Father Time has his way 1 [RGRE]

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>You hear the knock upon your chamber door.
>It was nice after years of service to still get woken up before dawn.
>Oh wait, no it wasn't, it was awful.
>Your face tenses as you slowly open your eyes, and that damnable knocking keeps going.
“I'm old! Not deaf!”
>The knocking, happily, ceases.
>The door opening all of a sudden is less welcome.
>Her Majesty Celestia barges in.
>You simply roll your eyes as you reach out of your bed for the pills by your bedside.
>Heart pills, cholesterol pills, Iron and vitamins.
>Fibre, Calcium, breath mints.
>God being old sucked.
>As soon as you swallowed these pills down with some water you leaned up to look at the goddess of daylight.
“You do remember I sleep naked right? This was funnier years ago, but now I somehow doubt you want to look at this.”
>You slap your chest, your liver spots and old man boobs jiggling.
>Celestia rolls her eyes.
>”It's nothing I haven't seen before Anonymous. I just thought I'd spare my servants of that sight today.”
>Today?
>Damn, what was today?
>You try to push through the mental fog, remember what today's date even was.
>It's little use, so you turn to the calendar beside your bed.
>June first.
>Oh
>Your birthday
>Your eightieth birthday.
>How fun.
“You always did care about protecting them.”
>You stretch, clicking your aching back as you did so.
>”I care about all my subjects Anon. Even you.”
>Even I.
“So. It's just a small event, right? I didn't want anything big this...”
>Celestia blushes.
>You sigh.
>”I'm afraid you're still officially the head of the Royal household. And as such, decorum...”
“Fuck Decorum. It's been years since I officially served as head of the household. It's been ten since I've ever been involved in hiring new staff.”
>”It's not... You deserve a decent celebration.”
“Won't get many left I suppose.”
>Celestia growls. A low thing deep within her throat. She never liked your talk of mortality.
>”Don't. I don't know exactly how long humans live for, but you still have...”
>You hold up your hands in appeasement, not really wishing to have this kind of conversation first thing in the morning.
“Sorry. Look... I've got to get out of this bed. Unless you wish to see old man penis your majesty I need you to leave.”
>She sighs, trotting slightly where she stands.
>”You will be there? Four o'clock?”
>You consider not going, but you don't have the strength to leave the castle to flee from your own party. And frankly, you owe her this.
“I'll be there. In as good a condition as possible. All things considered.”
>Celestia smiles awkwardly but accepts that as an answer and moves to leave.
>You make sure she's gone, before grabbing your arm support and dragging your aching body out of bed.
>You stumble into your en-suite, gripping the porcelain basin in a death grip.
>And you look into the mirror.
>Wrinkles, silver hair, liver spots and a single scar from decades ago make up your haggard face.
>For a moment you look at what you had become. How the years had taken their toll on you, same as everyone else.
>It hadn't always been like this.

>You stare into the mirror and touch the few silver hairs on your head.
>You couldn't care less, they look good on you. Dignified.
“Starfall. What's on the itinerary today?”
>Starfall, your personal assistant, the unlucky mare a butler to a butler, looked down at her list.
>As you began to clean your teeth you rattled it off.
>”The Grand Galloping Gala still needs its decorations picked up from Manehatten. Prince Artemis is expecting dinner with Her Majesty today. Lord Prima Noctis has a petition that must not go through or be brought before Her Majesty, but must be at least heard by her Royal household.”
>You nod and grin through the toothpaste.
>”Normal activities otherwise. Sunrise in an hour, court from dawn till midday.”
>You finish cleaning your teeth and spit out, before shooting yourself a prize-winning smile.
>Literally. It had won you a prize in some high society magazine last year. Mares loved the smile, and were usually a little flustered at a professional male in such a high and respected position.
>Most assumed that was why Celestia hired you two decades ago.
>You... Could not confirm that. She had been very weird about why she hired you with no experience.
“And of course, Her Majesty will require a run to Ambrosia's cakeshop will she not?”
>”Of course sir.”
>You shake your head.
>You share one last look into the mirror, checking out your slim physique that honestly took up much of your free time to maintain. If you were hired all those years for eye candy, you had to maintain.
“Am I looking acceptable today Starfall?”
>Your young apprentice finally looks up from her notepad, checking out your shirtless body as you smile into the mirror.
>”Y... You look acceptable sir.”
>You chuckle.
“Acceptable huh? We shall have to try better than that. Come on, perhaps I ought to put some clothes on.”
>Smacking her on the rear, you leave the bathroom and make your way towards your wardrobe.
>It was going to be a good day.

>You stare into your haggard reflection.
>Starfall was dead. The one person you had been training to replace you died surrounded by her children and grandchildren.
>You, the beast out of place, lingered.
>You had outlived them all. All your old bosses, most of your colleagues. Most of your protégés and employees.
>Only Celestia had remained a constant, even now at the end.
>You coughed into the basin, and blood dripped into the pipes.
>And you kept coughing, splattering the basin in blood.
>When at last your lungs could give no more, you gasp, gripping the basin as you crouched on the tile floor.
>Slowly you pulled yourself up, looked into the mirror, and wiped the blood off around your mouth.
>Your hollow green eyes can barely remain focused.
>You turn on the tap to wash the blood away, then get to work cleaning yourself.
>When at last that laborious task was done you shuffled your way towards the closet inside your room.
>For once you'd put on more than some sweater, shirt and pressed trousers.
>Like or not, today demanded a certain level of class.
>And you reach for the hand...
>Hoof
>Hoof-made suit. Black as onyx, with a white shirt and naval blue bow tie.
>Fuck you, ponies didn't need to know whether or not that looked good.
>As you put on your trousers, you realise you've been losing far too much weight again, and sigh as you reach for your suspenders.
>Being old sucked. It'd be over soon enough.

>For some of them, it was the first time they had ever seen their nominal boss.
>That wasn't to say you were completely absent from the job you claimed to have, but you'd long ago passed on the day to day running of the household to your second in command.
>Occasionally you'd step in for disciplinary matters, or to meet old foreign ambassador friends you'd met over the years.
>Indeed, to your surprise, it was one such Minotaur you were meeting now.
>”Anon! Old friend!”
“Silvertouch!”
>The two of you hobble towards each other and shake hands.
>Once, your meeting would've been mutual slaps on the back, maybe some thrown punches, and certainly plenty of Cactus juice to drink into the wee hours of the morning.
>But time had its way with us all, and your drink of choice had changed to a light camomile tea.
>The punches gave way to friendly handshakes.
>And the wee hours now only fifteen minutes.
“How are you old thing? It's been a while.”
>”Oh, fine. They're speaking of finally sending me back to Labyryinthia if you can believe that.”
“Well. You are old.”
>”So are you Anon, but they keep you here. I swear, there's no respect for my bloodline anymore.”
>You roll your eyes and try to stop him before he starts to rant about being a descendant of Nergüi, the minotaur that created their modern nation a thousand years ago.
“The young are want to be disrespectful. I can hardly blame them. I hate old people.”
>Silvertouch laughs out, before shakingly grabbing his cup of tea. Parkinsons, or some Minotaur derivative, had afflicted him. You know, and likely he did as well, that his ambassadorial career was coming to an end.
>”They prefer the tales of Khuchtei the strong or Gaikhaltai the charming. No respect for the best of the three brothers.”
>You sigh and shake your head, taking a sip of your own mug of tea.
“I wouldn't know. I've never been to Labyrynthia.”
>”Oh, you must visit some time.”
>You wince slightly.
“I don't know. I don't think I've got the will to make the trip.”
>Silvertouch's own expression darkens.
>”It has been sapped from you. From both of us. I shall die here, that I have no doubt.”
“I know the feeling. A stranger in a... Once strange land.”
>”I dream of it sometimes. The warm sands. Home.”
“As do... It's difficult to remember that place. I am grateful for everything I was able to become here. But I cherish what little I remember of that world.”
>”I suppose, at least, I shall be buried in the sands, in the tombs of my ancestors.”
“I will be here. As far from home as I've always been.”
>”Do not fret Anonymous. We've both lived long, fruitful lives.”
>You shake your head.
“You may have been 'fruitful'. I on the...”
>You cough.
>The china drops from your hand and cracks against the floor as you hold up your hand to your mouth.
>And you just keep coughing.
>You feel your energy leave you as you keep coughing, unable to stop.
>Silvertouch leaps up to try and help you, but with your free hand, you stop him.
>After nearly a solid minute of coughing, finally you cease.
“Sorry. Ahem. Sorry about that.”
>You glance at the table. The tablecloth near you is covered in blood. Some has splattered onto the cakes you were about to at as well.
“My apologies. I shall get the servants to fetch us some new...”
>”Anon... You don't look too well.”
>Understatement of the century there.
>You check your suit is clean, then wipe your mouth.
“I haven't long left. I figured I have to go one way or another, so I've been keeping it quiet.”
>Silvertouch shakes as he places one of his hooves on your back.
>”That's... What is it?”
>You shrug.
“Doesn't really matter. Hurts like a bitch.”
>”Anon. You need to go to a horsepital. You need to...”
“I'm eighty years old Silvertouch. You and Celestia herself are all I have left in this world. I'm not like you, I don't have legions of kids and grand-kids.”
>”That doesn't mean...”
“I'm not afraid. Not really. I've been ready for this for years. Y'know, I outlived my grandparents? I might have outlived my Parents. I don't know. Home is... so far away.”
>You wipe the tear from your eye.
“Way I see it, the only reason to hold on is to keep... Losing myself to the fog.”
>You tap your head.
“So long as I die as myself I'll be happy. Proud of a life long lived, even without a decent legacy.”
>Silvertouch is silent. He keeps his hoof on your shoulder, but he's at a loss for words.
“Go on. Let's have tea together.”
>You wave him off.
>Slowly and cautiously he stumbles his way back down to his seat as a servant replaces your shattered teacup and fills it.
“You will keep quiet about what we discussed here, won't you? Please.”
>The servant, not one you knew, nodded.

>Your party has started. You grip the bannister of the Grand Staircase as you thank a bunch of ponies you barely remember for coming for what was essentially a free party for them.
>Some you did remember. Old Lords and Ladies who'd look at you with sympathy.
>Others were sprightly young things that remembered the last time you actually did your job properly. A number of retired Servants, Maids and Butlers that greeted you like you were their father. That showed you to their children, who looked pretty bored being here.
>It still warmed your cold heart to see old friends, and their children, as bratty as they were.
>Despite being a formal occasion for a butler, the rest of the household were hard at work moving between attendants, filling up glasses, passing out hors-d'oeuvres.
>It had been under your explicit instruction three decades ago the name was changed from Horse-d'oeurves, and you hadn't regretted that one bit.

>You stand before an ancient painting. You've done enough and you need to rest for a while.
>It's a grand thing, twice as tall as you are, of some explorer from two hundred years ago. You had always taken a moment out of your day to look a it, even when you came here over fifty years ago.
>It was striking. A male unicorn wearing a truly outstanding amount of clothes for a pony.
>But it was its eyes. Deep green and piercing, the same as yours, that made you look upon it.
>You hear the familiar sound of metal upon marble and smile softly as your employer approaches you.
>”One of the few males to get far in life. Farseer was quite a... Pony.”
“You remember him?”
>She turns to you.
>”I remember them all. You shall be...”
>The two of you stand there, quietly, for a few moments. You take one of your hands off your cane and place your right hand against her back
“I'm going to go out to the balcony. I know you need to set the sun soon. It's been a... Lovely party. Thank you. For everything.”
>You hold back a cough in your throat, hoping desperately she needs to go.
>”Anon... I...”
>You smile
>She shakes her head.
>”I suppose it's too late for that?”
“I suppose it is. Perhaps one day Celestia. Until next time.”
>You fight the tears and the cough, holding them back from her. It'd only upset her.
>She had others to look after. She had the 1000th summer sun celebration. That unicorn mare of hers. All the little ponies. You were only one man
>She finally leaves. Perhaps she knew. You were always bad at keeping secrets from her Majesty
>You spare one final glance towards Farseer. How long had he lived for? Did he pass on his greatness to the next generation?
>Or was he like you?
>Ultimately... Alone.
>Your next coughing fit starts. Worst than usual, you collapse to the floor. You feel something snap within in. Blood drips from your maw.
>You desperately try to hold it back.
>Someone had to clean this.
>You knew how to get the stains out...

>You stumble to your favourite balcony in the castle. It wasn't the one attached to your room, nor the grand one beside the court.
>No, this was a small one at the edges of the castle.
>Starring west, towards the setting sun. From here you swore you could almost see all of Equestria.
>There was a cool wind blowing from the north. Another reason you liked this balcony so much.
>And the final reason.
>There was a small bench, just ready to sit upon.
>Shakingly you almost fall into it, your aching bones screaming as you do so.
>You try to move to sit more comfortably, but...
>You cannot find the energy.
>You wince as you taste the iron on your mouth. Rubbing it with your hand, your fingers are caked in blood.
>Taking in the majesty of the sky, you whisper and admit something to yourself;
“I don't think I'll be getting up.”
>You try to smile, and close your eyes as the last rays of the sun warm your face one last time.
“This is good.”
>You try to open your eyes again, but your eyelids are quite heavy.
>Your breath slows, and your throat constricts a little.
>It isn't...
>It isn't too painful.
>You'd quite like to look towards the mare in the moon.
>But maybe you should just get some rest.
>There's always next...

>You awaken.
>And fuck, does everything fucking hurt.
“Fuck me!”
>You try and stand up, and nearly fall down onto the floor again.
>”What the!”
>You try and turn to the voice, your eyes squinting through the pain.
>At best, you can make out a vague purple shape screaming at you.
>”What are you!?”
>What?
“What?”
>”You can talk?”
>What?
“Of course I can talk. I'm a god-damn human being you...”
>Your vision clears, and you cannot help but notice you are talking to a small purple unicorn.
“Holy shit. A talking horse?”

