The stallion's coat was a wash of red and black, or rather black that had become drenched in red, the latter of which had come in geysers from the body under his hooves. The stallion watched his own face, eyes staring for his head, the blood of his victim dripped from his chin, seeming to leak out from his mouth, though he had suffered no wound himself. But even when the dead individual's lifeblood had lost all its warmth, it continued still to drip from his neck and mane, and he slowly realized that a pony's body did not contain this much blood. He touched a hoof to his left nostril and it came away soaked in blood. His blood. He could feel it beginning to trickle, and then stream from his nostrils. He gasped, only to choke as his mouth became filled with red and he desperately opened as wide as he could to try and create a pathway for air to reach his lungs. His chest began to fill with blood, and as he drowned, he was aware on some level that even his eyes and ears had begun to seep as his body rebelled against him, wringing every drop of blood from itself, leaving behind a body as empty and hollow as a disinterred grave-

"Mr. Writingdesk!"

Raven snapped into himself with a gasp, his lungs thoroughly convinced that they were never going to breathe again, his flanks and mane drenched. Instinctively, he pawed himself with his hooves, then released a relieved, shaking sigh when he found no blood. But even as the realization of consciousness began to permeate his mind, he still kept his eyes wide open, as though attempting to perceive precisely where the darkness had crawled away to. He sniffed darkly at such a childish notion; his darkness did not hide in closets. It lurked between muscle and sinew, crawled under his skin, trespassed within his very bones, waiting. He shook the sweat from his mane, already feeling in need of a drink.

Wakefulness finally crept into his hooves and brain, finally allowing him to be mildly aware that he had indeed freed himself from his nightmare. He looked around his darkened room, making an effort to take comfort in the meager rays of light as they forced their way around his blinds, creating minute javelins of sun to pierce the dusty blackness in which he had consciously ensconced himself the previous night. He closed his eyes momentarily then drew one more vastly deep, calming breath to exhale the last of the nightmare adrenaline. He looked down at the empty black labeled bottles at his feet. Why did he do this to himself?

"Mr. Writingdesk?" There was a voice accompanied by a knock on his door.

Right. Wake-up call.

"Yes, thank you," he called out absent-mindedly, then collected his thoughts fully and restated with more confidence in his tone: "I'm awake. Thank you, Hop."

"You are quite welcome, sir!" said the boyish, nondescript voice he knew quite well,

though it sounded more pleased than usual for whatever reason. "And may I be the first to say, good morning!" That added sentiment, while not rare, was not a regular occurrence and Raven smiled at the door, feeling as though he should thank the bellhop for his well-wishes. But he decided against it as he had already uttered a thanks previously. Though to call the lad a colt would likely be a disservice within a few more months.

Raven, already standing, stretched his legs individually, then trotted forward and back a few paces to work out the kinks and aches. Despite the fact he often woke up with stiff legs, he preferred maintaining the ancient tradition of sleeping in a standing position. It was odd for any of Equestria's citizens to adhere to the archaic sleep style; beds were virtually a universal commodity these days. However, the quiet, paranoid voices that occasionally chirped in his ear reminded him that if something were to happen, he could much more easily muster a flight or fight response when already standing. He had no idea what that "something" would be, but his extreme precautionary methods were mainly due to little voices in his head, so reason did not exactly have much to do with it.

Feeling quite out of sorts from his nightmare, Raven trotted off for his morning shower, hoping to force the memories from his mind. Out of curiosity, he peeked out of his curtains briefly as he passed, squinting an eye in the bright morning light. The Canterlot Clock read eight hours and two minutes in the a.m. As always, Hop had been right on time.

As was usually the case, the warm water and soap suds banished the final cobwebs of the previous night's depressions and gloom, leaving his mind feeling mightily improved and his midnight-black flanks shimmering in the morning light when he finally opened his curtains to let the outside world in. Feeling whimsical now that the nightmare's particulars had been banished, he even gave himself a mild brushing, pulling apart the knots in his impenetrably dark mane and going so far as to give his quill-and-ink cutie mark a brief buffing. Cutie mark. Going on thirty and he still called it that. Still, life without quirks can hardly be considered life at all.

Finally composed, Raven proceeded to his door and exited from his Canterlot rooms, and was instantly greeted by the glorious, cloud-free blue above, the sounds of hoof-falls and laughter from the streets below, and the cornucopia of mingled smells of morning, from the intoxicatingly subtle scent of freshly baked muffins two lanes down, to the sharp, almost unnoticeable whiff of acrid metal. The latter was a smell he adored for its uniqueness; it was perhaps the sole scent that separated Canterlot from virtually every other city in Equestira. Only the cobblestones of Canterlot, which contained minute traces of flint, could be hit in just such a manner that sparks could be created from one's horseshoes. It had long ago been established that these embers were so small in scale that the fire danger was quite literally non-existent, and it was the easily missed smell of those rare sparks instantaneously popping into and then fading out of existence that he loved. It was so deliciously apropos that he could not help but adore it.

