They woke her when the sky was darkest.

An eternal night might’ve wrapped itself around the world, but even some were brighter than others: the full moon would sometimes illuminate the fields like an immense white pearl, stars dancing all around it, painting the heavens as well as any dawn ever could. But this evening was clouded, the sky turned into a foul and inky black that neither stars nor moonlight could break through.

“I kept guards,” Luna Asteria roared at everyone and no one, court records say, and ponies trembled at the sight of the queen so displeased. “Where were they? Where were they?” Her voice was full of anger, full of grief.

“Those five guards on duty are the selfsame ponies that let the deserters in,” a trembling galoer finally mumbled, his last words recorded in our histories before he disappeared to the dungeons he was meant to keep. He shared the fate of almost any pony that dared say anything that darkened the queen’s mood that night; with the passing of days Luna had given up on the flimsy idea of winning the people’s love. But she could still have their fear.

The thieves had left her personal armory in disarray, pearl-laced daggers and gilded axes missing from their stands, old prealicornian bows of yew and summerwood gone from her collection. But worst of all, worst of all, Heartseeker’s dais was empty. The thrice-damned betrayers had taken Amore’s sword, and the six beautiful stones encrusted at the base of its blade. Queen Luna had to bite back a hysterical laugh when she saw. The sword was gone. The kingdom might as well be lost, and the fumbling ponies around her couldn’t realize it yet.

And so she ran, galloping down the great hall and out the castle yard, leading the hunt herself. Behind the Dark Queen were her legion of batponies, the finest of her soldiers with their sharp, nocturnal eyes. Their skills were well known, and still they struggled to catch the traitors as they made their escape for leagues and leagues. By all rights the batpony hunters and their leader should’ve fallen upon the prey easily, but there were old tricks they somehow knew, from the times before the Sisters united all of ponykind into a single nation. They hid their scents and confused the hunters with fake trails, until the batponies had nothing to follow.

It was so that the hunting party returned to The Everfree with empty hooves and cloaked in shame. The castle garrison was gathered in the Great Hall, expecting an audience for the queen to explain what had happened, which she would be forced to give…

…if her heart hadn’t led her back to the eastern tower, where her older sister once resided.

How can we know the truth of what happened then, and why the queen decided to visit the cobweb-ridden chambers that had been Celestia’s? Was it some instinct perhaps, the remnants of a broken bond that led her to her treasure? We may never know. What we know is this: Queen Luna, weary and defeated, climbed up the steps to her sister’s tower, and there discovered Winter Laurel, chief armorer, crystal pony and beloved confidant, carrying a sword-shaped bundle of rags in his hooves.

Betrayal had become a dish the queen tried often, its taste as familiar as morning porridge; she expected it of many and had received it in turn, maids and soldiers, peasants and nobles alike. She would not begrudge her people their hunger, but seeing the pony she’d risen from the ashes of the northern tragedies, hiding here while she and hers were led in a wild goose chase, baited into buying him more time…

“How could you?” Queen Luna said, more confused and afraid than anything else.

“How could you!” The crystal armorer wailed back, clutching Heartseeker to his chest. “The word has spread among us crystal heirs, even those of us that live in The Everfree. We know what you did. We know.”

The gentle stallion was weeping openly, shaking even as he inched back towards the window, but his eyes were burning more brightly than the queen had ever seen them; it was hatred that lit his irises, a sight she knew well.

“Nonsense, Laurel. Your wits are wandering. The rebels lured you in with honeyed words and gave you a chance to escape, yet you remain, because you’re loyal to your queen. You know this as well as I.” She took a step forward. “Please… Let me have this, if nothing else. Heartseeker is my love’s shade. Put down the sword, and you may leave peacefully if that is what you truly desire.”

But it was no good. “I see it now,” the crystal pony armorer panted, trembling. “I told myself you were the same, but it’s not. You are not the pony Amore loved, and you are no queen of mine. May the cries of my people haunt you forever.”

And in a thousand years may their children’s children spit on my grave, she wanted to say, but instead Queen Luna roared a wordless cry and charged forward, wings spreading. It all happened in a second: Winter Laurel’s horn lit up with a ring of purple magic, a blast aimed at the queen’s face, but the alicorn deflected it with contempt, and the backfired spell took the crystal pony right on the face. He cried out in agony, stumbling backwards, and as he blinked away droplets of blood he spat out words not spoken in five decades—

“Dawn is breaking.” And as he fell down from the tower’s highest window, an embrace of golden pink magic caught him in mid-air, and neither pony nor sword were seen at The Everfree thereafter.

………………

The Queen fallen from grace stared down at the tourney grounds below the tower, speechless, before silently descending to the castle’s inner yard. She pushed herself through The Everfree’s keeps, great draconian wings dragging along her sides, head low. All strength had left her, and no words could rouse her from this trance. Her slitted pupils, dimmed down to a colorless gray, were unfocused as some greater instinct led her through the eastern gate, past the kitchens, over the Sisters’ gardens.