>You desperately scramble back from the animal, hopefully before it charges you out of fear.
>You smack against an enormous window. Out of room to crawl, you stand, towering over the dimunative unicorn.
“Where the fuck am I!”
>The animal is so thoroughly confused by your presence it can barely speak. Usually, you would not hold this against a tiny horse, but you were pretty sure it was speaking earlier.
“Answer me!”
>”You're in... I don't know how to answer you.”
>The animal cocks its head.
>”What did you say you were?”
>You growl.
“Human fucking being.”
>”Fascinating. I've never seen a human fucking being.”
>You're not sure if its the adrenaline running through your veins.
>Or how terrified you are right now.
>But you can't help but laugh nervously at that.
“Just...”
>You calm down, lowering your hands.
“Just a human being. What are you?”
>The animal trots forwards slightly, but stays a good few feet away from you.
>”I'm a unicorn. Where did you come from?”
>You shake your head.
“Uh-huh. No. You first. Where am I?”
>”You're safe.”
“That's not comforting horse. Where am I?”
>”Horse? I mean, if you're being general I'm a pony, but as I said I'm...”
“Answer the god damn question before I take that telescope of yours and smack it against...”
>”No! Don't!”
>Wait. You hadn't even finished threatening the innocent Unicorn.
>Maybe you're the bad guy here.
>”You're in the city of Canterlot. My student accommodations. Equestria.”
>That was mostly gibberish to you.
“Okay. Fine. Right.”
>”Are you okay.”
“Huh? Oh, no. I'm totally having a panic attack right now. I think I might collapse in a moment.”
>The tiny unicorn rushes about, calling for spikes for some reason.
>That does very little to settle you down.
>Breath.
>Remember to breath.
>Relax.
>You fall to the floor, still conscious, but your vision is a narrow hallway of darkness.
>You feel about a thousand degrees, your heart is beating like a drum.
>And you think you taste blood in your mouth.
>As tempting as falling into the comforting blanket of unconsciousness would be, a familiar scent barely keeps you cognizant.
>Camomile tea.
>Your need for a hot drink wins against the veil of darkness, and you shakingly take the teacup you can barely see into your hands and sip.
>The comforting warmth and energy of a cup of tea do much to alleviate your immediate symptoms.
>You are, of course, still internally screaming, but a content sigh and returning vision are good enough.
>As your vision returns to you, you notice you have been joined by another animal. Whereas the first was a small horse with a horn on its head, this one was an even smaller reptile. Similar colours, but maybe that was just your damaged brain.
“Hey. A biped lizard. That's cool.”
>Then it talks in what is probably a male voice.
>”Lizard?”
>The unicorn turns towards it and shoots it some kind of look you cannot work out.
>”Spike here is a dragon.”
“A dragon? That's fantastic.”
>”You are taking this pretty well.”
>You shake your head with a wry smile playing on your lips.
“Oh, my heart is threatening to conk out it's beating so fast. I've just accepted I am suffering from an extremely bad mental breakdown. Thank you for the tea...”
>It takes the unicorn a moment to notice you're asking for a name.
>”I'm Twilight Sparkle.”
“Of course you are. That makes sense. Clearly, my mental breakdown has a child's imagination.”
>She takes a bit of offence to that. Whether it's your insinuation that her 'reality' is a figment of your childlike imagination or because you're insulting her name you don't know.
“Sorry. Bad day for me. I'm Anonymous.”
>She tries the name out a few times, rolling her tongue around.
>It's a strange look for her.
>It.
>Whatever man.
>You sit up slightly, still collapsed against the window of this place.
“Thanks for the tea.”
>”That's all right. Thanks for not... Attacking me.”
>You smile at that.
“So um... If this isn't my imagination...”
>”Which it isn't. I'm very much real.”
“Sure, let's say I agree with you there. Um... Since this is a world with dragons and unicorns that talk and shit, could you take me to the nearest wizard or planewalker?”
>”Planewalker?”
>You shake your head as your grip tightens on the tiny teacup within your hands. Oh, you do not want to break her china, but...
“Just... Someone who can... I don't know man. Is there any way I can end this mental delusion? Or do I have to learn the true meaning of Christmas, or face my gravestone or something?”
>”Again. I am real. Spike is real.”
>You wave a free hand.
“Whatever. Can you please answer the...”
>”Are you asking if I know someone who...”
“Answer the Fucking question! Fuck me! How...”
>You take a deep breath.
“I'm sorry. I'm quite stressed right now.”
>She flinches but nods softly.
>”Okay. I can do magic. I assume this is because you want to go...”
>You nod, barely keeping yourself together as a blood vessel on your temple nearly bursts.
>”Right. Well... I can't do that. I don't entirely know anyone who can.”
>You breathe carefully, trying to stay both calm and conscious. You were not mad at her, that was categorically unfair. It was just the whole situation pressing down on your skull.
“Okay. Is there anyone who might?”
>Twilight, thankfully, nods.
>”Princess Celestia. She's not... entirely in a great place right now. We've just had a funeral for her old butler.”
>Oh great. Even in a stress-induced delusion, you have to deal with this shit.
“Right. Well, we won't be more than a few minutes will we?”
>”I... suppose. I mean, it would be fascinating to talk to you about...”
“I'm sure it would be little unicorn. But I would quite like to find out if I can get home. Sorry.”
>”I understand. Spike, should we send a letter ahead?”
>She turns to the dragon that is both tiny and wingless, making you wonder why it's called a dragon.
>He shrugs.
>Your blood vessel on your temple tenses, and you nearly snap.
>Deep breath.
>Relax
>Push and pull.
“I don't mean to be rude, I am honestly sorry for constantly being curt, but you have to understand my situation. I am incredibly scared, and I'd like to go home.”
>Twilight sends you a weird look. Not one as if she had been insulted, or even one sympathetic to your plight as you nearly drop the teacup in your bone white hands.
>No. It's one of recognition. For only the briefest moments, before she seems to shake her head clear.
>”Are you able to walk?”
>She pokes you, and you shoot her a wry look before trying to stand. Shakingly, you get to your feet.
“Oh thank god. I was worried I wouldn't get up.”
>You ignore the brief glance she shoots to your now head height crotch.
“Please. Lead the way.”
>She nods and begins to walk away, and you glance down at your shaking feet, stumbling as you move forward. You grip and support yourself against every piece of furniture between you and the stairs, then haltingly make your way down them, gripping the bannister for dear life
>But every step you take strengthens you, and you manage to cross the ground floor mostly without aid.
>You stop just before the door.
“Is it safe for me to be out there?”
>You turn to the little unicorn
>”Maybe you're right. We'll throw this over you.”
>Her horn glowed, and to your shock a blanket on one of the coaches was covered in a halo of light, picked up and held in mid-air
>You flinch from the strange touch of what you guess is telekinesis as the blanket covers you.
>For a moment you are struck, but nod and throw the blanket over your head and tightly grip it against yourself.
>”Let's go.”

>You shudder.
>The castle that the mini-unicorn dragged you to was...
>Majestic.
>Terrifying to behold.
>It wasn't just that. There were hundreds of these little horses. Unicorns, those without horns. Even a few with wings.
>Yet no people. You were a stranger in a strange land.
>Still wrapped within your blanket like a kid trick or treating as a ghost you and your unicorn guide move through the castle. She seems to enjoy pointing things out, while your mind could not be further away.
>”And this is the painting of Farseer. Explorer of the distant lands beyond...”
>Great. Please, give me a history tour of my mental breakdown. That's super useful. Couldn't remember Dy/Dx for my exams, but you can make up a fake history for this place? Fuck you brain.
>Your unwanted tour-guide stops. For a second you fear someone is going to question the brown blanket walking beside her, but instead she's stopping as someone lifts up a painting onto the walls of the hallway.
>”That's Brightsmile...”
>Her voice turns... mournful upon those words.
>”Till a week ago, Celestia's head of household.”
>You take a decent look of the picture. It's fairly small, and obviously a rush job. It's a painting of a unicorn with dark grey fur, green piercing eyes and a soft smile on its face.
“The dead guy right?”
>Twilight simply nods.
“If you want to pay your respects I can...”
>Twilight shook her head.
>”I didn't know the stallion that well. Only saw him a few times. No. An alien getting back home is more important than a dead stallion.”
“I hope this princess of yours agrees.”
>”I'm sure she will. She's probably never meet anything like you. And would be only too happy to help a creature in need.”
“Creature. Gee, thanks.”
>The two of you walk on, past the paintings of dead horses, and down a long corridor you didn't know.

>You reach out for the sun. Feeling it past the apex of its journey.
>You are Celestia. Princess of the Sun, sole ruler of Equestria.
>”Your Majesty.”
>Sunspot speaks up. The replacement for Anon. Or 'Brightsmile', as the rest of them now remembered him as.
>At least Cadance remembered him. The two had barely interacted, but she had been thoroughly confused when people referred to him not only as a stallion but by a completely different name.
>You hadn't been the one to find his corpse, lying on that bench on his favourite balcony. You wouldn't have recognised the Unicorn his body became.
>You recognised the eyes. Those eyes had been staring at you for a thousand years on dozens of faces. And always just one.
>All proof of the man Anon had been, gone. Replaced by Brightsmile, the Stallion everyone else remembered.
“Yes, Sunspot?”
>”There are no more scheduled meetings for today if you wish too...”
>There is a knocking upon the great doors of the court.
>Typically, one of the household would announce the presence of someone approaching the door if it was someone with either an inflated ego like that Silvertouch fellow or unknown to her.
>So it must be someone you were familiar with. You'd like it to be Cadance again, so the two of you could reminisce on Anon. But She knew him little. He was your friend. Your...
>Well. Like he had said. Time ran out for anything more.
“Come in.”
>You try to keep your voice light and kind. The one everyone always deman... Expected of you.
>The doors are opened by a purple haze, and Unicorn and Ghost walk in.
>The ghost was brown and tall, far too tall to be a pony. Perhaps a Minotaur ghost.
>The unicorn was Twilight Sparkle. At this point, you knew her pretty well.
>”Your Majesty.” Twilight says.
>”Should I bow? Should I take this blanket off?” asked a male voice in a low whisper from behind what you should have known was a blanket. The voice makes you pause. Stills your heart.
>”You should probably do both, yes.” Twilight whispered back to the man behind the blanket.
>Anon removed his blanket, the cloth pooling at his feet, and he bowed. Down on one knee, his head lowered.
>Your breath is caught in your throat. You'd thought it would be years till you found out where he was again. If not a lifetime.
>You had never met Anon so quickly after his return.
>You wanted to tell him... So much.
>But you knew better than that. He didn't know you. And in all honesty, you didn't know him anymore. You knew the Anon that had served you for fifty years. The Explorer of the northern seas. The Triarch of the Minotaurs, the wanderer of the badlands. The Beast in the tall grass.
>Dozens of names, and more you might never know.
>But they were not his. They were Anon's, but not the one before you. You didn't know this man. And he...
>Didn't know you.
“What... What are you little one?”
>It hurt you. To talk to him in this way. But you were watched, and you could not break the mask.
>”Your Majesty. I am an alien from another world. Apparently.”
>He shot a dark look to the floor with that last word.
>”I am Anonymous, your Grace.”
>Twilight twitched at the wrong form of address. You couldn't care less.
>You smile softly, holding back the tears from your eyes.
>He might not be the man who had served you for fifty years...
>And he never will be.
>But he is Anonymous. You can see in his face. The dark hair. The lithe build. The piercing green eyes.
“I am Princess Celestia of Equestria, Princess of the sun and regent of the moon. I... What might I do for you, Anonymous?”
~=~
>The wind picks at your hair, as you lean against the balcony. The low evening sun ahead of you, its orange rays bouncing off the pristine white marble around you.
>You were in no mood to admire the décor. No mood to do much of anything but listen to the howling wind. Maybe you'd try screaming against the storm, but that was as fruitless as anything else.
>”I'm sorry.” Says a regal, pained voice. The princess of the Sun at last breaking the silence after what she had told you.
“You didn't even try.”
>”I know these...”
>You turn around to face the object of your current wrath.
“Damn you! Do you think that's any comfort for me!”
>You weren't really angry at her. The majestic looking horse who's mane flowed like the northern lights, whose eyes reflected the pain you hoped was within. Sympathy, sorrow and regret marked her face.
>But you didn't want to be consoled. You wanted to be angry. If you were angry, you couldn't think too much on your situation. If you were angry, you weren't still. If you stopped... you might not move again.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
>She swallows something within her throat. Her words, while usually as soft as velvet, were as harsh and brittle as... As yours.
>”I am. None have succeeded in what you need. None. In a thousand years. Even I could not break apart reality in such a way...”
“Or perhaps you are my imagination telling me that.”
>Yes. Grip on tight to the hallucination theory. That merely meant you were hopefully safe in a mental facility. That meant that you were still visitable. Still visible. Still... There.
>”I wish that were the case Anon. But this place. This time. It's real.”
>You turn away from the princess of the sun, towards the dying light that was apparently hers as well.
>You stay silent for a good few minutes, staring across the great valley.
... I'm sorry” you whisper to the wind, too low to be heard. Your intended recipients were too far away from them to hear you anyway.
>”Anonymous.”
“Leave me. I... Need some time alone.”
>”Of course. I understand. Please, I shall only be a call away if you need me.”
>You turn to the majestic creature and smile a weak smile. It is shattered, false. Broken. You can only hope it does enough to assuage any guilt. It... She did not deserve that at least. You knew that.
>You always suspected you got the world you deserved.
>As she left you alone, the light seemed to leave with her, and the heavens seem to come alive with a second sort of light. A second, and a thousand at once.
>A chill moves through your bones as the sun descends. To your left, you can see it for the first time.
>And it is not the moon you knew. In place of the sea of tranquillity, or the sea of tranquillity.
>In its place seemed to be a hundred lunar seas. In the shape of a unicorn's head.
>Like a bad pun. Mare of the moon.
>You were not home.
“And what of you? Are you as trapped here as I am? As fake as...”
>Your conversational partner, as you are not surprised to discover, is silent.
>You sigh. Turning to your right arm... You're afraid.
>But you pinch yourself.
>And you feel it.
>That was...
>If you were safely in a mental hospital suffering from an extreme nervous breakdown, you shouldn't have been able to feel that. Surely your real arms would've been trapped in white.
>No. That was a real pinch. That was you. That was real.
>You step back from the balcony, nearly hitting the bench behind you.
>Low, above the low roar of the wind, you could hear a call to the edge. And that wasn't... You weren't...
>You shake your head clear. There was little you might do here.
>You get the world you deserve. Perhaps you ought to see what that world really was?