Satisfied that the day had begun right, Raven trotted down the external stairs of his loft apartment with an extra spring in his canter, though he was quick to cease such frivolity when he reached the lobby of the establishment from which he rented his rooms; he was, for no reason he quite grasped, very possessive of publicly displaying those moments of intimacy. And while he sincerely doubted anypony would think much of it, or even notice at all, it was just another by-product of that little paranoid voice in his head telling him that lettering everypony know his state of mind was a mistake. Such was his lot.

The moment Raven entered the lobby of the Canterlot Apartments, a rather deceptively humble name for his residence as the abodes were more penthouse than apartment, he could tell something was quite different. Not wrong, like in his nightmare, but different. For starters, everypony was out and about. No pony crossed the lobby in a rush to be off and conduct business, or simply sleeping late, no. They were all deeply involved in discussion, each group of mingled voices combining with the exclamations being emitted from neighboring groups, creating an air that contained an energy he had not felt since… probably that massive DJ Pwn3 concert he had attended some months back. That reminded him, he needed to touch bases with Vinyl. And Octavia. He sighed as he realized how far behind he was in maintaining what few friendships he had. In truth, both of the members of the musical elite were more acquaintances than friends, but he still felt the tug of social protocol telling him that calling upon the DJ and the cellist would be proper. He forcibly pulled himself back into the present as Hop trotted up to him, the morning paper in hoof.

"Mr. Writingdesk! Have you seen the news, sir?"

"Seeing as how you were my wake-up call, I can hardly see how I could have," Raven remarked dryly as he took his paper from the bellboy. Most ponies who overheard him converse with Hop usually thought he was being quite mean to the lad, but he and Hop naturally understood one another and the colt took Raven's dry tones as the subtle jest they were intended to be.

"Lookit! Lookit!" Hop pointed his hoof over the top of the paper to poke at its front page. Raven arched an eyebrow at the colt's antics, though not in a disapproving fashion, but merely to wonder what in the wide world of Equestria had gotten into the lad. And the paper quickly informed him.

At first, Raven thought someone had pulled an elaborate prank, but it struck him that those groups around him were all clustered about reading the paper as well, discussing the details of the picture and headline he was now studying.

"'Princess' Twilight," he said aloud, though quite mumbled as he had not intended to actually vocalize his surprise. And he was surprised. "I knew she was Celestia's protégé, but still…"

"And! And!" Hop poked at the text below the picture of the youthful, just-named Princess. Background details, areas of study and expertise, and…

"Heir?" Raven said, this time intentionally enunciating the word. "But…" Celestia is well known to be over a thousand years old and according to all records, she had not aged a day in that entire millennia. What…?

"How can you be an heir to someone immortal? And what happens to Luna?" Raven found himself asking, scanning the paper for mention of the Princess of Night, or any further details as to the impact this change would have. While there was plenty of information about the new princess, it all seemed to be in retrospect; there was no mention as to how future events would be affected. Hop, meanwhile, seemed in far to high of spirits to consider much else apart from the joy he was experiencing from the good news. And it was good news, truly, and Raven certainly did not want to detract from that fact, but still… More facts would have been nice. It must have all been rather sudden…

"There is going to be an assembly to greet the new Princess!" Hop was saying, as he seemed to be doing his best to live up to his name by actually hopping back and forth from left hooves to right hooves, doing odd little dances that reminded Raven that despite the fact the colt was growing up, he was still a colt. Raven flipped through to the "current events" section and found the time for the assembly Hop mentioned. Sure enough, that very afternoon, 2pm.

"Is breakfast on schedule, Hop?" Raven inquired inattentively as he continued to peruse the original article.

"It is running a little late," Hop admitted as he tried mightily to contain his antics so that he could properly listen, "but I can grab some fruit or something of that description while you wait."

"That would be lovely," Raven noted softly, moving away from the boisterous youth while still reading the paper. "I'll be at my usual table."

The "usual table" was situated in the corner of a half-moon balcony, neatly tucked behind a very tall, very green variety of fern. It offered an excellent view from a discrete location, just how Raven liked, well, most everything, really. Hop arrived soon thereafter and was, as always, better than his word. Along with the assorted fruits, he had found a fresh muffin and brewed a pot of tea, which he discretely left at the table. Raven made a note to tip the colt; what with this interesting development, it was likely he would remain at his table and ruminate on these new occurrences. As such, it was equally likely he would need the entire pot, and he appreciated how Hop had apparently considered that.

Raven had hardly touched the first of the strawberries, and not even taken two sips of his tea, when Hop had approached him once more. This time, the colt's energy was well-contained and he merely handed a sealed envelope over to Raven before taking his leave without a word. Raven had to hand it to the lad; it took a measure of mature discretion to know when and when not to speak. He returned his attention to the letter he now had in hoof. Seeing a detail of interest, he immediately put the envelope on the table, seal down and, casually, checked around himself. No one seemed to be watching him, though he did notice that Hop had taken to busing a table that was conveniently in his line of sight. Sharp lad had certainly recognized the seal.

