Every 1,000 years, a new chapter rises from the depths of the ocean. My writing comes from R'lyeh, the city of the dreamer and the domain of dreams. Also it's about magic horses and their personal problems.

Luna sat patiently on her bedroom floor, the sun setting on her balcony. Her new Vizier ran a brush down her coat. Thanks to Celestia, this was not traditionally how a Princess prepared for work, but Luna was enjoying the feeling. It was nice. What was wrong with being pampered a little? Sure, a goddess could groom herself in a snap if she wanted, and that was much more efficient, but it was better having someone there when Luna woke up.

"Hastur?" Luna asked. "What's it like having children?"

Hastur continued brushing. He mulled over the question for several seconds.

"I suppose it is an evolutionary prerogative," the lizard decided.

Luna let the answer settle. It was more or less what she had expected from the dragon. She figured Carcosans didn't have the same kind of relationship with their kids that ponies did, but sometimes Hastur surprised her.

"Is it nice?" Luna tried.

Again, Hastur hesitated.

"I suppose one might call it a mixed blessing?" he suggested. "They grow to be competitors, but I am satisfied to have them."

Luna lapsed into silence again. She didn't talk about this sort of subject much with others. Mainly, she'd had the conversation with Celestia, but it always devolved into Celestia telling her what to think.

"Celestia thinks a goddess shouldn't have foals," Luna confided.

She waited. Hastur tipped her head back and brushed out Luna's mane. He didn't seem to have a response.

"Sometimes I think she's right," Luna expressed. "If I met a stallion, he'd die of old age one day."

"Perhaps he'd die content to have loved our Goddess," suggested Hastur, carefully. "Seems quite the bragging rights, I would believe."

Luna dwelled on that. She'd been back and forth on the subject in her own mind before. She'd woken up this evening with a bit of hope in her heart. Maybe this was Luna's chance to start over. She didn't have to be a princess. She wasn't very good at it, anyway, and she didn't know anything about contemporary politics. Maybe it was time to do the things she wanted to do. Celestia would want her to come back and rule at her side, but now Celestia wasn't in charge of everything.

"I guess," Luna tested, trying to mount the confidence for this proposal. "What if I made a disguise and settled down with a nice stallion somewhere? Maybe on a farm or someplace quiet. I could pretend to age."

Hastur stopped brushing. Luna hoped he'd understand. He always seemed more understanding than Luna's sister. Luna really wanted someone's support in this.

"You are making a very interesting proposal," Hastur remarked.

Luna cringed.

"Maybe it's a bad idea," she capitulated. "I don't know if I can even..."

Luna couldn't bring herself to say it. It made her feel embarrassed. She didn't know if it was possible for alicorns to have foals. She didn't know if she could get a stallion interested either, for that matter, but even if she did, she'd feel guilty if she trapped him in an unfair situation. Now she wanted to drop the whole thing. Celestia was always right. It was so frustrating, but she was always right.

"I must say," Hastur went on, "I am quite proud of myself."

Luna blinked. Somehow, they'd switched tracks without Luna catching the signal.

"Are you looking forward to your party tonight?" Hastur asked.

Luna felt the grip of rejection. She was being handled. She tried to open up to Hastur about something very personal, and now he was just playing her off.

"Not especially," Luna murmured, honestly.

"Well, it is quite the coincidence that you should mention interest in disguises," Hastur said.

He brushed Luna's hair while Luna sulked.

Scratch, Dub, and Twilight came to the clearing of the old Lunar Ruins. Dub and Twilight stopped in place, gasping in awe at the sight. It was nothing like Twilight had described it. For one it was intact, and for another it was so much more natural. The entire place looked organic, like the small, black citadel had somehow grown out of the earth itself. Several sculptures about the place also had the very distinct appearance of slick liveliness.

Scratch paced in circles while she waited for her entourage to move along. She needed to use the bathroom again, but their destination was right there and Scratch was having a hard time thinking of more than one objective at a time. She was liable not to remember most of the night. If she were just tired she may have been patient, even happy to sit still for a little while, but all the caffeine had taken her weariness and had shoved it to the forefront of her mind like a pissed off bull behind a rotted gate.