>Your journey alone through the castle draws a number of stares and whispers. But none of what you assumed were the castle staff were stopping you, or really getting in your way. Not at least, until you returned to the court.
>A golden armoured pony of... Some type, you didn't know which, stopped you.
>Oh. With its wing. Pegasus then.
>”Day court is over... Minotaur?”
>Its stoicness nearly broke on that last word, but he, definitely he, made sure to continue as if it hadn't.
>”Please, unless you have an appointment leave the area and return to your embassy.”
“I have no embassy. Your Princess is probably expecting me.”
>The guard looks you up and down, but the door opens a crack. Turning away from you, the guard peers through the crack in the door, nods, then stands aside as the doors open.
>Without invitation you make your way across the great hall. Your steps echoing across the emptiness.
>The Princess of the Sun was sat upon her golden throne, her head in her hooves before she turned up to at last face you as you made it halfway down the hall.
>The look she gives you nearly makes you pause. Nearly stills your heart.
>Regret. Sorrow.
>You sigh and look away for the briefest moments as you cross the divide.
“Should I keep bowing?”
>You hope your tone and question lighten the mood, but it sounds hollow even as the words leave your mouth. You finally risk turning your head back, and her regal mask has returned to her.
>”You don't need to. You are not a subject of mine.”
“Thank you. But I am hardly a subject of any nation now.”
>”Are you all right, Anonymous?”
>You seriously consider the question for a few seconds before answering honestly.
“As all right as I might be, under the circumstances. I could not truly ask for more.”
>”You are allowed to be more than all right.”
“Thanks. But allow me just that for now.”
>She nods her heads and moves off her throne, trotting down the steps to move closer to you.
>”I... We can set you up with accommodations. Somewhere to sleep, somewhere to eat. At least until you are back on your feet.”
>Back on your feet? Why would an equine use the word...
>You shake your head clear.
“Thank you. I notice many of your subjects are naked, but I would quite like to be able to wash my clothes. Or perhaps, if at all possible, get some new ones?”
>Her expression turns strange for a moment before once again settling upon her regal calm.
>”I can see what I can do. But it will take a few days to create clothes that might fit you. Perhaps we can use some Minotaur parts...”
“Thank you. Umm...”
>What do you say? That if you stop, you don't know what you might do to yourself? That you need to keep busy, keep looking forward, or else you'd look start looking back?
>”Go on Anonymous.”
>Her voice shatters your carefully constructed request before it even leaves your lips.
“I need something to do with my time. Is there anything I can do?”
>You swear you see a ghost of a smile play upon those strange horsey lips.
>”I... shall see Anonymous. I suppose even if you are a stallion, you're alone and need to care for yourself.”
>The... low growl of that slightly unnerves you, as does the subject matter.
>But, you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
>It's strange...
>Is she licking her lips?
>You take a step back as Celestia collects herself.
>”Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
“That's understandable.”
>”I shall have Sunspot take you to your new room. We shall talk tomorrow Anonymous.”
“I hope so. I doubt...”
>Keep that to yourself Anon.
“Thank you. Even if you can't send me back, at least you didn't throw me out there. I doubt I'd survive for long.”
>”It's the least I could do. Goodbye Anonymous.”
“Goodbye, Princess.”
>Your shoes squeak on the marble floor as you turn, and begin the long walk out of the court.
~=~
>”What makes you think you are qualified for the position of head of household? We usually prefer to promote from within Mr...”
“Anonymous. Yeah, I figured. Well, honestly, I thought I needed a change of scenery. I've been here for a few years y'know. Only so much you can make off cards in Las Pegasus before the wrong sort of people... Ponies, start looking your way.”
>”Do you have any experience in the field of maintaining a household.”
“Not one bit. What I do have is a looming presence, the ability to sound posh on command, a rocking bod' and a winning smile.”
>And you shoot Mistylake that same smile. That smile that had gotten you out of trouble from Underground Manehatten card games to high rollers in Las Pegasus.
>Usually because it showed off your canines enough to scare whoever was looking. But some of them liked to be scared.
>You were pretty sure Mistylake was one such mare.
>”Those... Are not necessarily qualifications Mr Anonymous.”
>She says that, but the low blush on her face and what you were doing with your foot beneath the table suggest otherwise.
“Oh? To you believe it would be so bad to serve me? You would be under me, right? If I was head of household?”
>”That... That would be correct Mr...”
“Please. Call me Anon.”
>”Anon.”
>Her voice is low.
“I know it must be unusual for a male such as myself to be in charge. But I think you... And the Princess of course.”
>”Of... Course.”
“Would find it a most pleasurable experience. Wouldn't you agree?”
>”I...I...”
>You remove your foot.
“Something to consider. My contact information is all in my letter. You know how to get in contact with me.”
>And a wink to finish it off...
>Good.
>Damn, you're going to have to burn this sock.
~=~
>You're awake long before the knocking started. Still, you are naked in bed, you ought to...
“Let me put some clothes on!”
>The door opens anyway, and you scramble to cover yourself with the duvet.
“Damnit. What?”
>You turn to the door and curse yourself for shouting at, again, the ruler of the nation.
>The same ruler that has given you this room.
>”Sorry Anonymous. Did I disturb you?”
>You definitely see that barely hidden smile this time.
“Princess... Us humans are not naked around others. Not unless we're mentally ill or they are...”
>”Intimate?”
>You rub your face in your hands.
“Yes.”
>”I do apologise. I just wish to check up on you before my day got too busy.”
>The dawn rays of the sun stream into the room.
“I didn't sleep. I just dreamt.”
>She shoots you a quizzical look, and you try and wave it off.
>”Well. If you are awake and wish to do something productive with your day, my favourite student wishes to collect information on your species.”
>You sigh and rub your tired eyes.
“That'd be... Interesting. Maybe I can get some information in return. I am... So fucking lost here.”
>Her smile breaks slightly upon hearing that, but the regal mask returns.
>”I shall inform her of your acceptance. Do you need breakfast?”
>You shake your head. You can't eat. Not right now.
“No. Thank you.”
>She nods her head.
>”I shan't keep you. Twilight will be here in about an hour. If you could be ready for her by then.”
>You wave her off.
“I can wash and dress myself. I just hope she doesn't mind day old clothes.”
>Celestia coughs. You raise an eyebrow at her, but she simply nods and smiles.
>”Good day Anonymous. I hope we shall talk later.”
“Sure.”
>Finally she leaves.
>You stretch and walk out of bed, scratching your ass as you make your way to the en-suite.
~=~
>”Do you have to escort me to Ponyville?”
“Do you want to go on your own?”
>”I don't especially want to go.”
“Well, there we go. We're both here against our wills.”
>Here, currently, was a basket of a hot air balloon. A couple hundred feet into the air
>God this place was pretty. You leaned further over the edge of the basket, only to be pulled back by Spike.
“What?”
>”Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
>You shrug
“Hey man. I don't get to see this sort of thing very often. I'll take my chances.”
>But you take his advice and lean back. Only the occasional roar of the flame breaks the silence, until...
>”So. How have you been?”
>You consider the question for a second.
“I.. Could be worse. I'm actually getting some sleep occasionally, which is good.”
>”And your... Job?”
>You laugh at her tone
“Yeah, Affirmative action at its finest right there. I don't know. Don't like the uniform...”
>You flap your white and gold uniform. A single-breasted waistcoat over a smart shirt, with black trousers beneath
“And people...”
>”Ponies.”
”People seem to have, I'm not really sure how else to put it, but a very high expectation of what I can do. As if they thought better of me for some reason. Yet when I ask, none of them could say why.”
>Twilight shrugs her shoulders... Withers?
“So I know why I'm here...”
>”Cosmically?”
>The little twat laughs to herself as you roll your eyes.
“No. I mean, I know why I am in this hot air balloon. Why are you here?”
>”Cosmically?”
“Don't start.”
>”Celestia told me I have to plan the whole blasted sun celebration. Make sure everything is in order. Oh, and 'Have fun'.”
“God forbid.”
>”She completely ignored me when I told her about Nightmare Moon.”
>Your head hurts. You rub your temple for a seconds before replying.
“Perhaps she's just as sick of your shit as Spike.”
>”Don't drag me into this man.”
>You shoot an apologetic smile at the Dragon
>”So why are you here?”
>You smile.
“Security apparently. Really, she just thought I need to get out of the castle for a day. I see why you like her so much, she's a good boss.”
>”She's not just 'a boss'. She's the divine ruler of Equestria. She's the reason the sun rises and sets...”
>You roll your eyes and lean out of the balloon a little.
“If we're going to have another one of those talks I will jump out. You can explain it to her why I'm dead.”
>”Feel free. We're almost there. You'll probably just get a few broken bones.”
>You glance down, and sure enough, the ground and even the houses and individual ponies have come into view.
>You narrow your eyes at Twilight as you step back from the edge.
“You win this one.”
>You wait in a fake huff as the balloon begins its final descent.
>”So what do you actually plan to do with your day?”
“Fuck all. I might just sleep in a park or something. I... Well, you know.”
>”You sure you don't want to help me and Spike sort out everything.”
>You shake your head.
“You're not getting out of your 'goddess given duty' that easily Twilight. Hey, where are you staying tonight anyway?”
>”The Library. Why?”
“Yeah, I'm going to take some sleeping pills and wake up when the Celestia arrives and I actually have to work.”
>Twilight glances worriedly towards the pill bottle you suddenly have in your hands.
>”Should you be taking those...”
“Horse Tranquillizers here aren't as good as they are back home. But they get the job done.”
>”I meant self-medicating.”
“I need to fucking sleep.”
>You rub your temple again, soothing the ringing in your head.
“I can't. Every time I close my eyes... I definitely dream. But I'm just as tired when I get out of that dream as when I fall into it.”
>She pauses before she speaks again.
>”You look... better than last week at least.”
“Thank the pills. Nice, dreamless sleep.”
>”Are you all right?”
>Of course, you're not all right.
>There's no way you're telling her that of course.
“I'm fine. Just... Tired.”
>You lurch suddenly as the Balloon comes to a sudden stop, nearly falling back off the sides anyway. Only Spike grabbing you stops that. Not because he was able to stop your fall, but because it reminds you to hold onto the edge enough to stay standing. Fuck you were tired.
“Fuck! Warn me next time!”
>Twilight laughs that fucking laugh of hers.
>God dammit, I can't stay mad at you, you fucking glorious unicorn.
>You hop over the edge of the balloon and help lift Spike out as Twilight hops out.
>Your appearance, and Twilight's and the balloon's arrival, has drawn a small crowd.
>You lean down to whisper to the lavender unicorn.
“Where's the library?”
>She looks around, then points to a tree.
>You raise an eyebrow.
>She rolls her eyes and points again.
>You roll your own eyes, sigh, and walk away.
“Nothing to see here people, just go about your business.”
>That, surprisingly enough, does nothing to stop the crowd from gathering. But they do at least part as you make your way to the great oak tree Twilight pointed out.
>You choke down a few sleeping pills for effect too. Hopefully, you'll pass out the moment you get inside.
>Then you see the strange look on a few of the mares faces.
>And you walk slightly faster.
>Hopefully you pass out after you securely lock the door to your room.
>You ignore the whispers and the odd looks
>And hurry right ahead.
>Eventually you reach the doors, just as the pills begin to kick in.
>Your vision begins to narrow, but still, you scramble up the stairs, first on your feet, then on all fours, dragging your body up there, down a corridor and into the...
>Upstairs toilet?
>Fuck it, it's got a lock.
>You desperately reach up and latch it, before the cool embrace of unconsciousness consumes you.
~=~
>You awaken to a blown in door, and a pissed off Twilight.
>You rub your head, and pull it up from the tiles, before deciding to stay lying down on your side.
“Sup.”
>”Don't sup me. Do you know how many ponies complained they couldn't use the upstairs toilet before I worked out where you were?”
“You had people around?”
>”I didn't want them. They just showed up. And immediately complained...”
“About the upstairs bathroom. Yeah, you said.”
>This time you successfully pull yourself up, gripping the basin to drag yourself to your feet.
“Sorry I missed your welcome group.”
>”It was a full party.”
“Oh wow. Well, then I am sorry I missed it. I could do with a drink.”
>”You do not look like you need a drink.”
>You lean down and glance into the 'perfect height for a tiny horse' mirror.
“Oh shit, you're right. I've got to sort out my hair and... Well, I should mostly be standing in the shadows behind Celestia. When is the celebration going to start?”
>”Four hours.”
>You chuckle and step away from the mirror.
“Oh thank god. Thought I had something to worry about.”
>You turn to the pissed off unicorn.
“Can you leave? I really need a piss.”
>”Unbelievable. How does Celestia put up with you.”
“Probably pity.”
>That answer... May have been a bit too honest. The two of you stand there in silence for a few moments, thinking on what you said.
“I.. I'm gonna...”
>”Yeah sure. I'll be downstairs.”
“Sure.”
>You run your hand down your face.
>We get the world we deserve.
~=~
>You stand behind the Princess of the Sun as she frets about every last final detail. This was apparently the Celestia few got to see. Not that you knew, it was the Celestia you saw more often than not. The sheer amount of work and stress required for everything to appear stress-free and effortless was surely maddening.
>You were just standing there to look pretty. And as sort of a minor footnote to the whole thing.
>'Oh, there is totally this new sapient species around. Don't worry, only the one though'.
>Strangely, she isn't fretting about herself. Not her appearance, though she is looking as majestic as usual. Not the banners, decorations or anything like that. Nor a practise speech, or even the very act of raising the sun and bringing in the longest day.