Satisfied that nopony out of the ordinary was watching, Raven turned the envelope back over and considered it for a long moment, weighing what the envelope itself told him. Most obviously, the seal was of a deep red wax. While red wax was by far the most common color used to seal envelopes, there were numerous purveyors of the stuff, and as such, if one developed one's senses of observation, signature methods of wax-making could be distinguished. Wax made in Ponyville, for example, was several shades darker than virtually all other waxes due to the logs harvested from the Everfree Forest, the smoke from which could be quite thick and almost universally blackened wax as it was manufactured. On the other hand, the usual Canterlot waxes were a vibrant blood-red so that a seal could be more easily distinguished, but the wax itself had no real personality to speak of. The wax Raven was currently considering, however, had neither impurities nor shade variations. That meant that this wax had been made by the Flicker family, a revered pedigree in Canterlot that was known for being the manufacturers of every wax-based necessity used strictly within the walls of Canterlot Castle.

From candles to beeswax, the Flickers had, over the course of generations, honed what most would consider a simple craft into an art so distinct that one could even tell which member of the family had created what object. In the case of the wax on Raven's envelope, he instantly recognized the flawless consistency and unparalleled red as coming from a single, minute, and highly controlled quantity which had been produced by none other than the clan's elderly matriarch, "Gran" Flicker. Despite his near compulsion to discover odd, remote, yet interesting pieces of information, Raven did not even know what "Gran" Flicker's first name actually was. But what he did know was that he had heard a rumor on good authority, and that rumor had it that "Gran" Flicker had only made wax by her own two hooves once in the last decade, and it had been on the occasion of Princess Luna's redemption and return from exile. And it had been made expressly for Princess Luna's personal use. Raven, and most everypony who heard the rumor, made an educated assumption this was a sign of fealty to the returning princess.

As for the seal in the wax, it was merely the Royal Seal, if such a thing could be "merely" anything, though it was interesting that it was the generic coat of arms rather than the princess's personal stamp. But because it was made in this unique and priceless wax, she may as well have signed her name with flourished calligraphy across the front of the envelope, though Raven was fairly confident that of all the individuals who probably handled it, only he would have picked up on that detail.

Raven leaned into the envelope and breathed a long, heavy breath onto the seal to make it ever so slightly malleable, then, using a butter knife, carefully pried the small, red lump up from the magnificently manufactured parchment. He placed the intact seal neatly in a linen napkin which he then covered delicately and placed close at hand; whatever the content of the letter, he was certainly going to keep the wax seal as a token of the occasion. The letter, too, of course; burning such parchment would have been, to his mind, tantamount to a crime. The words were penned in a brand of ink he was not familiar with and as he was an author who had used virtually every variety known to ponies, he was rather taken aback by his ignorance. The prose was illustrated in what he could only describe as an archaic manner, as though the individual penning the piece had received writing instruction strictly from sources over a millennia old. Knowing what he knew, though, that fact was not entirely surprising. And the letter read:

"To Ser Raven Writingdesk,

Our royal personage does extend you an invitation to the coronation of our new sister-in-magic, the Princess Twilight Sparkle, and to a private social event following the public festivities.

Her Royal Highness, Mistress of the Night, and the Lady of Dreams,

The Princess Luna"

An invitation to the palace, while always an honor, was not an unusual event for Raven. After all, the "Sir" title the princess employed in addressing him had not spontaneously appeared. But any invitation to the castle he received in the past had always come from the royal offices, and never from either of the Princesses directly, apart for the occasion when he was knighted, of course. This was certainly something different.

Raven carefully put the letter back in its envelope and placed it back on the table before him, then picked up his tea and looked out from his balcony at the vista of Canterlot before him. But he was not seeing the grand, spired and inspired cityscape of Canterlot. Rather, his mind was lost in an ocean of speculation. What could Princess Luna want with him? True, he was technically a knight and therefore on a short list to receive invitation to the vast majority of social functions that took place in the castle, but his knighthood was not exactly for battles won in the traditional sense. Essentially, all he had done was write a book of poetry and short stories. Granted the book had received virtually unanimous acclaim and many ponies calling themselves critics named it the "most important work of our time." And apparently, Celestia had shared that same sentiment enough to knight him for his efforts. He was not sure what to make of that last part, especially. After all, the book revolved around the subject of darkness and night so both the legends of Luna and of her alter-ego Nightmare Moon were prominently featured throughout his work. In fact, if he were pressed, and perhaps rather drunk, Raven would have admitted that Nightmare Moon was precisely who the compilation was about.

There had just always been that something, a quiet, and sometimes very unquiet, darkness somewhere inside him, and he had identified with the tales of Nightmare Moon as a colt when he listened to those old mares' tales with rapt, adoring attention. And when he had grown up and begun to write, it only felt natural for that darkness to find its way into the black ink that oozed from his pen. And everypony had liked it. In such an idyllic land with such a joyful, friendly populace, everypony still liked it. Broken friendship, everlasting night, darkness, and hate. It had said "dark and often disturbing content" right there in the description. And everypony had bought the book, talked about the book, and loved the book.