"Chill out, Scratch," Dub recommended. "We're early. There's no rush!"

Scratch thought to say something derisive, but no words presented themselves. Besides, she was too tired to fight, as much as she wanted to. Instead, Scratch plopped her flank down on the glowing cobbles as dramatically as possible, erupting a wave of darkness away from her rump. The DJ didn't notice, baring down on Twilight and Dub with the straightest, most no-nonsense face a blue-haired little pony in sunglasses could muster. They could think the cobbles were awesome later.

Wordlessly, sensing spastic calamity on the horizon, Dub and Twilight proceeded along, approaching the front gate of the citadel. Haltingly, they came aware as a group that what had appeared to be a pair of sandstone sculptures were very much alive and very much possessed the kind of claws that wouldn't give a pony long to think about peril. Twilight didn't know what the creatures were. Young dragons, possibly, since they were known to be smaller and stand on two feet like this, but they didn't seem to have that youthful lack of polish. Their lack of polish was too austere, like skulls staring eternally into empty space.

All three ponies stalled in slow motion, Scratch balking the hardest since she was finding some difficulty in rearranging thoughts this quickly. The dragons stared at them balefully, unmoving with the patient stillness of nature's most ancient predators. It occurred to all three ponies at once that they may have the wrong address, but they'd already chosen the freeze response, and Dub was still hitched to the cart. If they had to run from these things, Dub wouldn't make it.

The tribal drums of their ancestry beat in their minds. One of the dragons moved. It tilted its head. If it had stepped forward who knew what would happen, but this quizzical expression was just non-threatening enough not to warrant panic.

"We are expecting guests," it offered, quietly, but the voice held grit. It was choked with an accent that slithered and snapped bones with its teeth.

Twilight's mouth dropped open in preparation to respond, but nothing escaped. She'd faced some frightening things before, but those things had usually betrayed a sense of friend or foe. These gave the impression of not wanting to attack, of wanting Twilight to be at ease, and for their threatening physique were all that much more terrible for it.

"You are here to see the Goddess Luna?" the dragon asked.

Twilight nodded.

"A toll is requested," the grim face of death informed.

Scratch began chugging back to consciousness. She remembered something the strange yellow pony had said about dragons. She'd been warned this would happen. Then she remembered the bag of rubies. Some of the stones she was allowed to keep, but the rest she had to give to these dragons. If she didn't – she couldn't remember if there had been a threat, but standing here now she was almost positive there had been one.

Scratch backed into the cart. Keeping one eye on the dragons and one on what she was doing, she levitated a box out from between some equipment. She unlocked it and withdrew the bag inside. She'd already taken some rubies out and she was pretty sure she'd only held on to the agreed amount, but she and the yellow pony had discussed cash rather than pawning rubies. Scratch didn't have all that great of an idea what the things were worth.

Still, now she was sure that there was a little more at stake than her roof repairs. She thrust the bag into the outstretched palm of the sentry with a little more force than necessary. The lizard opened it and examined the contents. The beast did not smile or seem capable of it, but its eyes did widen, and it shut the bag quickly before his neighbor could peruse the payment.

The dragon turned its back to the ponies, his companion attempting to look over his shoulder, neck outstretched like a bird. When he returned, the bag had been stolen away to some mysterious location and the creature had produced three gilded opera masks. It handed them to the girls.

"All visitors must wear the mask," the dragon ordered.

Twilight inspected the mask, turning it over with her magic.

"Why?" she asked at last.

"These are the Goddess's rules," the dragon replied.

"That we wear these little masks?" Twilight clarified. "I get that, but I mean, why?"

The dragon hesitated.

"Because," it decided.

"Just because?" Twilight asked, politely.