>No. It's about the stars.
>”Please, I need to see the moon for this to work.”
>You glance up to the skylight. Moonbeams were streaming into the room behind the stage. Heck, you could see at least the bottom half of the moon from where you were standing.
>Even see those shooting stars moving ever closer to it.
>Celestia kneels down in her strange horsey way and glances up towards the moon.
>Her guards are as stoic and nonplussed as ever, but you are no guard.
“Celestia? Are you all right?”
>You crouch down beside her and place a hand on her back. The guards flinch, and she does under the skin of your hand, but you cannot break her concentration on the moon.
>On her anxiety about a celestial object.
“Your majesty? Are you...”
>You turn your own gaze towards the moon, only to watch as four stars seem to collide with it. A cool stellar illusion...
>Well, you think that until the hundred craters that made up 'the mare in the moon' disappear.
“What the?”
>”Everypony. There is no need to be frightened. What happens next is to my plan.”
>What happens next?
>Also, that's the exact kind of sentence that scares people.
>The oil lanterns that lit the backstage were suddenly snuffed out, placing the room in near darkness except for the beams of light coming from the moon.
>Celestia turns to you.
>You gulp.
>You can see the terror in her eyes. The fear.
>You pat her back, for lack of anything else you can really do.
>She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and smiles at you.
>Before steeling herself and standing back up, her face cast into shadow.
>You hear a noise behind you and move to stand as well, turning to face it.
>The shadows lengthen, shift and swirl in eldritch patterns of form and void. Shadow and... Well, more shadow.
>The guards around you and Celestia step forwards towards that gathering darkness before it explodes out.
>They are thrown across the room and knock out instantly. Even you are thrown to the floor, but yet Celestia still stands. Her mane and tailing flowing in a non-existent wind.
>The Shadows retract once more and take shape.
>It takes, and perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, the shape of a horse.
>As tall as Celestia the beast stands. It's mane and tail a blue haze of the starry void above. Fangs form, then blue steel armour. Finally, its eyes. Full of loathing. Full of hatred. Aimed squarely at Celestia.
>Celestia, to your surprise, moves towards the thing. You reach out to stop her pointlessly, and the creature can only narrow its eyes even more as she begins to speak.
>”I...”
>The creature snarls and speaks. It's tone feminine, but still wroth.
>”Letting you speak was my mistake last time.”
>The creature's horn glows, and her mouth widens into a foul smile as Celestia screams. Fire consumes her even as you shout out. But the moment passes, and she disappears before your very eyes.
>You snap into action, standing up and running towards the creature.
>A blue grip encircles and tightens around you, and you are unable to even blink as you are pulled into the air.
>”What creature are you to even think you could...”
>She pauses as she looks upon your face. And for a moment, you see the humanity behind her cruel shadowed eyes.
>”Anonymous? How...”
>She nearly stops. Nearly pauses. But she shakes her head clear.
>”No matter. We shall work out why you are here later.”
>What the fuck? How the fuck did this thing know you? How the hell did she know your name?
>You open your mouth, or at least try to speak.
>But you are hit by something, and soon enough all is dark.
~=~
>You feel as if you had been unconscious for hours. Your mouth was dry, your lips cracked.
>But when you open your eyes, all is still night. Either you had been unconscious for only a few minutes, or you had slept in the whole day.
>That must be it. God, you were just being lazy. You make to stand.
>And you hear the distinctive sounds of metal smacking against stone. Feel the cold grip of steel upon your wrists. And you gulp.
>This... Had not usually been how you liked to wake up. Once was bad enough.
>Fucking Thailand.
>At least this time you were still dressed.
>Take in your surroundings Anon. Work out if there is a way out.
>And as you do so, you realise you are in a castle of some description.
>Ancient moss-covered stones as large as a pony, pillars reaching to a ceiling that had mostly collapsed in.
>The only light source being that full moon in the sky.
>And if you thought that the moon was alien when you arrived, it was only worse now. Without a single crater. No great lunar seas marring its surface. Just a pure orb of glowing white against a starlit sky.
>You glance towards the moonbeams lighting the castle, dust floating in the shafts of light. It would be almost pretty to look at, but you would quite like to get out of your chains.
>Pull
>Pull
>Pull?
>Okay, that didn't work.
>Perhaps twist and...
>No, that'd only break your wrists.
>Okay, your legs are free, you can stand up. Maybe you can somehow get the chains themselves off the wall and make a run for it.
>No harm in trying.
>Standing up, you turn your body and move one arm over the other to be facing the wall.
>All right. The chain is worked through a single loop hammered into the wall, sitting about level with your solar plexus. You pull the loop out, you'd be at least able to walk away.
>Placing one foot against the wall, and pulling the chains taut, you take a few deep breaths.
>This might also break your wrists, but you'd be free.
>1
>2
>3!
>You lean back and pull with all your might. Stone dust begins to gather in the air, and you hear the unpleasant sound of metal grinding against stone.
>The manacles around your wrists dig into the flesh beneath, and you desperately try to ignore that fact.
>You try to step back, give yourself more length, more leverage.
>But you step upon a smooth tile.
>Your shoes skid against the stone, and you trip.
>Your leg against the ground gives way, and you fall onto your ass. As you swear and try to alleviate your pain, you glance through a single eye towards the loop keeping you chained to the wall.
>It doesn't look like it has budged an inch.
“Son of a...”
>The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Goosebumps move across your skin.
>Figuring you ought to face your death when it comes, you stand up and move your arms and twist your body to be facing away from the wall again, before sitting down as if you hadn't moved.
>For a brief moment, you wonder if faking still being unconscious is a good idea.
>Probably not. If this is that nightmare horse, she'll probably just eat you if you were asleep.
>Face death. Don't be afraid.
“I'm not afraid.” You lie.
>You watch as the shadows lengthen and move. Even your own shadow stretches towards a single point in the centre of the once great hall. All of the shadow in the room reaching a pinpoint at the heart of the room, forming a single spot of complete darkness.
>As soon as it arrives, the shadows shrink again, and the darkness leaves.
>To be replaced only by that nightmare horse. The one that killed Celestia. The one that surely brought you here.
>You struggle against the chains in vain. You don't want to die. You don't want to...
>Once the creature of shadow and dark forms fully, she turns her gaze towards you.
>She, to your horror, is not best pleased with your presence here. Despite, y'know, it being her fault.
>Take a breath.
>Sigh.
>You're not afraid.
>You look her right in her deep blue eyes
“If you wish to kill me, get it over with.”
>”That's the thing Anonymous. I was sure I already had.”
>That was a strange response. The fury on her face has given way, at least partially, to confusion.
“And yet, here I stand.”
>”Sit, imprisoned. But I see your point. How are you here Anonymous?”
“What are you talking about? I don't even know what you are, creature.”
>She is clearly rather insulted by that. Her horn glows, and you're yanked back as some of the links attached to your manacles begin to disappear, yet you are still chained to the wall. As the chain shortens you are dragged back, until there is no way for your hands to move, and your hands are held over your head.
>”Have the years been so unkind to you Anonymous? No... You look even younger than you did a thousand years ago.”
>Okay. She was officially mentally ill. Perhaps the whole imprisoning you and killing Celestia should have tipped you off to that.
“Right. A thousand years. You know that I came to this place only.. What? Two weeks ago?”
>”Two weeks? No. No, even when I was here last you had been part of the Triarchy for at least twenty years.”
“Right. Okay. I am the only one of my kind in this fucking place. I have been here for two weeks. Two. Weeks.”
>You try and pull against your chains again, to no avail. You sigh.
“If you wish to kill me...”
>”Do not be so melodramatic.”
“That seems rich coming from Miss 'Teleports behind you'.”
>You might deserve the... kick? Whatever, punch from her.
>Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like a bitch.
>”A thousand years ago, you told me 'You get the world you deserve'. You promised you would stay neutral between me and Celestia.”
“I cannot stress enough, creature, that I do not know who you are. I do not know what you are. I do not know what possible beef you have with Celestia.”
>She growls. An animalistic sound that's low enough to be felt beneath your skin.
>”You know full well. But you promised neutrality. Why did you join her side?”
>You grit your teeth. Talking in complete circles was never fun.
“I don't know who you are. Can I ask that? Who are you?”
>For a moment her horn and eyes glow.
>Your head hurts. Images rush by your mind's eye too fast for you to make them out.
>And she seems to... Relax? Falter?
>You not quite sure how to describe it, but the fight has seemed to have left her.
>”You are not Anonymous.”
>Now you were somehow even more confused.
>”You wear his skin, you have taken his eyes, but you are not him.”
>You do not like that look in her eyes.
>And you definitely do not like the way her mane is stroking your chin. You flinch from the contact.
>”So what are you? Changeling? I still saw memories in there.”
>You shuffle back on the stones.
“I am Anonymous. Could you please tell me what the hell you are blabbering about? I am quite confused.”
>She looks you up and down, rolls her eyes and sighs.
>As she begins to trot away, her star-field of a tail flowing behind her, she begins to speak.
>”I am the night.”
>You snicker. Apparently your self-preservation instinct wasn't fully working.
>Her tail whips you in the face, and you wince as you feel the scar forming on your cheek.
>But that's all she does as she continues to rant.
>”I am the night. The first star and the last. Nightmare Moon.”
“Okay. Cool. Can I play 20 questions?”
>She doesn't respond, instead deciding just to stare through the collapsed roof towards the moon and stars.
>Take that as a yes.
“Where are we?”
>”My old castle. Before I was banished.”
>Okay. One question is going to lead into another then.
“Banished?”
>”A single word is not a question.”
“Why?”
>She turns and glares at you. You cough, hiding your grin.
>”My sister banished me to the moon, out of jealousy and to keep a tyrant's grip on her power.”
“Okay. Your sister is?”
>She growls again, but still only glares at you.
>”Princess Celestia. She of fire and pride. She who has always loathed me.”
>That... Doesn't exactly sound like the peaceful, perhaps melancholic monarch you meet.
>Also, Celestia has a sister?
>Perhaps you should've guessed that from the fact this mare had a horn and wings both.
>Then again, so did that other princess. Uhh... Cadance. That's it. And she and Celestia weren't sisters.
>Whatever, next question.
“Got it. So, did you kill her?”
>You'd rather she wasn't dead. You quite liked her.
>”Dead? No. She will watch as I do as I should have done a thousand years ago.”
>That was... Vague.
“And what is that?”
>She smiles.
>You've decided you do not like her smiles. Too much teeth. Showing off those fangs... It's like watching a shark smile.
>”The tyranny of the sun shall end. And I shall cast the world into an eternal night, so that all must look upon my work!”
>Okay. Celestia raises the sun. Well, she also lowers it, but everyone calls her the Princess of the Sun. So this sister of her's must raise the moon. And... also be in charge of the stars?
>Oh, and is obviously fucking mental.
“You do realise that will wipe out all life on this planet. Starting with the plant life, then the herbivores, until finally only the last few scavengers pick through the bones of their carcasses.”
>She waves that complaint off. No doubt she must've heard it before.
>”You don't understand. You understood once. Back then, you realised that once I got what I wanted I would allow dawn to come when necessary.”
“Ignoring the whole 'I was somehow around a thousand years ago' crap, who are you to decide is enough?”
>She kicks you in the face again, squarely in the right eye. You shout and scream in pain as you are unable to apply pressure to the wound, only able to try and force your eye closed.
>Definitely feels like a black eye.
>You're quiet for a few seconds as you work through the pain.
>Eventually you speak again.
“Why am I here?”
>”Here? In this castle? Or here, in this world?”
“Either would be nice.”
>She huffs and turns away from you, to return to glaring up at the moon, as if it might help her answer the question.
>”I could not answer the latter for you no more than you could answer the latter for me. For the former? Because I thought you were the Anonymous I knew. Or perhaps you still are, and you do not know?”
>Enough of this.
“You do realise I am the only one of my kind ever here right? You'd think Celestia would remember if there was another one of my kind that happened to have the exact the same name running around? That the history books might have recorded this incredible last of his species guy?”
>”I was there. Not like you imposter. Anonymous, the real one, was one of the Three Triarchs of the New Minotaur Kingdom, Labyrinthia.”
“Right. And the Minotaurs would conveniently forget all about this human being. You know I've actually talked to the Minotaur ambassador at Canterlot, right? You know he gloats all the time from descending from one of those three guys. And you know, he never mentioned that a human was one of them.”
>”I have been gone for... A thousand years.”
>The nightmare horse of shadows and night trotted away briefly for a second, turning away from both you and the moon, her head lowered.
>She shook her head and mane before turning her wroth to you.
>”A thousand years! Historians have never been the most accurate!”
“It'd be hard to miss a detail like that...”
>The Nightmare horse grits her teeth. Then smiles.
>You do not like her smiles.
>”I remember. I remember perfectly. And so perhaps you can too...”
>Her horn glows. You try to shuffle back, but you've long run out of room to get away.
>Something strikes your head, and darkness envelopes you once more.