Now he was rich and famous, left to wonder how it had come to this. Not that he didn't like the money, he simply felt as though he had not earned it. There were rock farmers doing one hundred times the manual labor for ten thousand times less the pay. All he had done was put the blackness in his heart onto paper, bound it with twine, and chucked it at a publisher to see if it stuck. And once Princess Luna had returned, well, sales of his book had skyrocketed once again. He had made enough during the following week of her reinstatement to purchase a permanent residence in Canterlot Castle if he had so chosen; he had not because he preferred to be closer to the heart of the city. He had not meant to make such a successful book. He had not meant to write a book that had been hailed as "defining for generations to come." Especially since, in light of events, he felt somehow as though his success had come at the expense of the princesses, especially Luna. And despite his antisocial patterns, he never would have wanted to gain at their loss. Or any ponies loss, for that matter.

Raven resisted cursing himself, and just clenched his teeth momentarily instead, trying to relax as quickly as he could before somepony noticed the physical manifestations of his inner turmoil. And now Princess Luna had personally invited him to a coronation and the royal equivalent of a meet-and-greet afterparty. He had repeatedly read the legends about Nightmare Moon when he was growing up. He adored the idea of a sister scorned, of her dark vengeance, and the justified but bitter banishment, leaving her to become no more than the Mare in the Moon; a once powerful alicorn reduced to a scary bedtime story to keep naughty fillies and colts in line. He had loved the idea, the concept of Luna, and Nightmare Moon. He felt as though there was a piece of that darkness in his own heart, reaching out, aching to be acknowledged and understood. Now the real Luna had actually reached out.

Despite his relative youth, still being less than thirty, Raven was under no misconceptions about the differences between the Luna/Nightmare Moon in his book and the Princess Luna which had been redeemed and now watched over the night in royal vigil. The image in his mind, the ideal he had worshipped and idealized and written about was no more real than hairless, talking apes. But that did not immunize him from realizing he had butterflies in his stomach now, and not just from a sense of unease. And because Luna had penned the invitation herself, protocol demanded that at the event, he should approach her and thank her. She would then acknowledge his thanks and enter into royally approved small-talk. He could see it now:

"Thank you, Princess Luna, for extending me an invitation."

"We are grateful for your thanks, Ser Raven Writingdesk. Now, if thou wouldst make effort to produce reason as to why thou didst fetishize my darkest and most intimate hours, molding them into mere entertainment for mine subjects. Didst thou think to mock me? Perhaps the gold thou hast garnered for your efforts was thine motive!"

"Princess, please! Have mercy on your servant!"

"Silence! Thou shalt be henceforth banished! Away with thee to mine own former bastille! May thou find some recompense in the craters of the lunar surface!"

Raven knew he was being overly dramatic in his worrying; turning any event into a sweeping drama was one of the perks, and drawbacks, of being a writer. However, despite his fears, there was truly only one thing mattered: he would be attending. How could he not?

His mind resolved, Raven requested Hop to bring him a pen, paper, and envelope. Upon receiving these instruments, Raven quickly produced an RSVP reply then gave it to Hop who would in turn ensure it reached a courier. And so it was settled: Raven would attend. And he was certain, whatever the result, it would likely be a night to remember.

"A little white ago, my teacher and mentor, Princess Celestia, sent me to live in Ponyville. She sent me to study Friendship, which is something I didn't care much about. But now, on a day like today, I can honestly say I would not be standing here if it weren't for the friendships I've made with all of you. Each one of you taught me something about Friendship, and for that I will always be grateful. Today, I consider myself the luckiest pony in Equestria! Thank you, friends! Thank you, everypony!"

-newly crowned Princess Twilight Sparkle

"For a first endeavor, it was a fine speech."

"And rumor is it was improvised; I consider her first address a most excellent effort in that light."

"If it were anypony else who spoke in that manner about the importance of friendship, I would doubt their sincerity. But as I understand it, it was the magic of Friendship which empowered her to become our new Princess, so I cannot help but applaud!"

Raven sipped his punch discretely from his corner of the Canterlot Castle Ballroom, though he partook in the fruity beverage simply because it provided a discrete medium by which to ingest the contents of his hip flask. He called the corner "his" merely because he was the only one occupying it and it was where he had retreated on numerous royal occasions after retrieving dainties and a drink from the buffet tables. It was also an excellent location to listen to the conversations of those around him without having to join a conversation; due to the acoustics of the ballroom once it was full, anypony could actually distinguish anything said from any location, provided one knew where to stand. Which he did.

"Well, we have a princess to raise the sun and another to raise the moon; I can only wonder what purpose our new princess will serve." That was a fairly common question he'd been hearing.

