stallion placed a rope around his neck.

The pony quieted down a bit. Still, he glared at the Ward of Day. "Know that I do not fear death, My Liege. I embrace this fate. But I will not have my name sullied in the annals of your history. Even if I die today, some morrow anew my name will be cleared!"

"Thimbleweed the Wistful has been sentence to summary execution."

Convinced that the pony was given sufficient time to contemplate his own demise, the masked pony shoved him unceremoniously off the edge of the scaffold.

"Luna—"

Even Celestia flinched with a kind of sickened anguish as she heard this last word, this last breath, shattered by the snap of the rope.

At the edge of the crowd stood a small, aged mare, smiling devilishly.