~=~

>You oversee the fire. Documents are thrown in haphazardly, quickly. Everything you and your country had done while you had been Ambassador, every receipt and every bribe had to go, and quickly.
>You had not been officially recalled from diplomatic service by your brothers, but you'd figure if they were going to execute you they would have done it years ago.
>You hear the sound of metal against stone outside. You could guess who. You turn to one of your aides, the minotauraus Tuslagch.
“Keep going. I'll stop her.”
>You turn and make your way to the door of the embassy moments before the wroth mare of the moon barges in. You open it a crack and speak.
“Crossing that threshold without permission will start an international incident, Princess Luna. State your business.”
>The Blue Pony, Princess of the moon and stars or some other pompous title glares at you.
>”Then might you come outside, so that we might talk without the door in the way?”
>You sigh. Fuck it
>You leave the apparent safety of the embassy and step into the cool Everfree air. The plaza is completely deserted. Most of the other nations had withdrawn their ambassadors days ago, when it became apparent the two sisters could not be reconciled.
>You still had to officially wait for a command from your brothers, who were thousands of miles away. Letters, it seemed, took time to arrive.
“Well?”
>”I need your help.”
>For a moment, you seriously take in the Princess of the moon, and co-ruler of the most powerful nation on the planet.
>She did not look well. Her mane was unwashed, her glances fleeting and her gaze constantly shifting. She seemed to be chewing on nothing and had dark circles beneath her eyes
>You towered over her, but that might be because she was hunched over in fear.
“Officially, the nation of Labyrinthia has declared strict neutrality on all matters. We have...”
>”I did not ask for your nation's help. I asked for yours.”
>That makes you pause, makes you halt your pre-planned speech.
“Luna. This is folly. Come to your senses. Please.”
>”Folly! They don't...”
>She grits her teeth and almost spits out whatever words she was holding back.
“Luna. For god's sake, just talk it out with your sister. She'd understand.”
>”I've done enough grovelling to her. No more!”
>You roll your eyes and crouch down to look her directly in the eyes.
“Look. Luna. I get it. Well, I don't. I like my adoptive brothers. I also know I'll never be as well known as them. They get to, you know, rule, while I am stuck here. But that isn't the point...”
>Oh shit. Some fucking diplomat you were.
“Right. The point is... Take your fucking lumps? No that doesn't sound right.”
>”You help me Anonymous, I shall install you as sole ruler of Labyrinthia.”
>Oh fuck.
>You seriously consider it.
>You had devoted nearly twenty-five years to turning the tribe you got enslaved by when you arrived into this strange world into a nation. You had worked with your only two surviving brothers to turn them from brothers who would kill each other to sit upon a wooden throne and rule two hundred Minotaurs into two of the three kings of Labyrinthia. Only for you to be thrown aside because you would never be able to have an heir.
>You could rule a nation. You could be called the fucking king...
>No.
>No. You had no legacy in this place. Trying to be king wouldn't change that. There was... No point really. Your brothers were right to send you here.
“No.”
>”No!”
>She does not sound best pleased.
“No. I don't... There's no point. Not for me. And look, maybe things are bad now. But if you...”
>”If not for me, will you support Celestia.”
>That... Was a dangerous question.
>By all accounts, the coming civil war between the two divine sisters was going to be a bloody one. One that Labryinthia, having just finished the twenty years of war needed to unify it, could ill afford to take part in.
>Plus, you sincerely doubted the rumours that Luna was planning to send the world into eternal darkness. No doubt that was Pro-Celestia propaganda.
“Absolutely not. Complete neutrality from us.”
>”And you yourself? You will stay out of this?”
>The question confuses you. What difference is there between the two?
“Yeah? I have no intention in getting between two god-like beings fighting for control of the most powerful nation on the planet. What am I? Suicidal?”

~=~
>You have decided to intervene in a battle between two god-like beings fighting for control of not just the most powerful nation on the planet, but also the fate of all life on the planet.
>In short, you were a moron. But a moron who figured his chances of death in battle was still lower than certain death by starvation.
>Celestia, annoyingly, wasn't here yet.
>So that left you, standing atop the highest point of the castle, because of drama apparently, trying to talk down a mad goddess before her sister arrived to kick her ass.
>The night's sky was fractured. Completely alien. Strange nebulas, twin moons, black holes and pulsating stars appeared for a moment only to fade into dust the next. You were pretty sure all this solar activity was definitely going to give you cancer, but you could worry about that if you managed to get off this roof alive.
>You spot the mad goddess of the night. She looks completely different from her normal self. Shadows form around her, she's wearing heavy armour, and her mane is somehow even more ethereal.
>You grip onto the nearest spire for dear fucking life.
“Hi, Luna!”
>As stupid an opening line as that was to a pissed off goddess of night, it did work in drawing her attention.
>Hey is her horn glowing?
>You collapse, your knees giving way as a bolt of light passes through your abdomen.
>Huh.
>Can't feel your legs.
>Can smell burning though. That's... Probably not a good sign.
>Don't look down...
>Don't look down...
>You look.
>There's a small hole in your shirt, right in the centre of your stomach. Smoke and steam rises from around the hole. You watch your own chest in morbid fascination as Luna begins to speak.
>”Anonymous? I thought you were... Never mind.”
>She returns her mad glare to the sky, towards the chaos of the heavens above. You're pretty sure you just saw a gamma-ray burst up there.
>It would be pretty if it weren't so terrifying.
“Can we talk?”
>You want to, even as bad as it hurts. You cough into your hand.
>”What is there to say Anonymous? Celestia has fled. I will finally get the recognition and worship I deserve.”
“Okay, then what? Will you condemn us all to die?”
>She tears her fury from the sky to you once more and trots towards you. He eyebrows furrowed, her eyes glowing with shadowed intent.
>”When all have accepted me, then I shall allow there to be dawn. We shall hold out for as long as that takes.”
>You groan as you try and shuffle up the spire you're leaning against, but it's difficult without working legs.
>Also, you can taste iron in your mouth. That's not a good sign.
“Rule by fear. Worse. By hatred. That'll go well.”
>You grit your teeth as a calm wind flows through you. The experience is entirely unpleasant and confirms your worst fears about your injury.
>A wry smile plays upon your lips. Nothing left other than to stop this madness. You owed your brothers that much.
“Fuck you, Luna. You want to be loathed as all life dies around you go ahead, confirm what they whisper about you behind your back true?”
>”You dare speak to me this way! I am a goddess! We control the heavens! All of creation is mine to command!”
“Then keep doing this. Become the monster they think you are. Prove them right, Nightmare Moon.”
>”You wouldn't understand. You're alone in this world by design. You are supposed to be alone Anonymous! You will never have companionship or love, so you have learnt to live without it! Ignored what you will never hold.”
>She roars, and tears stream down her face.
>”You are a spiteful, ill-made creature that doesn't belong here. You cannot comprehend that some of us need to be recognised for what they have done for others!”
“Hey. You get the world you deserve. I've clearly done something to deserve this...”
>You gesture to your immobile body, to the hole in your chest you do not want to see.
“And you? You deserve everything you've got coming to you.”
>You glance behind the wroth mare, and spot the goddess of the sun, decked out in full regalia, glowing with power.
“Aren't delaying tactics great? Enjoy exile.”

>The memory begins to fade. For it is surely not your own. It's hers. You were never on that roof. Never had a hole in your chest. You were never...
>Your vision widens again.
>You look down slightly at your chest, smoking and steaming. It feels unnaturally warm. And you're finding it hard to breathe.
>But it is not you. It isn't you. You were Anonymous. Not Anonymous.
>Not Anonymous.
>So why is your chest hurting?
>Why can you feel the wind flowing atop the castle?
>Why do you feel old?
>You try to formulate the words to describe this sensation. Not quite a memory, not quite a dream.
>But your mouth moves without your consent.

“Is it done?”
>Celestia moves towards you, her will broken.
>”Yes.”
>The word was quiet, near silence. But it seemed to roar above the wind.
>You, without meaning to, look up. The maddening field of stars and stellar phenomena faded to a normal night's sky. The only change was the moon. You cannot help but noticed the crater seas upon it, in the shape of a horse's head.
>”What have I done?”
>The question is silent, but you can still hear it all the same. You try to stand, try to reach out to comfort the divine leader of a nation you were not and never would be a part of.
>But you cannot.
“I.. Sorry. I'm afraid to look. Can you help me a second?”
>That seems to break Celestia out of her moment, and she trots over to you. She lifts up your shirt with her teeth and immediately drops it with a gasp.
“Not good?”
>”Anon...”
>You laugh bitterly to yourself.
“Well. There's a first time for everything right? Sort of deserve it I think.”
>You cough.
“I should have done more.”
>”I should have done more. Anon. I can't...”
“Don't worry about it. I knew what I was getting in for when I offered to distract her.”
>You sigh. You weren't afraid.
“When will she be back?”
>”A thousand years.”
>You laugh to yourself, which only agitates your burns, and widens the hole in your chest. You can feel liquid drip onto your nice shirt.
“Well, there's no way I'd have been around for her to still be mad about that.”
>Celestia honestly tries to crack a smile on her face. She wasn't very good at it.
>”It was the earliest I could do.”
“That was the earliest? I...”
>You throw up in your mouth a little.
>It's time.
“Princess Celestia. There's a letter in my shirt. Make sure it gets back to Labyrinthia. I hope it didn't get burnt. Oh, I hope...”
>With shaking hands you try to reach into your shirt, but Celestia calmly places her right hoof against your hand.
>”It'll get there.”
>You smile weakly.
“Okay. Hey...”
>Your vision narrows.
>You're afraid. You don't want to go to sleep. You're afraid you won't wake up.
>But you shouldn't let her know that.
“Could you raise the sun? I haven't seen it for a week. I think everyone else wants to see it too.”
>You try to smile, but it hurts a little to do so.
>She nods and turns away.
>Okay Anon. It's no big deal. It was going to happen at some point. You knew that. You've always known that.
>You hoped you'd be back home, surrounded by your family. But you don't always get your way. Maybe you'll see them soon.
>You turn to the east, towards the hills and the high mountain. Then turn up slightly.
>You try to smile and close your eyes as the first rays of the sun warm your face one last time.
>You can feel your definitions fading. You're losing your grip on yourself. You open your eyes. And admit something, quietly, to the wind and silence.
“I'm scared.”
>You shiver as the sun rises. You shiver for as long as you can, shaking there on the roof, trying to stay here.
>But your eyelids are heavy. Your muscles weak. And slowly...
>You let go.

~=~

>And somewhere, in that darkness, you claw your way back, though death, eternity and time.
>You flinch as you snap awake. You desperately try to reach for your abdomen, try and confirm it's whole, but the chains around your wrists are far too short.
>When you are unable to reach it, you take a few sharp breaths. Air enters your lungs without discomfort or difficulty, and you relax a little, slumping down and releasing your tension.
>You glance upwards, towards the hole in the roof of the castle.
>The very roof that you... Imagined you had just died upon.
>Imagined? It had felt so real. It was no dream. Or at least, no normal dream. More akin to the ones you had been having since you had arrived in this strange land. But more lucid. More real. More tangible.
>A memory? A memory that wasn't yours, and yet was?
>Your temple hurts again. You try and sit up, just so your hands can reach your temple, but that is a painful manoeuvre to try.
>A voice breaks the silence and your desperate attempts to move.
>Nightmare Moon appears from the shadows and begins to trot towards you, looming over your chained form.
>”You were under a longer time than I expected. Had to go out for a bit. Well, Anonymous? Do you see?”
>Do I see?
>”Do you remember? What foul trickery you...”
“If that was me, I remember you blasting a hole in my chest. You can hardly blame me for what happened after that.”
>She smiles. A foul thing, teeth and malice both on display.
>She leans closer to you, and for a terrible moment, you fear she will take a chunk out of your face.
>”You get the world you deserve Anonymous.”
>You grit your teeth.
“So. You... Was that real?”
>For a moment confusion flashes across her face, but it passes soon enough.
>”Yes! I was there!”
“Yeah. But how the hell was I? An older me, but...”
>You consider the possibilities, mainly to try and ignore the insane horse with nearly every reason to kill you.
>Time Travel? Maybe that was future you?
>No. You felt his memories. He had the same as yours before you arrived here, but he did not remember meeting Celestia, at least in the same way. He didn't remember arriving in Twilight's study. He did remember this moment.
>He remembered appearing in the middle of a desert and being taken captive by some Minotaurs, before becoming so invaluable to the dying chief of that tribe he was adopted. That was not you.
>Surely it wasn't you.
>”It doesn't matter. You are him, deny it as you might.”
> You're dragged out of your head-space by those words.
“So what. Are you going to kill me? Again?”
>Nightmare Moon roared with laughter.
>”Hardly. That didn't work last time, did it? No. You will watch the eternal night. There will be no abating this time. That had been my folly. I tried to compromise, but you and the foul Sun imprisoned me for a millennia. So there will be no sun. Never again.”
>Okay. That might be a problem.
“I feel like I've said this before Nightmare Moon. But you will wipe out all life on the planet should you do that.”
>”You create the world you deserve. If I deserved to be on the moon, conscious, but unable to move, for a thousand years, then surely that is all I deserve. All the world should be.”
>Her logic physically hurts you, more than your black eye, phantom pain in your lower chest or your temples burning.
“That's... fuck me, how could you have spent a thousand years alone, only able to think on what you have done, and have learnt that lesson from your exile?”
>She ignores you, content to simply watch the moon from this empty, ruined castle.
>You sigh and try one last time to free yourself from these chains.
>That fails.
“You know. That... Let's call him another version of me, not that either of us agree that's the case...”
>The Nightmare horse turns to you, confusion etched on her face.
>”Are you getting to a point, or do you simply enjoy the sound of your own voice?”
“Little of Column A, little of Column B. Fine, let me start over.”
>You cough and collect yourself.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
>It's your turn to stare. Your turn to challenge a mad goddess. There was probably no backup this time. You were not a delaying tactic for another Goddess to finish her off. As far as you know, it's just you. And her.
>She shakes her head.
>”I do not need to speak to you. Justify myself to you. You are nothing. You have always been nothing. Except alone.”
>You titter, but sit up straighter. You square your shoulders and speak again.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
>”We are Nightmare Moon. Queen of the Cosmos, Goddess of the night. She of the moon and Shadowed things! We will bring about the eternal night!”
>You shake your head, and sit up straighter.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
>She grows angrier, trotting towards you. Away from the moonbeams streaming through the ancient ruined ceiling of the great hall.
>”We are the last light! We will make Celestia pay for what she did to us! What you did to us!”
>You move to stand, ignoring the fury burning on a mad goddesses face and instead focusing on getting back onto your feet.
>And finally, with your wrists still chained behind your back, you stand eye to eye with a goddess that might destroy you with a thought.
>And you challenge her.
“Who are you. What do you want.”
>Her ethereal mane flows behind her, her teeth bared. Her eyes boring into your own.
>”And who are you Anonymous? What do you want?”
“I am Anonymous. Just a guy. I want to go home. And you?”
>”I...”
>She pauses. She seems to mull the question over in her mind. Something like regret passes over that mad face. Something like dread.
>And then you hear a door open far behind her. The great doors of the hall slam open. The moment is gone, and Nightmare Moon turns, only to kick you solidly in the chest with her back legs. You crumple to the floor, dazed and winded, coughing.
>Blood splatters against the stones as you do so.
>You can barely focus on anything else other than the pain in your chest. Certainly not the six ponies that had arrived to challenge the mad goddess. Certainly not whatever they were blabbering about, or the pieces of stone that broke.
>You cough again.
>Then things start to get a bit strange.
>Well, stranger than everything else that had happened today, which frankly was starting to get ridiculous.
>Those six ponies, which included at least one you recognised, then started to levitate or something.
>You weren't entirely sure, you were pretty sure you had a broken rib right now.
>Well, then their eyes started to glow. And that surely could not have been a good thing.
>Wait, are they wearing what Celestia was wearing...
>Something clicks in your head, and you make sure you aren't...
>Nope, you are right behind Nightmare Moon. Which meant if she was going to be hit by...
>Twilight's horn glows.
>Great. A fucking laser beam. Well, you knew it was coming at some point.
“Fuck”
>And all becomes white.