"Speaking of the princesses, where are they?" That one had also been cropping up.

And seeing as he did not see anypony of particular interest, at least none who were already otherwise engaged in conversation, Raven left the ballroom and slowly exited to the royal garden and menagerie. It was an excellent place to walk and to think, and seeing as he did not have any social responsibilities currently, he felt no reason not to adjourn to that peaceful retreat.

The path Raven took led him around the far edge of the gardens, allowing him to pass through a wide courtyard from which one could look straight down into the city of Canterlot, or straight forward to the very horizon of Equestria. And quite a grand sight both views always were. At the current moment from which Raven was gazing upon them, occasional balloons from the earlier coronation parade continued to find their ways upward from under ledges and rooftops, giving the empty air the bittersweet feeling one experiences after a grand party has come to a close. The sun was on its way down and Raven wondered if perhaps the reason at least Princess Luna was late was because she was needed to raise the moon shortly.

"I did not think anyone else would be up here."

Raven looked over his shoulder to find a face he knew very well approaching. His knowledge of the face was not personal, but rather the individual was so famous, it was hard to not know of her.

"Princess Twilight. I'm honored."

"And I'm not used to that title," the young pony smiled as she approached to stand beside him at an amicable distance. "Don't think I will be for a good thousand years."

Raven silently returned his gaze back to the streets and avenues of Canterlot far below. He knew why the princess was here. He was no mind-reader, of course, nor was he acquainted with her in any fashion, but he had a writer's mind mixed with darkness and a dash of paranoia. Apart from the mind-shattering adjustments she would be obliged to endure, he also knew she had already begun to realize that many of the perks of being an alicorn princess would one day be sources of great pain for her.

But he also knew she understood this, and as such, she did not need him, of all ponies, to remind her of it. Clearly, she was here to try and clear her mind before attending the meet-and-greet. And he just happened to occupy the place where she was gathering herself.

"May I congratulate you on your coronation, princess," he offered respectfully, though the sentiment was rather uninspired. "It was a lovely occasion."

"Thank you," was the socially proper response. After a moment of silence, the newly crowned alicorn, turned to him with a sly grin. "I know who you are. I must have read your book five times."

"I'm flattered, princess," Raven smiled his thanks. And he genuinely was. Reports were that Twilight was first and foremost a pony of science and magic, those two great practices which are kept within the strict boundaries of quantifiable result and information. So to have her enjoy his creative efforts was a great compliment.

"I think I prefer more light-hearted fictions, but your talent is undeniable," she noted in a matter of fact voice.

"Coming from you, that is a great compliment," Raven acknowledged. He felt his old companion Silence begin to settle in and his mind raced at a way he could ward it off. "My invitation tonight came from Princess Luna. Do you know why she would invite me, of all people?" Ok, that was far more straightforward than was probably appropriate.

"Honestly, I don't know Princess Luna very well yet," Twilight admitted, graciously fielding his query without hesitation. "So I cannot really judge as to how she received your book. I do not know if she has even read it."

Well, that was far less awkward than it could have been. He changed topics.

"Do you usually avoid social gatherings?" he inquired mildly. As it was quite obvious he was doing the same thing, it was no surprise she took the question as the mild jest he had intended it to be.

"If it involves my friends, no," Twilight smiled sadly. "And I do look forward to making more friends from my new position. I just… I look at how many ponies Princess Celestia knows and how few genuine friends she has. That isn't to say she doesn't have friends, but none of them seem like my friends." She took a deep breath, apparently forcing her mind to stop running away from her; how familiar he was with that sensation. "As much as I love Celestia, as much as I aspire to her level of accomplishment, I don't want to be like her. I don't want to be so alone. And I don't even want to imagine how she managed when Princess Luna was… away." There was an inference behind that admission; Princess Twilight knew that someday it was likely she would be just as alone as Celestia was once. Everypony she knew, apart from the princesses, were mortal, and within mortality, as the immortal bard wrote, lies the rub.

"Then I suppose," Raven's voice spoke before he could stop it, "that is where the concept of duty comes in. The self-sacrifice of leadership." Twilight seemed to ponder that for several moments, and as she did, the sun began to sink behind the western mountains.

"I suppose so." Then she seemed to purposefully pick herself up in a resolute manner and a warm smile light up the waning twilight. "But now is not the time for worrying; my friends are still here and I am far from alone!" And she made as though to launch herself on her new wings, then halted herself. "Sir Writingdesk, would you be so kind as to escort a princess back to the ballroom?" Raven bowed low and replied with appropriate aplomb.

"It would be an honor, your Royal Highness."

When Raven and the princess returned to the ballroom, Princesses Celestia and Luna stood atop the stairs in the entryway to the ballroom from the castle proper, and as such when the side doors to the garden were cracked, many eyes turned that way. And when Twilight herself appeared, of course there was much cheering and jubilation at the development, which continued as she teleported herself in a flash of pink and purple to stand beside her new sisters in magic. As for Raven, he did his level best to fade back into the crowd, a feat not easily accomplished as the vast majority of ponies of Equestria always seemed to have such light-colored hides and the contrast of his black one against theirs stood out like a sore hoof. Still, he'd been of a mind that enjoyed vanishing in crowds since he was a colt and so he was quite good at it by now.