The one guard glanced at the other. After a moment of helpless staring, the second snarled something nasty sounding. The first began throaty barks and hisses in return. They rose to one another in what seemed a temporary dominance struggle, then, as if nothing had happened at all, the first guard returned his attention to Twilight.

"Why not?" the dragon decided.

"Well I'm just saying, it seems pretty silly," Twilight complained, haughtily.

"Why?" the dragon asked.

This stumped Celestia's best and brightest pupil momentarily. She was used to the Socratic method, however, and prepared herself for the long philosophical debate ahead.

"It just doesn't seem with the times," Twilight replied, knowing that Rarity would have the same contention. "A tiny little gold mask? It's like something someone would pick up from one of the Canterlot bathhouses!"

Scratch didn't know anything about Canterlot's bathhouses, but that still caused her to give the mask a slightly more careful look. What kind of party was this going to be, exactly? The dragon didn't seem to know anything about Canterlot's bathhouses either, and froze. Twilight smiled smugly. Of course, now it was hard to say what should happen next. If they didn't wear the masks, then they wouldn't be going inside. This dragon wasn't making the rules after all.

"You will please wear the mask," the dragon requested.

Twilight sighed, placed the mask over her face, then stopped. She was looking at Scratch. Her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, like she'd seen a monster in the closet. Scratch looked around herself, half expecting to see another hoof-sized spider crawling up her shoulder. This Everfree Forest thing was such a drag. Scratch wasn't going to jut squash the spider this time, she was going to eat the thing in front of its children so the rest of spider kind would learn. But there was no spider, and the next logical conclusion arrived.

Scratch looked her mask over once before donning it, and suddenly she became aware of Twilight's horror. Across from her was a brown mare she'd never seen in her life. Scratch couldn't put her hoof on it, but something was strange. She knew that the pony across from her was Twilight in a very convincing disguise, but Scratch couldn't tell by looking now. She didn't recognize any of Twilight's physical features or her cutie mark.

Both mares removed the masks at once. They found each other recognizable again. This. This is what the masks were for? So that no pony could identify one another? Twilight had just been punching holes with her bathhouse comment, but if Canterlot's bathhouses had masks like this – well, the bathhouses would probably be illegal, eventually. That and rife with more diseases than ever.

"What?" Dub asked, still holding her mask out in front of her suspiciously.

"They're -" Twilight began to explain. "Just put it on. You'll see."

Dub obeyed.

"Whoah!" she awed. "I can't tell you guys apart!"

"I know," Twilight agreed, sounding concerned.

"This is so cool!" Dub proclaimed, seeing the obvious benefits of anonymity before the drawbacks.

Scratch decided she didn't care. In a better mood, she'd probably be with Dub on this, party animal that she was. Scratch was eager to get this job over with, though, so no point in delaying the inevitable. She put the mask back on and thoughtlessly embraced not being able to tell Twilight apart from her close friend. Scratch was sure Twilight could be just as annoying whether Scratch recognized her or not.

"The masks cannot be removed within the walls of the Goddess's domicile," warned the dragon.

"Do you guys have a bathroom?" Scratch asked, utterly deleting the warning from her perception.

The dragon withered. It had been a rough start for the poor guard. He hadn't been very well trained for this, and these ponies were sucking a lot of the moment out of things.

"Proceed down the hall and to the left," the dragon directed ominously, in tones of fearful malice. It was hard to give directions to the restroom in a menacing way, but the dragon tried.

Luna was already wearing her mask when Scratch and her friends arrived. The difference was, as Hastur had explained, that hers wasn't enchanted. She could freely take the mask off whenever she wanted, and she could recognize any pony that showed up to the party, unlike her patrons. It was Luna's chance to see how she liked being a normal pony, and if she didn't like it the masks could be changed.

The only problem was, she didn't recognize any of the ponies in Scratch's group, and Hastur had said that Scratch was supposed to bring Twilight Sparkle with her. Luna remembered Twilight well, or well enough, seeing as how she was the leader of the group that stopped her brief and clumsy return as Nightmare Moon. Twilight was decidedly purple, and none of these ponies were purple.