~=~

>You know. You always thought it was going to be a fricken laser beam that would eventually kill you. It happened to that Other you, whatever his deal was. Makes sense it would be your doom too.
>Well, let's see what afterlife you got then.
>You notice, happily, that the pain in your ribs, around your eye and on your cheek has gone. You aren't dressed in formal white and gold, but in...
>Well, nothing. Makes sense I guess? Does heaven or hell have a no shoes, no shirt, no service policy?
>God, you hope not.
>Shit, better cut back on the blasphemy.
>Making a promise you will in no way keep, you finally decide to take in your surroundings.
>To your surprise, you seem to be under a duvet...
>A familiar one.
>It's warm. It's cosy. It's...
>Home.
>You shoot up out of bed, and it was your bed.
>You were in the spare room of your parent's house. Blank white walls, a single window.
>And out of that window, snow was falling. Softly, calmly.
>Cautiously you make your way out of bed, towards that window, and look outside.
>An oak tree stands, covered in snow. Three cars in the driveway. Your parents, and your own.
>The sun was low, barely there at all. And you were surrounded in a cul-de-sac.
>You nearly gasp in joy. You were home. Safe. Well, not your house. But your parent's at least. It was better than an ancient decaying castle in an ancient forest with none of your kind around.
>Throwing on a dressing gown, you make your way carefully down the stairs.
>You still don't know if this is some purgatory, or if some demon was going to jump out and start explaining your ironic hell.
>But everything was the same. The landing light wasn't working. The steps creaking far too loud to be reasonable.
>It felt like home. Looked like home. Even smelt like it.
>So why the unease? Why the doubt gnawing at the back of your skull?

>You manage to find yourself in the dining room, though you could not say how. Nor how you were dressed.
>But there they were. Your parents. A warm cooked dinner sitting on the table.
>”Nice of you to join us.”
>Mum smiles, and you smile back and roll your eyes. Content to ignore that sense of ill-ease, you sit down, between the two opposite ends.
>All that stuff about Ponies, and magic, and Mad goddesses and past lives. It had all been a dream. A dream that you had, inside your spare room.
>Surely it had been. You were here now.
>You tuck in, a barely a word passes between the three of you.
>Until finally, your dad says something that you cannot quite make out.
>You turn to him.
“Sorry?”
>”I said you've got to wake up Anon.”
>No. Oh please no.
“Dad. I am awake. Come on. Let's just eat this...”
>”You have to wake up and remember. Whether you like it or not.”
>You slam your knife and fork onto the table.
“I. Am. Awake. Now... Let's tuck in. Come on Dad. Let's talk about work. Let's share a beer and talk about sports or...”
>You turn to him. His expression blank. Devoid of life. You shiver slightly and turn desperately to your mother.
“Come on. Mum? We can talk about books? Or how shitty politics are? You can even bug me about grand-kids... Anything?”
>Your desperation does nothing to stop their stares. Nothing to help you deny the truth.
“Please. I don't want to go back. I've been there for... So long.”
>Your voice is barely above a whisper.
“I'm tired of it.”
>You're not entirely sure where that came from, but in some deep, unreachable part of yourself, it was true. You felt so tired.
“Please. I don't want to go back.”
>But your pleas are met only with silence. The only noise being the ringing within your head, growing steadily louder with every passing second.
>Something was wrong with you.
>When you woke up, you were going to find out exactly what was going on. But that meant letting go of this place. And going back.
>You want to say something to your parents. Something to abate their fears. Or maybe your own.
>But they are only shadows.
>And you are gone.

~=~

>You awaken back to a pain in your ribs, a black eye, and a cut on your cheek.
>You sigh quietly to yourself, before noticing at the very least your chains have gone
>You turn your head towards the centre of the great hall once more, and just as moonlight is slowly replaced by the early dawn rays of the sun, you see a small blue... Unicorn/Pegasus. Wait. Alicorn. That was the word.
>It was a tiny thing. At least compared to the only other three you...
>Where was Nightmare Moon? Had she been banished to the moon again? That would suck for her.
>You move to stand, but your knees are weak.
>Arms are heavy.
>There's blood on your shirt already.
>You barely have the chance to move before a certain lavender unicorn rushes you.
>”Anonymous! Are you all right? Did Nightmare Moon...”
>Her tone is worried, and it doesn't sound like it was about the fact you had a broken rib.
>”...Do things to you.”
>Huh?
>Oh wait. World of the Matriarchy.
“No. I wasn't raped if that's what you are asking, thank you.”
>You struggle to stand, and you quietly thank Twilight as helps you to your feet.
>A beam of intense sunlight appears, and you are forced to look away for a second before glancing back.
>Celestia has appeared, and the small Alicorn has rushed her for a hug, crying.
>Was that tiny thing Luna? The original, and not the Mad Nightmare?
>You take a few sharp breaths.
>Something was wrong with you. Something was going on. You were there a thousand years ago, and you were here now.
>And Celestia had known. And had kept completely silent.
>You narrow your eyes at the Goddess of the Sun, the one you thought you liked at least.
>Just what secrets was that immortal hiding?
>And worse.
>What if she was right to hide them?

~=~

>Weeks have passed
>Turns out they really were paranoid about your physical state. Something about 'Weak Male constitution' or something.
>Part of you thinks it's really to keep you away from Luna, in case either of you gets tempted to kill the other.
>Again
>Well, at least in her case
>You are now almost certain Celestia knows about that version of yourself from a thousand years ago.
>Whether she knew you knew was not so certain. The tiny alicorn in the rough shape of that Princess you saw in that memory knew you knew. If she told Celestia.
>Honestly, thinking along these lines hurt more than the broken ribs and a black eye.
>One bonus of staying in the
>Sigh
>Horsepital
>Is that you have access to as many sleeping pills as you could possibly need. Sure, you couldn't self medicate, but that was pretty dangerous anyway. Better let the Vets deal with it.
>Oh yeah, since you were not one of the prissy pony people, Celestia had brought in the best Veterinarians from across Equestria to look after what only needed a few weeks of sitting carefully and maybe an icepack.
>Well, maybe a cast.
>You were pleased to learn the Pony vets of this world did not do what human vets did to horses who broke bones.
>You would hope dying once was enough.
>Anyway, there was only so much
>Sigh
>Horsepital food you could stomach. It had been hard enough to eat at the Castle, where you could at least eat meals for griffon diplomats, but here it was nuts, berries, veg and jelly.
>As if you needed to be any skinnier.
>Anyway, today your cast was being taken off. Only a few more days in this place and you'd be...
>Probably back to work.
>Well, all good
>Mediocre
>All mediocre things must come to an end.
>”All right Mr Anonymous. Hold your breath and try not to exhale. We don't want to cut your chest open.”
>You shoot the nurse pony an evil look but comply.
>She titters, before levitating a fucking buzz-saw.
>You hold your breath just a little bit harder. Sucking in your gut as much as possible.
>She starts to cut open the cast near your groin, and you wince until the saw is long past your abdomen.
>Well, it's still getting close to your head, but you take the good with the bad in life.
>You lean your head back and close your eyes as the Buzz-saw makes its final run up your chest.
>The sawing stops and the saw is held away from you, and you let out the breath you were holding.
>You sit up in the bed, scratching your chest at long last after two weeks of having to use a sharp stick or one of the nurses.
>Oh god it felt good.
>You chance a look down.
>A blue and black bruise blotches your skin a few ribs below your heart, but the pain is only a minor discomfort compared to a broken rib.
>”Will that be all...”
>That sounded... Strange. You chance a glance at the nurse.
>Whoa. Bedroom eyes.
>That freaks you the fuck out, but there is far too much telemetry equipment attached to you for you to move far.
“Yes... thank you. That will be all.”
>You hear her huff and turn away and immediately look away, less you get another face full of mare vag again.
“I've got to get out of this place.”
>But you weren't due for release for a few days.
>And if you were frank with yourself, you weren't getting out of here on your own.
>No one you knew was going to help you escape.
>So you lean back and look at the ceiling.
>And try and fall asleep.

~=~

>You don't sleep.
>You just dream.
>And they are... Unpleasant.
>Dying over and over and over again is a foul experience, especially when it felt so real. You remember being shot by lasers; you remember being chopped apart by savages, you remember jumping off cliffs and even once or twice dying of old age.
>You awake at night, the rain splattering against the Window in your room.
>As always, as tired as when you went to sleep.
>You stand shakingly looking out into the courtyard of the
>Sigh.
>Horsepital.
>Why it is raining at high summer you could not say. Then again, the weather in this place was hardly natural. Perhaps it was merely scheduled.
>You stare into the night, towards the unblemished moon. It was so large, it was as if it had not merely risen, but swallowed the sun.
>The sound of a creaking door snaps you from the moment, and you turn towards the soft light streaming in from the hallway outside your room.
>In that same doorway stands her.
>You can recognise her by just her silhouette. Short, but with both a wing and horn.
“Are you here to finish the job?” You ask sarcastically, turning to offer up your chest as target practice.
>For once, you are dressed, if only in a hospital gown that seems to purposefully not cover your chest.
>Luna waits in the doorway.
>”I...”
>She's nervous.
>Afraid.
>Of you? You weren't sure.
“Shall I take that as a no?”
>She nodded her head and trotted inside, closing the door behind her. Once again, the room was now only lit by the moon.
“I'd offer a cup of tea or something, but they were afraid I'd pour hot water down my cast.”
>”We do not need tea.”
“We? Should I expect more of you? It was weird that your sister never came to visit...”
>”We is just me.”
“Confusing.”
>She stammers briefly, before continuing.
>”Her lack of presence is why we have come now.”
“That's an exceptionally painful way of saying that.”
>She shakes her head, her mane flowing with her.
>”First... We're sorry for kicking you. And for the black eye. And for the scar.”
“Time heals all wounds. It's nothing.”
>She doesn't want to accept that answer. You can read it just about on her moonlit face.
“I mean, thank you. Apology accepted. Sorry for...”
>”You have nothing to apologise for”.
“Didn't I help trap you on the moon for a thousand years?”
>”Did you? That is why we are here.”
>This piques your interest. You move to get closer to her, wincing slightly at the raw bone in your chest.
>You nearly stumble to the floor, but she rushes forth and lets you use her as a something to lean on for a moment.
>A genuine smile plays on your face as you scratch behind her ears and stand on your own.
“Thanks.”
>She seems to shiver for a moment before continuing.
>”You're... I am here to get you out of here.”
>I am?
>Also, get me out of here?
“Really?”
>She's all business now, her previous expression of contentment gone in a moment.
>”We asked our sister how it was that the same beast, the only one of its kind, was here both a thousand years prior and now, and she was unwilling or unable to tell us. This question has been plaguing us since we... Returned. And we've no doubt it has been plaguing you too?”
“That's an understatement. So you're breaking me out of here?”
>”Breaking out is a coltish exaggeration Anonymous. We shall merely be walking out.”
>You shake your head and grin.
“Why hadn't I tried that. Lead the way.”
>You gesture towards the door, and the diminutive alicorn nods, trotting towards it.
>Trying to follow after her, you cannot help but notice your legs are weak from weeks of bedrest.
>You fall forwards, and once again the Princess and Goddess of the moon and night sky rushes beneath you to support your weight.
>You pat her side as you try to stand up again.
“I may need some help here.”