Unfortunately, these efforts were quickly stifled as this was not just a Canterlot party. This was a meeting of high society, a place where a pony went to be noticed and heard. Eveypony talked to everypony not necessarily because they were interested, but because such events were used as information exchanges. Everypony did their level best to know every other pony's opinion and intentions on any and all matters of business connected to the topic of the social gathering. In this case, where they stood on the subject of Twilight, what everypony thought of her, and what manner of business they believed could make a profit around her. Egalitarian though Equestria was, there was reason certainly reason as to the existence of an upper class.

Due to this outpouring of aimless conversation, Raven soon found himself lassoed into quid-pro-quo discussions with the other members of the Canterlot elite. He could keep his hooves under himself in these discussions and could, in truth, pull the rhetoric out from under his amicable opponents with razor-keen savvy, but he found such interactions shallow and, because he simply did not care, rather meaningless. He extracted himself as quickly as he could and found solace in the one place in the room he could: the line of Princess Luna's well-wishers. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

At any royal gathering, protocol dictated that the princesses accept a long line of guests who wanted to honor them. The event, while tedious, was an ancient tradition and allowed the opportunity for subjects to approached and address the princesses face to face. The best implementation of this system was during the annual Grand Galloping Gala, because while tickets were difficult to get a hold of, ideally any and every pony from any and every walk of life had the opportunity to speak with one of, both, and now all three, of the princess, which allowed a vast array of perspectives to receive audience.

In tonight's event, it was mainly a medium by which the Canterlot elite could thank the princesses for their respective invitations. Any and all brown-nosing was generally left for the day-to-day functions in court so that the princesses could have at least some time to enjoy the event rather than having to listen to each and every plea and platitude.

Of course, this usual convention had quite rapidly devolved because everypony seemed to be lined up to speak with the newly crowned Princess Twilight, so the wait to address her looked like it could easily last the length of the party. Raven thanked his lucky stars he had gotten the opportunity to speak with her in such a relaxed environment; she seemed like such a nice pony and he hoped the pressures of court would not overwhelm her tonight, let alone the weeks, months, and eventual millennia to follow. Then again, she would have Celestia watching out for her, and that would certainly be a comfort to the young princess

The line to talk to Luna, conversely, was only two ponies long and both of them had said their respective pieces to the midnight blue princess of the night by the time Raven had ascended the stairs.

"Ah, Ser Writingdesk," Luna regally observed as he approached. His stomach flipped-flopped; by all that was green in Equestria, she was lovely. Regal, strong- focus! She's talking to you.

"We found it agreeable that you replied to our invitation as quickly as you did."

"It is my honor and pleasure to serve, your Royal Highness," Raven stated easily, though he let more conviction slip into his tone than he had intended. But he was speaking with Princess Luna; this even was not only a dream come true, but a literal wish made upon a star when he was but a colt. Even as a jaded and arguably insane realist, he still felt warm emotion trying to press down on his windpipe as the reality of the moment sunk in. Then again, maybe that was just the cold dread reemerging as he again wondered why she, of all people, had invited him to this event. More than likely it was a wonderful combination of them both.

"We were intrigued to see you escorting her Royal Highness Twilight back from the gardens," Luna noted imperiously. Ah, yes. That was probably not the most discrete location for a mare and a stallion to venture unaccompanied. Still, as he understood it, he was older than her older brother, so he hoped he would be given the benefit of the doubt in regard to assumptions made about intentions.

"We were not aware you were acquainted with our new sister," continued Luna, and there was something in her voice when she said that. It was not a tone; royalty never seemed to have a tone other than imperious when addressing subjects, but maybe it was the way her eyes made the words sound. There was an edge of protectiveness there, something that told him that he was not addressing Celestia's younger sibling, but Twilight's older sister.

"We are scarcely acquainted," Raven explained, doing his level best to sound as open and honest without being familiar. "The princess was kind enough to engage me in conversation, then, seeing as we were returning to the same location, offered for me to accompany her." There was some inner struggle behind Luna's eyes, and Raven guessed it was likely the princess's sensibilities from the old courts clashing with the new world of easy familiarity in which she now found herself. Whatever the result of her conflicting sentiments, it resulted in a courteous nod to Raven for his explanation, so he bowed low in response, then made to leave.

"Ser Writingdesk," the princess's firm voice bade him look back up to her. "If you would be so kind as to remain once the evening's festivities are concluded; we have a matter to discuss with you." Now that interesting mixture of emotion in his chest sank and gripped his gut with cold fingers.

"Your wish is my command, your Royal Highness," Raven bowed once again, then left. And the evening wore on.