Some tried to speak to her as she passed, and many and more tried to gather their bearings and flee as word of the latest betrayal spread. Those that were caught were killed, their bodies hanging from the castle battlements as a warning to future turncloaks. Some cried, some shouted, some hissed in rage and demanded the heads of those who’d forsaken them; those most faithful to Luna would call out to her, but their courage failed even them at the sight of the ruler’s wide and senseless eyes. There was something terribly animalistic about the queen as she pulled against the rose bushes that tugged at her torn silks; the delicate fabric ripped and her heavy velvet cape came undone, until the burn marks underneath were revealed to the crowd. The never-healing wound seemed to steam in the cool night air, and the queen was too far gone to try and cover herself as ponies gaped at her and cried in dismay. The Capital was crumbling under the despondent eye of the Moon. She kept walking.

At long last, her hooves took her not to her bedchambers, nor to the throne she’d killed for. Instead the Night Queen stood before the entrance to the catacombs below the Everfree, her starry mane lightly stirred by the icy breeze. Despite her size at the fullness of her madness, even the Alicorn was dwarfed by the sheer enormity of the crystal caverns, but this did little to stop her: with a deafening groan and a hideous screech, like that of dying prey, the great stone doors were pulled and torn from their hinges by blue magic, then ponderously thrown to the side. And as the dusky monarch stepped into the cave, the first snowflakes of summer fell over the dead flowers below.

………………

The universe is connected, the old priests tell us, and scientists and astronomers can hardly disagree; all that was and is and will be comes and goes through the same flow of energy, the grand scheme of things nurturing itself, experiencing itself, held together by webs of magic both arcane and incomprehensible. And at the center of the caves underneath the Everfree laid the Tree of Harmony, one of the pillars of the world. It glowed merrily, pure and oblivious, its gemstone leaves and obsidian roots brightening and dimming in tune to the Tree’s slow heartbeat, as had always been and would always be.

The Night Queen’s eyes seemed to focus for the first time since Heartseeker had been taken from her as she beheld the cave she’d made into the Sun’s tomb. The cave was an old place, and it remembered: it seemed to wake now, some sleepy ancient beast whose maw parted in a silent yawn, welcoming an old friend in. Luna was not a stranger to the Tree, nor it to her, and as her hooves left bloody prints across the black-blue soil, the crystals encrusted all over the stone hall’s walls lit up, beckoning her, cheerfully responding to her presence. Overhead, the ceiling shifted and glimmered strangely, a mirrorlike surface that rippled like a lake, and made it seem as if Tree and Goddess were underwater.

Moon. Little Moon. She smelled of sweat, smoke and metal, scents of the surface beyond the Tree’s roots, but it welcomed her all the same, for they were Harmony Incarnate, and in bringing her and her sister back to the world, the Tree had done well. The Tree knew she would kneel and repent and they would rise with the Sun, and the long dream would be over. Up along the ceiling, the not-water reflected a lilac batpony filly with scraped knees as she walked closer to the Tree. Below, the dusky Alicorn approached impassively, her eyes wild, one hoof drunkenly before the other as she stepped over the stone-hewn altar where she’d laid Celestia’s cold body to rest; the deathly bed was now empty, and on it was a handful of ashes that scattered as Luna carelessly stepped over them.

The Goddess stumbled, be it on a pebble or crystal she never saw, but the voice she heard was Starswirl’s, the bearded old unicorn that had been more father than mentor to her. Why was it his gray face that her mind conjured now? Her sister had always been his favorite, the talented and studious protegé. But it was his voice regardless, crying out abomination right through her skull. Luna thought of that same gray face, poring over dusty old scrolls, retelling the story of Discord and how he’d feasted on the flesh of his fellow dragonequi; seven great serpents had been born to the Earth, to split the nations into fourteen great realms, but the seventh creature had slain his brothers and sisters and gorged himself on their meat. And it was her father’s voice calling out abomination, and it was the taste of blood on her tongue, the warmth of a fresh kill, stolen immortality gnawing at her ribcage.

The Goddess of the Moon looked up, mouth agape in feral panting, her chest heaving. There stood the Tree of Harmony, as it always had and always would, beautiful and overgrown, heavy with the weight of destiny. The fruit of its branches had been taken long ago by a pair of young brave friends in their quest to save the world, but on its trunk were still engraved twin symbols, a sun ascendant and a moon timidly peeking over the wooden ridge.

Above those two was the greatest of the three, a six-pointed star that shone with its own light. The Alicorn could hear the Tree’s heartbeat, so full of hope and love for her and her sister and the world, even here, even now. She bowed her head and let her horn lightly rest against the six-pointed star, then stabbed it right through the fucker in a single thrust, and never stopped to think twice about it.

YEHAWWWWW. had a lot of fun writing this one, though it all feels all over the place for some reason. Something something it doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be done.

this is a bit of a callback to the very first time Luna met the Tree (https://www.deviantart.com/pumpkabooo/art/hollyverse-3-our-last-hope-858451413), and the true value of Heartseeker is revealed, along with the identity of those six small stones (https://www.deviantart.com/pumpkabooo/art/hollyverse-35-Moonrise-922776726). The stone altar where Celestia was laid to rest is covered in ashes and nothing else.

I hope you’re all doing well! Thank you so much for your patience as always, and I can’t wait to read yall in the comments uuuu ♥♥♥