She did want to talk to Twilight and find out what she was like. Luna didn't know what she'd say, but she hoped Twilight was ridiculously smart, and Luna had imagined Twilight was very pretty. She already knew Twilight must have had a lot of confidence. Basically, the last thing Luna wanted to find out was that Twilight was a neurotic, smarmy shut-in who had trouble making friends and who was decidedly average in many other regards. Finding there was no Twilight Sparkle yet, Luna had taken to watching like a cat in tall grass, crouching between the basalt banisters of the upper floor, as the DJ set up for the performance.

Luna was beginning to feel nervous about this entire party. She'd thought she could speak to Twilight alone, and Twilight could have introduced Luna to all her friends. Now, however, she was going to have to introduce herself to perfect strangers, and being that Luna didn't do much of anything and didn't know about the contemporary world, that would involve a lot of dead silences.

The goddess did have one thing counting for her confidence, and that was that she'd already been drinking. The Carcosans had changed the mixture so that it wouldn't hit so hard, but Luna liked the way it made her feel. It probably wasn't good to become dependent on the stuff, but it made her more friendly and upbeat. Right now she had a slight buzz. The extra energy was probably only contributing to her nervousness, but maybe she could find an outlet for that later and everything would be okay.

"Enough mulling things over!" Luna's inner voice rallied. "We've spent a lot of time over-thinking life, and now it's time to make mistakes without consequences! If we say something stupid, just pretend we're someone else!"

Luna slunk away from her hiding spot and plodded carefully down the stairs, stopping after each click of her horseshoes on the stone stairwell. They probably wouldn't hear Luna while they were busy setting up, but Luna didn't want to interrupt them. She didn't want them to know she'd been secretly watching them either. In fact, baring that in mind, Luna might have been better off making as much noise as possible, but she shook her head, dismissing that as the drink talking.

If her dragon guards noticed the weirdness of her behavior as she sidled around the entry to the main hall, they were either already used to it or were politely ignoring their goddess. Luna came to a halt. She sat down. Would it be more awkward if she went to them or if they caught her staring from the doorway? Normally another pony was supposed to announce Luna's entrance so she could avoid this kind of embarrassment. Now that she was thinking about it, how did ordinary ponies usually walk into a room? She never noticed! Did they just do it, or -

Luna lost the initiative. The first pony to spot her was a brown one, the second a more latte sort of tinge. They both stared at Luna with ears perked and eyes sharp, like deer stumbled into on a forest path. Unwittingly, Luna responded with the same flustered look. Scratch, who caught on last, only glanced up from her work for a second before snatching a mess of cables from the mouth of the latte pony.

"Hello!" offered the brown pony convivially, waving a hoof. The greeting turned downward quickly, however, and trailed into the distance at Luna's continuing expression of mounting apprehension.

Luna couldn't remember what had prompted her to come down in the first place now. Somewhere there had been a plan, but social contact had reached underneath that plan and heaved it into the air with all its might. Luna was scrambling to gather the flying, disjointed pieces, and somewhere one of her internal filing ponies was demanding to know who'd drawn all these doodles on the backs of the rational behavior paperwork.

"Uh, hello?" the brown pony suggested.

"Say hello!" Luna's inner voice plead.

"Hello," Luna obeyed stiffly.

"Hello my name is!" Luna's inner voice directed.

"Hello my name is - " Luna paused, realizing she could not, for the life of her, think of any good pony names besides her own.

"Trevor!" the inner voice moderated hastily.

"Trevor," Luna went along.

"Sprinkles!" the inner voice tacked on, remembering modern names were more colorful these days.

"Sprinkles," Luna agreed, thankful for the help but not catching up to it. "Hello, my name is Trevor Sprinkles," she said, hoping this full statement could be accepted with more confidence on the second go.

The brown pony raised an eyebrow. The latte one scrunched her face into a stifled giggle.

"My parents wanted a boy," Luna excused.

She exchanged sour, mental glances with her inner self, who shrugged innocently.