Raven needed a distraction to keep his mind from working in its usual "assess and extrapolate" mind pattern, otherwise he knew he would end up dissecting possibilities of what Luna had meant and what I might mean and what would happen, and he was in no mood to play that game. He had just conversed with his childhood idol, and likely would again before the night was out; he would not ruin the mood as he had so many special occasions before. Not this time. And as luck or fate would have it, distractions ensued.

It turned out that there were several faces that Raven recognized appearing in the midst of the party, and the bonus was that he did in fact desire the opportunity to talk with. Vinyl, for instance, had finally made her appearance, fashionably late as always of course, and Raven went out of his way to touch bases with the superstar DJ. Vinyl was an interesting pony whose appetite for fun was extreme enough to label her "deviant" amongst the upper crust. Of course, deviant was right up Raven's alley and while he did not personally enjoy the over-the-top rambunctiousness of Vinyl's parties, her "Discord may care" attitude appealed to him and in that shared perspective, they understood one another very well. She had even made a dub-step single based on his book, naming her creation "Quoth the Raven," of all things. He had been, and still was, quite flattered by her effort, even more so when it had actually become a major hit.

After talking to Vinyl, Raven found the opportunity to pick the DJ's friend and roommate Octavia out of the crowd. A more refined, upper-crust pony, Octavia had long been a face in the Canterlot Court due to her unparalleled skills as a cellist and composer. How she and Vinyl had become friends, let alone roommates, Raven would never know, but her association with the hardcore DJ as well as her own limitless creativity in the area of musical composition made her interesting enough that he liked to converse with her when given the opportunity. And, of course, both the cellist and the DJ were genuine geniuses in their respective mediums, just as he was in his, so conversations between the three of them always brought some interesting ideas and perspectives to the fore. Unfortunately, due to the occasion, such a prolonged discussion was not on the agenda and Raven was forced to take his leave before too long.

Feeling uncharacteristically positive and rather sociable after this sudden influx conversation, Raven began to proactively work the room. He touched bases several ponies he knew in a professional capacity: Bon Bon, a celebrity confectionist who often exhibited several personality peculiarities of her own, Lyra, a successful independent musician, Sibsy, an artist of critical acclaim, and a brown stallion of limitless eccentricity who everyone simply knew as "The Doctor." The Doctor was always a wonder to talk to, and this night he was accompanied by a blond-maned date with… unique eyes. Initially, Raven was inclined to wonder what was wrong with the Doctor's wall-eyed companion, but then again, who was he to think of any condition as being wrong? Where was the inherent "wrongness" of derped eyes and a speech impediment? And in truth, she was a very sweet pony. A little clumsy, but so sweet that despite himself Raven was nearly brought to tears for all the smiling he found himself doing in her company, and when social convention obliged him to leave, he found he was very sorry to see her go.

And the evening wore on.

Royal events rarely seemed to have a moment where they are deemed to have ended. One moment, the ballroom is full of light conversation and background music, the next everyone realizes that the princesses have taken their leave. Many guests adjourn to the gardens, others trail to the exit one by one, in pairs, or small groups. The small orchestra packs its instruments while the servants begin cleaning tables and the floors. Conversation quickly becomes retrospective as the room dwindles, with everypony talking about what a superb occasion it had been. And seeing as this was an event that would quite literally never happen for at least another five lifetimes, it truly had been a party of special magnificence. And the in the darkness of the empty ballroom, marble floor still littered with confetti and napkins, Raven calmly continued to sip his spiked punch, staning quietly in his corner. Even when the candles sputtered, then guttered, then died, he remained, empty cup in hoof, smiling into the darkness. He knew social convention should make him wonder if perhaps the princess had misled him, but he was far too excited to think that. It was nighttime and that meant no pony was about; no pony could see him. For all intents and purposes, for just a few moments, he was no more than a shade in the dark, with only his own thoughts validating that he even existed. It was glorious.

For a long while, Raven remained in his corner, hidden amongst the shadows. The ballroom was actually surprisingly well-lit, thanks to a robust amount of moonlight which cast the empty venue in a liquid blue light. It was as though he were staring through the waters of the ocean. And it was beautiful.

Raven watched as a pair of guards moved past on patrol, walking in perfect step from the entrance to the castle, down the stairs past his corner, through deflated balloons and ribbon, then finally passed through the large double doors on the opposite side end of the marble hall. They closed the door behind themselves. Raven heard a key turn in the lock, the quiet sound of the bolt echoed ethereally around him as it slid comfortably home. By all the magic there was, he loved the night.

"If-"

Raven nearly jumped out of his own skin, and literally leapt off his hooves as he spun toward what had startled him.

"By Celestia!" he cursed before he could stop himself. Luna emerged from the around shadows of the corner of the ballroom on the other side of the doors to the castle. Raven exhaled a great breath.

"Forgive me, your Royal Highness," he breathed. "I had lost myself amongst the darkness." The princess did not immediately respond. In fact, her face was… unreadable. It was not an expression of stoic control, but rather he could tell very clearly that there was something happening in her mind, only he could not even remotely begin to put a hoof on what precisely she was thinking.