>The two of you walk out of the...
>Last time I promise
>Sigh
>Horsepital
>You're leaning pretty heavily on the midnight mare, your feet shuffling against the earth,
>The stars shine above as you leave through the front door, onto the cobblestone streets of Canterlot.
>The rain hasn't stopped though, washing your hair far better than the nurses in the horsepital did.
“You know... You don't look like you did in that memory. I mean before you became Nightmare Moon.”
>The alicorn you're leaning for support seems to shiver upon hearing that.
>”We... We are weak and unready from a thousand years of being trapped within our own head.”
“Trapped within your own head? Are you saying that Nightmare Moon wasn't you?”
>”I... We... We were consumed by hatred. By envy.”
“But it was you. It was you that did those things.”
>”No. It was Nightmare Moon.”
“Who is you. Like or not, it was you that tried to bring about Eternal night.”
>”Celestia told me, once we came back, that we were possessed by some malevolent presence. While some of its initial actions may have been our fault, it was the beast that took it too far.”
>You shook your head, thoroughly unconvinced.
>The two of you continue the long walk towards the castle in near silence.
>The guards at the gate take one look at the two of you and allow you to pass, to enter the great castle.
“How's it been. You know. Adapting to all of this.”
>”It's about as difficult as it must surely be for thee.”
“Hmm...”
>The two of you slowly climb the grand staircase.
>”Are thee able to get to your own room?”
>You sigh and shake your head.
“I'm pretty sure I'm going to collapse. I also barely know where it is. Usually, another Butler or maid just leads me to it at the end of the day. This place is a labyrinth.”
>”That it is.”
>It's her turn to sigh.
>”Come on then. We hope you can sleep at the foot of a bed.”
“I don't...”
>”Don't start.”
>You shake your head and grin as you allow yourself to be dragged through the castle.
“Imagine the gossip if you are seen. What will the papers say?”
>”We would imagine congratulations on securing a new mate. Don't get any ideas.”
>Your eyes bulge out, and you try desperately to appear nonchalant.
“The furthest thing from my mind.”
>Eventually the two of you come across a navy blue door with a moon painted upon it.
>”The interior decorators of this castle are fast.”
“Yeah, they are. I had a room my size ready for me day one.”
>That draws a confused look from the small horse, but she shrugs and opens the door with her telekinesis.
>The two of you shuffle in.
>You stretch and stop leaning on her, stumbling slightly to your full height.
“So. We both want to know how exactly I was there a thousand years ago. How are we to find out?”
>You sit down on a chair that is a few sizes too small for you as the alicorn readies itself to jump into bed.
>”Celestia knows. We both know that. She will not tell either of us, however. She will see thee tomorrow no doubt, and when she is distracted by your presence and return, we will sneak into her room and try and find anything she has written down on the matter.”
“We both will? I can't be in two places at once?” You tease.
>She scrunches her nose.
>”I. I will break in. Is that better?”
“It's certainly more clear. But surely anything she has written on that Other me is a thousand years old and even the paper it is written on has decayed to dust. I doubt she is keeping that lying around.”
>”That isn't what we are looking for. No doubt your return here and now, after a thousand years, has brought up memories for her. Her current diary or journal should suffice. If she is honest with herself.”
“If she's anything like thou, perhaps we shouldn't hold our breath. And I meant we. Plural.”
>”Are thee still annoyed we kicked you? We apologised.”
“You also paralysed and killed me. Future me? Other me? I don't know.”
>”Well. As you said Anonymous. That wasn't you.”
>Finally a smile appears on her melancholic face, and you cannot help but return it.
“And as you said. None of that was you. Apparently.”
>”There we go.”
>You raise a crooked eyebrow.
“There we go.”
>Groaning, you lean back into the small chair, clicking your back as you did so.
>And you prepare for another night of uncomfortable, dream-filled sleep.

~=~

>You can barely keep your eyes opened as you sip carefully on camomile tea and nibble on biscuits.
>Dark rings stay beneath your eyes, and occasionally you have to shake your head to stay awake.
>For the first time someone else had to dress you, the castle staff now aware you were back, and Celestia eager to catch up for tea in her personal tea room.
>”I'm sorry I didn't visit you in horsepital Anonymous. I was quite busy with Luna. But I kept up with your condition.”
>You shake yourself out of your thoughts and smile softly.
“Don't worry. It was very minor, really. Not even any internal bleeding. I've had worse.”
>She flinches ever so slightly with those last words, and your eyes narrow slightly in suspicion.
“How is your sister? After all that unpleasantness?”
>Celestia raises an eyebrow at you.
>”I had rather thought you would know. You came back here with her last night.”
>Far from pleasant, her tone was almost accusatory. Almost jealous, of all things. This didn't quite sit well with you.
“She just took me back from the hospital. More of a taxi service and apology than a deep conversation between two peers.”
>Celestia nods to herself and levitates a small slice of coffee cake, and begins to nibble on it.
>It was almost cute, but you weren't to be distracted. If Luna was getting information by thievery, you shall by interrogation.
>Questioning.
>Sure.
>You cough to clear your throat and shoot the goddess of the Sun a hopefully charming look, just after scratching the bruise on your chest beneath your shirt and waistcoat.
“You know. Nightmare Moon mentioned something interesting. When she wasn't madly ranting about the stars and all that.”
>Celestia gulps, but smiles softly, turning to stare you right in the eyes.
>”Did she? The creature that possessed my sister was a mad thing of malice and envy. I doubt you should take anything it might say as fact.”
>Nice cover.
“Oh. No doubt.”
>You take a bite of cake. It's good stuff. If you weren't dead tired and intensely focused on this conversation you might have said so out loud.
>You hold up your hand to cover your mouth and begin to speak.
“However. It was weird it bothered to kidnap me. Said it remembered me.”
>Celestia glances to her left and right, her expression worried before she sits up slightly straighter and smiles.
>”That is strange. Maybe it was watching you from the Moon?”
>You smile slightly. An unpleasant smile, which you quickly remove.
“Maybe. But then, and here's the weird thing, she started ranting about it was partly my fault she was up there. I told her that was impossible, that I had only been here three weeks. But she wouldn't hear it.”
>Celestia leans forwards and keeps that soft smile on her face, even as you slightly furrow your brow. She lifts her two front hooves up, placing her... Elbows? Whatever, placing her knees on the table.
>”Perhaps she was merely confused. A strange male. You know, there was a Minotaur back then.”
>Now we are getting somewhere.
“A Minotaur?”
>”Yes. He was one of the three joint Kings of Labyrinthia, but due to some problems with inheritance he found himself the ambassador to Equestria at the time.”
“Did he? Well. What did he do?”
>Celestia swallows.
>”He... At the time, distracted Nightmare Moon long enough for me to use the elements of harmony to banish her to the moon.”
>You eat another bit of cake to hide your grin.
“And thaen?”
>Celestia, surprisingly, doesn't leap at the chance to stop the conversation to tell you off for talking with your mouth full and actually answers the question.
>”He... Died. I didn't notice at first. I should have done more. Should have gotten him to a healer. I thought... He asked me to raise the sun. I thought simply because he wanted to see it again. But I know it was so I wouldn't watch him die. Shaking. Cold. Alone.”
>She sounds close to genuine tears, and all thought of grilling the Princess for the truth leave you as you drop the cake and kneel beside her, patting the Alicorn on the back.
>”Thousands of miles from home. He shouldn't have even been there. I could have done it myself.”
>You rub her mane, unable to speak as she pours her heart out to you.
>”I heard his last words. He said he was afraid. I never forgave myself for putting you there.”
>Your eyes bulge as you hear those last words.
>As Celestia begins to cry softly, your mind repeats those words over and over again.
>Putting you there.
>She doesn't seem to have noticed she said that.
“What was his name?”
>Will she break and admit Anonymous?
>” Nergüi. Nergüi the clever they call him now.”
>No. She won't.
>Had she manipulated historical records to make sure your name was never recorded? That the fact you were no Minotaur, but a man, would never be known?
“And Luna. Nightmare Moon, sorry, thought this Minotaur was me?”
>Celestia looks up. Her eyes are ever so slightly bloodshot. She sniffles after taking a good look at your face.
>”She... Must have been confused. There is no resemblance between you and the dead Minotaur on that roof a thousand years ago.”
>Strangely, you get the sense she is telling the truth.
>You sit back down opposite her after a final pat and rub on the back.
“Sorry. For bringing it up I mean.”
>Celestia looks torn, wanting to say one thing but forced to say another. You can see the regal mask she wears for her subjects crumbling, but she's desperately trying to hold it together.
“We all have to go at some point. As terrified as he may have been to go, he did it to help save the world. That's a better death than most can ask for. I could...”
>Stop right there.
>Do not say 'I could only hope for that kind of death' you fucking moron.
>Celestia looks up at you, desperately. Perhaps hopefully.
>Fuck it. Speech.
“We're all afraid you know? Constantly. Every moment of our lives we live in fear of the end. Some can ignore it. For others, it's constant. But in that last moment... There's an unmistakable relief.”
>You're not quite sure where this is coming from, but you can hardly stop now.
“That you've done all you can on this earth. That it's up to others to carry the burden of life and legacy now. That at last, and for the very first time, you are free. And you can just... Let go.”
>You place your elbow upon the table and hold your hand up to gesture.
“No more struggle. No more pain. You've done what you can, you gave it your best shot. For good or ill, it's over. The war was lost. The treaty signed. You can go home.”
>You reach over and take her hoof into your hand, rubbing it to console her.
“We're all afraid. But so long as we leave something behind. Someone to remember what we were and what we did, we can go into the long dark content. Not happy, nor sad. But content enough.”
>For a moment, neither of you say anything.
>And you can see, in her expression. Something broke.
>”Thank you Anon.”

~=~

>It took nearly three hours to get back to Luna's room. Once the floodgates opened Celestia wanted to talk about the people she had lost over the years. Brightsmile, Farseer, Nergüi, so many others you can barely remember.
>But at last, duty called for the Monarch, and she had to go and be that monarch.
>You opened the dark blue door, and sure enough sitting there on the bed, reading from a book, was the Princess of the Night and Moon.
“Successful raid?”
>She snaps to you, and drags you in by her telekinesis, also shutting the door behind you.
>”Anon... I found her journal.”
>You smile, barely noticing how she referred to herself.
“Well, that's good. Does it have anything on that Other me from a thousand years ago?”
>Luna cautiously and slowly shakes her head no.
“Well? Are you just reading her personal thoughts for the thrill of it?”
>”Anon... What do you know of Brightsmile?”
>The question confuses you.
“That old Butler of Celestia's? Died a few weeks ago? Not much. Why?”
>Luna levitates the journal that was previously sat upon her bed.
>”Perhaps it's just best you read this. Anonymous... Just prepare yourself.”
>That wasn't ominous at all. You don't take the book from her magic grip just yet.
“I need to know what I am in for before I take that. If this is...”
>”Start on June the First. A month before 'Brightsmile' died. Read up till Yesterday's entry.”
>You do not quite understand, nor like, why she said Brightsmile's name like that.
>But you gingerly take the book from her.
>”Good luck Anonymous. And we are sorry.”
>None of this was helping you abate the fear this private journal was causing you.
“Perhaps I shouldn't read the personal diary of one of the Monarchs of the country I'm staying in. That might constitute treason, and she is my boss.”
>Luna shook her head.
>”You need to know. If you shall not read it, I shall read it for you.”
>You do not want to be chained up on a wall again. Not by her again.
“Fine. I shall see you later. Once I've read this harmless book you will return it to where you found it and that shall be the end of this.”
>The Princess of the night did not respond. Merely looking at you sympathetically. The fact that you were getting that look from a mare that had spent one thousand years conscious on the Moon unable to move was unnerving.
>You carefully limp out of the room, book beneath your shirt to hide it from any guards, and made your way back to your own room to read it. For good or ill.

#d#

>The word of Princess Celestia, Goddess of the Sun, Regent of the Moon, Monarch of Equestria.
>Why do you start every month in your diary like that Celly? You hate your titles.
>Oh wow, now we are writing to ourselves as well. Great.
>Well, perhaps we ought to start.
>Today's date is June the First, 1000 PLB
>A thousand years since you banished her. A thousand years of regret. But a thousand years to plan for her return and redemption. The pieces are in place. You merely have to wait, and you shall have your sister back!
>Right, perhaps we should talk about today's events.
>Shining Armor noticed Brightsmile coughing intensely today. While the Stallion merely waved it off, I need to know. He's getting on in years, and...
>Well, this is the longest time that Brightsmile has ever lived for, at least as far as you know.
>Farseer died in his forties hitting that Iceberg.
>You had to kill the Beast in the Long Grass in his thirties.
>The Wanderer of the Badlands...died in his fifties.
>And Nergui died in his mid-forties.
>It seems that Brightsmile's do not like to settle down.
>Of course, maybe there were Brightsmile's out there that lived long, happy lives. But if there were, you didn't know of them.
>Anyway, you will try and get a doctor to covertly look at Brightsmile, or maybe he has gone himself.

>3rd June
>Brightsmile has not gone to the Horsepital. Far from it. He hasn't gone in years. Those pills were merely brought off the black market. He's ditched the sleeping pills he used to need, but still...
>When he was entertaining his Griffon Ambassador friend you had one of your guards check his room.
>There was unwashed blood in the basin.
>Brightsmile is sick. He needs help.

>5th June
>Twilight is moving very far in her studies. It will soon be time to kick her out of the nest.
>Gently push her. That's definitely what you meant.
>Good dinner today. One of your servants went out for doughnuts and had offered you one.
>Brightsmile used to smuggle in snacks during long days at court. He's too old for that now. Hasn't left his room today.

>15th June
>Sorry I haven't been updating you, diary. My duties, usually suffocating enough, have only increased the closer we get to the summer Sun celebration.
>I've had to keep tabs on the other five Harmony candidates. Rarity was planning on making a trip to Manehatten, but I had the train covertly delayed long enough to stop that. She probably wouldn't have missed the celebration itself, but I cannot take any chances.
>Speaking of duty, Sunspot spoke up again today. She wants the right to the title of Head of household. Not just the pay, the responsibilities and being the de-facto head anyway.
>Not while Brightsmile lives.
>You can understand her view though. Brightsmile has not left his room for several days now. From those bringing him food you do know he is at least getting out of bed and washing himself, but he will apparently spend hours staring across Equestria from that balcony in his room.
>Moonbeam even said that he likes to lean a bit too far forward on it.
>This has happened before. Brightsmiles' have always heard the call of the abyss. The Wanderer killed himself after all. And The Beast in the Long Grass just did that in a roundabout, awful way.

>21st of June
>The planning for Brightsmile's eightieth are complete. Invitations have been sent out. He might say that most of his friends are long gone by now, there were several very fast returns to the invites.
>Hopefully Brightsmile will appreciate them coming to see him.