"They were necromancers," Luna lied, dejectedly.

She'd already blown everything, but she'd learned enough from her sister to know that a large, particularly stupid lie could squeak by more easily than small ones. Plus, if they'd believe something as outlandish as that she descended from a line of ponies who raised the dead for a living, then her equally outlandish behavior and name would make sense in context.

The wry smile faded from the lips of the brown pony.

"They... what?" she faltered.

Okay, Luna had spun the falsehood. Now what? She wasn't sure how to maintain it.

"Oh, yes," Luna decided. "My parents were from a very well known tribe of necromancers who -" She stopped. From the look on the brown pony's face, Luna could tell her embellishment was not having the desired effect.

They look of sheer affrontment faded gradually as Luna balked, and the brown pony's lips came to form an 'O'.

"I see," the brown pony said, thoughtfully. "Okay! And my name is her Duchess Whimsy Prisspot of Canterlot. For a minute there I didn't realize you were playing a disguise!"

The information that passed through Luna's ears didn't quite match up with the information in her head. She was playing a disguise. It was not supposed to be fun to get caught playing a disguise – lying was wrong - but for whatever reason this pony thought it was a very clever game.

"You are playing a disguise, aren't you?" the brown pony asked uncertainly, sensing something wrong.

"What now!" Luna panicked at her inner self.

"Everything is fine," Luna's inner voice attempted. "We just have to remember that it's more important to avert problems before they become problems."

"Okay," Luna agreed. It was sound logic. "But what now!"

"Hello?" the brown pony ventured again.

"We need time to think!" Luna's inner voice recommended. "Try and distract her. Ask her about -"

Luna gasped and pointed. The other ponies looked. Luna ran.

Luna mooned in her bed, the covers drawn up over her head.

"That's not what we were talking about," Luna's inner voice berated. "If we wanted to run, we would have just suggested running!"

"We're such an idiot!" Luna whimpered, "Forget the party. This was a stupid idea."

"We can't just live alone forever," Luna's inner voice huffed. "Princess or not, personal interaction needs to be handled with less skiddishness. This is exactly one of the major problems we had as Nightmare Moon. If you recall there was -"

Luna's body twitched and her vision flashed. When the moment faded, she felt clammy and could feel the wet tears on her cheeks. She remembered crying, but couldn't draw a bead on the thoughts she'd been having at the time. She knew why she had been upset in the first place, but the time spent between then and now suddenly seemed very brief.

Luna heard a knock at her door.

"Come in," she grumbled from her bed.

She heard the familiar clacking of large talons on her stone floor, and the door shut behind them.

"Goddess?" presumed a deep voice.

"I hate this party," Luna whined, petulantly.

"But Goddess, you haven't stepped outside since the party began," Hastur protested.

The bed compressed as the dragon sat down next to the princess-shaped lump. Luna pulled the covers tightly over her head in refusal.

"It started?" she asked, poking her face out only slightly.

Hastur nodded.

"Where's the music?" Luna asked.

"You won't be able to hear it from your room," Hastur explained, patiently.

Luna shook her head.

"Your room is sound proof," the dragon persisted.

"But I can hear birds when I go to bed in the mornings," Luna disagreed.

"You leave your windows open," Hastur dismissed. "Come, step outside and you will see."

Luna pulled the covers back over her head.

"Hastur, no!" Luna insisted. "I don't want a big party anymore. I don't like crowds! I can't even introduce myself to three ponies who won't recognize me later!"

"But your guests are already here," Hastur caressed, carefully placing a claw on Luna's back. "They are playing games. I'm am sure they would love to meet you."

Luna shook her head and groaned in the negative.

"They've been drinking. I am sure you will be able - " Hastur tried.

"No!" Luna shouted, bounding up to her haunches. "No," She repeated, glaring into Hastur.

Hastur only stared back placidly in response, as was his singular custom. He did not press the matter any further. Luna, realizing she'd won the argument, settled back down into bed and put her head on her hooves.

