In the center of the moonlit span of Equestria stands a tall ridge of mountains stretching up into the star-strewn sky with a majesty that draws the eye like a magnet across the tall peaks and stunning expanses. From all of the land, the towers and spires of the capital city atop those peaks seem untouched by time or disaster, but that appearance is a lie only able to be disguised by the snow that covers the city and distance. No lights shine in the mighty buildings now as they did before, only the endless reflection of moonlight off ice and broken roof tiles, making the whole of the broken city lie peaceful and still. Even the slight tilt of the buildings can be excused as a trick of the light, or at least until the shattered stubs of towers can be seen where the shifting of the foundations of the city toppled them into the streets in shattered pieces of granite and limestone, now being covered by the drifting snow.

Amidst the fallen buildings and frozen gardens of a school, one tower still stands above all others, but a closer look shows that it has not escaped the destruction unscathed. What remains is is a fraction of its original magnificent height, now buttressed by the molten granite that flowed down its sides in frozen rivulets and clotted streams of dull brown. Despite the destruction, the top of the tower still contains the shattered remains of a room, burned by incredible power until the walls were left as reflective as glass by the crucible of power that swept it clean of life. Nothing remains of its original contents save four thin films of gold on the floor in front of a frozen lump of darkness the size of a young pony, now just as covered in snow and ice as the rest of the dead city.

The melted windows and sagging doors in the castle behind the tower are signs of the power that was unleashed just a few blocks away, but there is a difference here that exists in no other part of Equestria. Tracks in the endless snow and the shifting of doors show the touch of some creature who has passed this way since. Here, a painting on the wall has been burnt to ashes and there the charred remnants of armor have been moved, as if some wandering being wished to discover the fate of its wearer before moving onward on its journey.

The hoofprints in the snow grow closer together as they approach the center of the castle, winding through the wide snow-strewn corridors and icy stairs until they pass through the open doors of a huge room in which sits the Golden Throne of the Sun. From here, all of Equestria was once ruled by Princess Celestia, the Alicorn of the Sun and Moon, but in the cold moonlight that shines through the broken throne room windows, there is no sign of the beloved monarch. Instead, a second alicorn sits upon the throne with the same noble bearing and grace as her sister, only bearing a mane of flowing stars and a coat of the darkest black.

She does not move her armor-clad body in the snow that swirls around her hooves, nor does she speak a single word while sitting upon the throne and staring endlessly forward at the doors as if she were waiting for somepony to step through. Time has ceased to hold meaning in her eternal rest. The sister whom she waits for will never arrive, but that does not matter. All that matters is that the moon shines down upon her lands, and for that, the Nightmare is content.

The night shall indeed last forever.