Now able to focus his attentions as he recovered from his unforeseen ordeal, Raven was immediately struck by Luna's appearance. She was beautiful, as always, but seeing her in the moonlight, under her cover of darkness, it was something beyond beauty. The way she held her head and looked out from her eyes, even the manner in which she placed her hooves on the ground displayed that this time of shadow and moonlight was her element. This was where she belonged. But perhaps most intriguing and wondrous of all was her mane. During the day, her midnight blue mane glimmered under the noon sun, but now, even with no sun, it glimmered just as brightly. It took several seconds for Raven to realize that Luna's mane was, in fact, not reflecting light from any source: it was creating it. He could not help but stare, and as he watched, there were points of light emerging, swelling, fading, peeking out here and there. It was as though she contained a galaxy within her. Or was one herself.

"If you would be so kind as to accompany us?" she inquired evenly, politely breaking his revere. Raven bowed, quite embarrassed for having been startled so easily and then doubly so for unceremoniously staring rather openly at her. Still, he did his best to gather what gravitas he could, then fell into step with the princess as she proceeded toward the gardens. The doors opened for them and they walked into the night air. After the space of five breaths, Luna spoke.

"Two years ago, I attended Ponyville's celebration of Nightmare Night."

Raven had heard of that particular occasion. Apparently, her initial appearance had literally produced screams from the citizens of Ponyville, but he also heard that everything had worked out in the end thanks to none other than the pre-princess Twilight Sparkle. More immediately, he was also interested that she had abruptly stopped employing the royal "we."

"I made… acquaintances with some of my subjects and I was shown that much about pony society had changed since my banishment. But despite the good experience, and it is indeed a memory I shall treasure, I learned something else that night as well. Something less than encouraging. I learned that my act of defiance against the natural order of day and night had not just made me Nightmare Moon, but an idea, a concept. Even after my exile, I remained a nightmare in their dreams. A wraith of the mind. A monster under little ponies beds." Raven said nothing.

"Part of my duties as Lady of the Night is to watch over the dreams of my subjects; there are some creatures better left unspoken of that can find purchase in our world through the sleeping minds of ponies. So I watch. I watch and I cannot help but see." She took a deep breath now, the first indicator Raven had been given as to what might be going on in her mind. "I see that am a nightmare still to some. I was exiled one thousand years, faded into half-forgotten myth, was then returned to my right mind through the power of Friendship, after which I was reinstated thanks to the gracious efforts of my sister, and yet, still, I am a nightmare. I've seen shades of myself in dreams, images conjured by the minds of sleeping ponies. Phillies and colts wake up crying at even an imagined sight of me.

"I cannot blame them. Nightmare Moon was not so much an alter-ego, but rather a title. There was no spell cast over me, no mind-altering device which forced me to do what I did. I became Nightmare Moon by conscientious choice. And my subjects continue to pay for my pride in their nightmares."

There were several beats of silence, the only sound being that of soft earth under their hooves. Luna continued.

"I read your book. It scared me. Frequently. It took nearly two weeks for me to get through it, it gripped me so. It was… It was as though you took my mind, turned it upside down, and spilled its contents over empty pages. Only…"

Raven dared not interrupt.

They walked in silence past a stone statue of an ancient hero, then past a pair of peacocks sleeping in a tree; Raven ducked to his right to avoid the male's long tail plumage. The large bird clucked in his sleep as they passed underneath. The night was still and mild. There was no noise; even the crickets were enraptured by the perfect night. Raven's flanks twitched in a shiver, even though he was not cold.

"It was beautiful, Raven," she finally spoke in a half-heard whisper. Then, regaining her voice, "You showed the world the darkness I had embraced, that I still carry locked deep inside. That perhaps I had always carried. But you showed me that I was no longer alone in that darkness; you were there in the blackness with me, and you embraced it. You made it beautiful; you showed Equestria that darkness is not equivalent to evil. That not all things good and beautiful shine under the sun for all to see. That some of the most glorious things in this world exist in the shadows, unseen and unpraised because they are unsought." She did not attempt to look him in the eye, and he did not attempt to initiate a gaze either. "I think I had forgotten how beautiful my nighttime was. How beautiful it always has been and will be. I don't know when I forgot, but I did. And you… Thank you, Raven. My most royal, most sincere, and most personal thanks to you." Raven was at a loss for words; he did not trust himself to speak.

"Your Royal Majesty," he heard himself say, his voice low and quiet with admiration, humility, and emotion. "I could not ask for, nor even imagine, a greater compliment."

Neither individual spoke another word for the remainder of the night. They simply walked under the bright night sky. Raven scarcely noticed when his hooves passed from manicured grass to marble, then to cobblestone. He did not consider that they were walking down hill, he did not even consider how long they had been travelling. But eventually, he merely realized that he was standing before the door to his apartment. And then she was gone.