>The word of Princess Celestia, Princess of the Sun, regent of the Moon, Monarch of Equestria.
>Anon is dead.
>I know this because when I asked if anyone had seen Anon after our chat in front of Farseer's portrait they looked at me like they had no idea what I was talking about.
>And of course, the banner was changed to “Brightsmile's 80th!”
>Shining Armor found his body on that balcony he always loved. I've seen him tonight. He looked... Content. Perhaps there was no better way for him...
>I miss him.
>I already do.
>Even my own diary, the very words I have written, have changed Anon to Brightsmile. Any mention of the man or human to Stallion. Hands to hooves. Fifty years of writing changed in a moment. What cruel spell is he under, for it to deny even my musings? My only honest words changed.
>I shall doubt I will see Anon for a long time. He appeared in Manehatten fifty years ago. He could be anywhere in the wide world now, and while I desperately wish to find him, I have my damned duties. I have to wear this damned crown, I have to rule these...
>I should not write angry. It is not good for either of us, is it diary?
>Oh. I seemed to have dropped some water on you. Sorry.
>My last words to him were “I suppose it's too late for that.”
>Damn it.
>There was so much I should have told him.
>That I knew what he was doing. Where he was going. That we had met before, and hopefully we shall meet again. He was at the end of his life, surely knowing that he will return will not result in another Beast in the Long Grass?
>I should have told him I...
>Well. If I cannot even admit it to you, diary, what hope have I with him? Even after all this time. Perhaps it has always been too late for it. Like the future's behind us. Like it's always been behind us.
>His funeral is next week. But we bury a stranger, not Anon.


>July 7th
>I cannot believe it. All my woes from the funeral of “Brightsmile” are gone!
>Twilight, that wonderful Unicorn, found him. Right in her study.
>Of all the places he could have appeared, it was right back here. Canterlot.
>I saw him. It was strange, as it always has been, to see him so young again. Though this has been the greatest difference. Eighty years old Anon and Twenty three.
>He looks... Confused.
>Good, but confused. He mentioned that he fears, or perhaps hopes, this is merely a hallucination.
>I will not tell him the truth. It has only gone wrong in the past for him. The Beast in the Long Grass is proof enough of that.
>But there are greater worries. Luna will come back to me soon. Soon I shall have my Sister back.
>But she may well remember Anon. After all, her last conversation on this earth was with him.
>I believe this is the earliest I have met Anon. After all, usually he is out there in the wider world before his name becomes known enough for me to track him down.
>There is a great melancholy around him. A sadness. Hopefully, he shall get over it, as he has before.
>He will hopefully settle into his new job fine. And...
>Well. Perhaps we can be friends again.
>He isn't Brightsmile. He is his own person. They may share a past, but they do not share a future.
>But it would be nice to talk to him again.

~D~

>Your hands shake as you close the diary and hold it close to your chest in a death grip.
>For a few moments, you sit there in complete silence, unable to move, unable to talk. Even to blink.
>The rains from yesterday have returned, you blankly notice as you look out of the window of your room, onto the balcony outside.
>Brightsmile's room.
>You realise that now. You had been given back your own room.
>What foul...
>Breathe.
>Breathe.
>You have only just discovered you have been trapped in this place for a thousand years, doomed to die over and over again, to be forgotten by almost everyone. To have all your accomplishments and failings pushed onto someone else.
>You've only learnt that there is no way out. Not even death is a freedom from this place. You would only return to this place.
>No. Don't give in to the dark. There has to be something you are missing. Something that isn't written here.
>Hell, Luna might have been fucking with you. Revenge for some version of you...
>Someone who only happened to look, act and feel like you.
>Sending her to the Moon. Yes. That must be it.
>But to know for sure, you have to learn from the Horse's mouth.
>As a bolt of lightning splits the sky outside, you stand. Diary in hand.
>You run a hand through your hair, steel yourself for the conversation you were going to have with the God Queen of this country.
>And leave your room.

~=~

>As dusk begins to die outside, and give way to the dark, you march through the white marble halls of the castle.
>Thoughts rush through your head as you pass ancient paintings. You glare at the one of that explorer Farseer, and his green piercing eyes follow you across the room. Then came Brightsmile's portrait.
>It was a small thing. Brand new. From your limited understanding of these creatures, the Stallion in it was in his forties or fifties. He had a few grey hairs on his temples and fringe.
>And once again, his green eyes were staring at you. Boring into your head. Looking back at identical eyes.
>You shake your head clear. Pure coincidence. Lies. All of it was surely a grand lie.
>But the whispers in your mind tell you, you have to be sure. You have to be certain. To stop and return to blissful ignorance was gone now. For good or ill, you had to know the truth of the matter.
>With a last glance towards that portrait, you make your way towards the throne room.
>Two guards stand outside, and they move to stop you.
“She's expecting me.”
>”She's not expecting anypony like you. She has requested...”
“There are no ponies like me. Only me. Let me in.”
>You stare at the two of them, and they don't make any motion they intend to move aside. As you raise your fists and they move to fight the door glows gold.
>Celestia's silken voice comes through.
>”Come in Anonymous.”
>You take a breath, sigh, and lower your fists before tightening your grip on the diary inside your waistcoat.
>As the guards stand aside and let you pass, still glaring at you, you make your way within the throne room.
>You don't flinch as the doors slam shut behind you and simply keep walking the long distance from that great entrance all the way towards the Princess of the Sun, sitting upon her golden throne.
>In her eyes is confusion. But also pity. Damn her pity.
>You reach into your waistcoat and pull out her diary. Her violet eyes fall upon it even from this great distance and fear and trepidation gather on her face.
“Do you mind telling me a little more about Brightsmile? Or perhaps Nergúi? Or even whatever The Beast in the Long Grass might be?”
>You cannot keep the anger and pain from your voice. Cannot keep the fear from it either.
>”Anon. I...”
“No. The truth. Please. What exactly is going on Celestia? Why am I here? In the cosmic sense.”
>She looks into your eyes. Pleading with you not to ask. Perhaps pleading for you to forget all of this. And to your sorrow, you wish you could. But you were never going to get your wish.
“Who am I, Celestia? Is Anonymous even my real name? I mean, it literally means 'Nameless'. How can that possibly be my name?”
>You begin to break down. Begin to hyperventilate as she merely sits there and watches you.
>Breathe
>Breathe.
>Collect yourself.
>You steel yourself as you make the final few steps towards her, standing at the bottom of the steps leading to her raised throne upon the dais.
>She looks at you, unblinking, unshaking. Just stares in dejection. You can barely bring your voice above a whisper.
“Answer me.”
>She smiles, a sad, tired smile of regret and acceptance both. The Princess of the Sun finally begins to move off her throne and trot towards you, her metal horseshoes echoing throughout the empty hallway.
>”How did you find out? Was it just my diary?”
>She nods towards the book in your hand, but you shake your head.
“I... Nightmare Moon made me remember Nurgúi's death. And the dreams haven't exactly helped in that regard. The book just confirmed what I quietly feared.”
>”Would it surprise you to know this is not the first time we've had this conversation?”
>And there it is. Confirmation that this was all true. This wasn't some ploy of Luna/Nightmare Moon, or some other prankster with access to Celestia's diary. This was her. It was the truth.
>You lower your head.
“How many times?”
>Celestia swallows something before placing one of her front hooves on your shoulder and continuing.
>”Only once. We've met only a few times directly. You'd be surprised how little a new...”
>A tear forms at the edge of your eye, but you wipe it away quickly and look up to glare into her violet eyes.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
>She sighs and removes the hoof from your shoulder.
>”You probably read why in there.” She says, nodding her head to the diary still within your grasp.
“I don't take it well?”
>”No. No, you have not. Suicide was the path you took when I told you directly. When you had somehow worked it out for yourself...”
>You raise an eyebrow as the Goddess of the sun shivers slightly.
>”It doesn't go well. For anyone.”
>You stand there, unsure of what you might possibly say. What possible answer do you have to learning you had been here at least a thousand years. That you were one in a long line of copies of yourself brought here only to die forgotten. That you wouldn't even leave a legacy. And anyone that might even remember you would get a shiny, younger replacement version later. That you yourself were a replacement version of yourself.
“I...”
>That was the problem really. “I.” You.
“Who am I, Celestia? A replacement for Brightsmile? For half a dozen other versions of myself?”
>Celestia takes a moment to answer, mulling over the question.
>”You are Anonymous. It's up to you to decide that for yourself.”
>...
“Did you bring me here to replace another me?”
>Your gaze turns harsher and colder as you stare the Princess in the eyes.
“Is that why I am here? So you might have someone around to remind you of the countless dead?”
>”You are not him! You are your own person Anonymous!”
>Her honest, pleading answer only makes you pause for a moment.
“Is that better?”
>Now it's Celestia's turn to pause. She looks as if you had just hit her.
“To know that the Anonymous you knew is dead, and there's nothing of him left. No proof but what you might remember? That I am here in his place?”
>”I...”
“What was it you wanted to say to him? Right there at the end?”
>You hold the book up, tapping it to prove the point.
>She stumbles around the words she wants to say. Not quite able to articulate her point across.
>”I...”
>You wait. And she lowers her head to the ground, her long aurora coloured mane barely blowing in the non-existent breeze.
“Am I him Celestia? Am I the same man that appeared fifty years ago? Two hundred? A thousand?”
>”You start the same. You don't have to end up the same.”
“Right...”
>You stand there, motionless, simply trying to work out the enormity of what you've been told.
>Somewhere, in a dark recess of your mind, you'd hope you entered a coma in reality. And that you were here until you died, whereupon you would simply wake back up in a hospital bed, surrounded by your family. Classic Life on Mars stuff.
>But even this tentative option you had hoped for was gone. Replaced by waking dreams and eternity stretching before you.
>And the choice was yours. To break.
>Or to bend.
>To reset again. To forget. It would be so easy to just let go. To go to sleep and never awaken again. To return to a life of blissful hope and ignorance. Never having to vaguely remember dying half a hundred times every time you closed your eyes. All the hundreds of creatures over the years that had loved, lost and hated you now forgetting your name, your face, even your identity.

>No.

>Fuck that shit.
>Mother Anon did not raise a coward, not even one to cower before an existential crisis.
>You would not break.
>You walk towards the grand balcony behind the throne, Celestia following cautiously behind you. Perhaps she thought you wanted to jump.
>No. Not this time.
>As the rain hits you, and you smell of ozone of the gathering storm outside you close your eyes for a moment. It all feels so real. There can be no doubt that this is reality. That all of that was true. You were here. And had been for at least a thousand years. No escape, no returning.
>You sigh as you lean against the railing of the balcony, your eyes still closed. You can sense Celestia almost reaching out for you, perhaps to be ready to grab you if you attempted to lean too far forward.
>But you knew better than that.
>You open your eyes to the evening storm, to the rain and clouds, to the lightning and thunder roaring above you. As a bolt splits the sky in twain you smile softly to yourself.
“I'm not going to jump Celestia, you needn't worry about that.”
>You turn to her, a soft honest smile playing on your face.
>She seems both relieved and confused, but trots toward you, deciding to stand next to you and placing her two front hooves over the edge of the balcony.
>For a brief moment, the two of you look into each other eyes. Violet against deep green.
“I can't stay here.”
>Those words were not what she was expecting, as you can read on her face. She frowns and her head drops slightly.
>”Why?”
“I need to see if there is any way out of this. Constantly forgetting who I was I mean. See if there is some way I can remember. And I doubt the answer is in front of me.”
>You turn to the view of nearly the whole of Equestria, just as the setting sun begins to dip below the horizon.
>”Do you have any idea where you'll go?”
>You shake your head, wryly grinning as you stroke your chin.
“No. Best I could come up with is try and track down my past lives. See if there's some common link between them other than myself.”
>”Such a task would be better suited for a library than out there.”
>Her tone is pleading. And honest. It's true enough to an extent, but still, you shake your head.
“Perhaps. But trying to divine which historical figures in history were me might take a long while. I can read on the road.”
>”This isn't the only reason you're leaving is it?”
>You turn to her, place a hand against her back, and nod.
“I need to be something other than a replacement for Brightsmile.”
>She opens her mouth, but you place a finger against it.
“I know. You aren't trying to make me into him. But if I stay here, what great difference will there be between me and him?”
>”He is you.”
“And I am He. But not yet.”
>For a minute the two of you stood there in silence, the rain pouring down around you, soaking your mane's and hair.
>”You won't be going alone.”
>You smile softly, touched at her offer as she stares defiantly into your eyes.
“You can't Princess. You have a nation to rule. I am only one man.”
>She lowers her head for a moment, but quickly returns her fierce gaze towards your own.
>”Not I. There's only two other ponies who will remember you if you...”
>Ah. She's afraid you'll die. And that you will be forgotten.
“If I die, then don't be afraid to tell the other me what I am going through. Tell him to find out why.”
>”You will not die Anon. I shall send Luna with you.”
>You furrow your brow.
“Luna? Her and I...”
>”You've both hurt each-other in different forms. You both weren't yourselves when that happened. You both have to make up for it. And she needs to learn about the world she was forced to leave behind.”
>You grit your teeth and smile to yourself, not overly eager to travel with someone who had broken one of your ribs, given you a black eye, scarred you. Oh yeah, and also killed you once.
“That's inconspicuous. The Princess of the Night and the only human in the world.”
>”I don't need you to be inconspicuous Anon. I need you to live.”
>Your smile widens into a wry grin.
“First time for everything I guess.”
>You run a hand through her astral mane, feeling the low warmth hum through your fingers as the Goddess of the Sun and the Monarch of an entire country leans slightly into your hands. Before she remembers herself and trots slightly away.
>”Anon... I.”
>You smile and hold her face, forcing her to return your gaze.
“It's not too late for that. I will be back. One way or the other.”
>You can see the slightest hint of tears forming at the edges of her eyes.
>”I suppose not. Until next time Anonymous.”
>Briefly, the thought passes through you that obviously, you will need to pack, plan and prepare, that Luna will have to agree to all this, and that you need to do a bit of research to figure out where you are going. So no doubt you shall see Celestia again, regardless of the outcome of the journey you want to take.
>But now, beneath the dark and stormy sky, was too perfect of an ending for you to not say those things.
“We'll meet again. I'm sure of it.”