"I don't even really care," the goddess confessed. "Really. About any of it. I mean -" Luna glowered. "I do care. I want ponies to like me and everything. I'm just so sick of this. All this planning and worrying who thinks what and everything."

Luna gazed up at Hastur, hoping for some signal of understanding. Sometimes he wasn't always on the mark, but Luna liked Hastur. He seemed to get along with Luna. He got Luna. At the moment, he was only listening. He said nothing, and Luna frowned into her pillows.

"And you know what I really hate?" Luna asked, rhetorically. "I hate Celestia."

Normally she felt badly for these kinds of thoughts. Celestia was usually looking out for Luna, but at the moment it was how the goddess felt. It was weight off her chest saying so.

"I mean it, I hate her!" Luna proceeded, enjoying the relief of a good vent. "Every time I used to meet a boy, Celestia always wanted to meet him too, and guess who's the more interesting sister? Guess who! Celestia, that's who!"

Luna flipped her pillow against the wall.

"Politicians always wind up going through Celestia for everything. I can't do any speeches! I get too nervous! And she's always trying to push me to do the things that she does, but I'm terrible at them. I hate her! I hate her so much! But do you know what she does if I tell her what I think? She just calmly looks me in the eyes and she tells me why I'm wrong, and she always wins."

The princess buried her head in her hooves and sighed.

"You know, the last time I ever had a suitor – and I mean a really good suitor that I really liked – he got bored and started... doing things with one of my maids. Celestia fired the maid. Only thing I did was cry about it. That sort of thing doesn't happen to her! She doesn't lose love interests, even though they never get anything! They die in love with her."

Luna was scowling furiously now, throwing her hooves in the air as she spoke. Her wings were poised rigidly over her body like an agitated scorpion preparing to strike.

"And, I mean, it's like, what? What's so great about her? Do you know who marched around in the rain and snow with the armies during the unification wars? Me. That's who! Celestia just did her stupid thing and then pretends she won the wars. But you want to know what won the wars? The good old Nightmare Princess! The one nobody worships."

"Just point Luna somewhere, and after enough blood, sweat, and tears, it's all over. And that's why I -"

Luna felt a sudden jolt wrack her body. She bounded upright and threw her wings out. Her breathing became lodged in her throat. Bright lights fell over her vision like snow, and somewhere in the distance she could hear someone singing some upbeat little tune about perfecting gifts for friends. The next thing Luna knew, she was laying in bed again. Luna was tired. She didn't want to go to her party.

"Goddess, what kind of role did you play in those wars?" Hastur asked, quietly.

Luna squinted at her vizier. The wars? That seemed completely out of the blue. Weren't they just talking about the party?

"Why?" Luna replied.

Hastur hesitated.

"I was just thinking. If you were a military officer, then you must know something about inspiration and forthright behavior," the dragon said, delicately.

It was such a strange thing for Hastur to suddenly jump into. But then, dragons were more violent creatures. In his world, Luna decided, maybe there was a really strong connection between fighting ability and getting along with others.

"I was never in charge of anything, if that's what you mean," Luna clarified. "I didn't boost morale except by being there. Mainly I just cast a lot of difficult spells. I didn't even win all the time. Sometimes there weren't enough of us, or sometimes there were too many and not enough food."

"Well..." Hastur muttered, sounding genuinely sympathetic somehow. "Goddess, will you please join me at your party? I am quite lonely out there."

Luna smiled and nudged Hastur with her foreleg.

"Lonely?" she asked. "Do Carcosans get lonely?"

"The ponies are avoiding me," Hastur reported, wistfully.

"Do you want to stay here with me and play a board game?" Luna suggested. They were just two strange customers in one pod.

Hastur sighed.

"I need to get back to administrating the party," he resigned, and rose from the bed.

He morosely lumbered out of Luna's room and shut the door gingerly behind him. It wasn't long before Luna's conscience caught up to her. She washed her face and found her opera mask, slipping it on before slipping out the door to find her dragon friend.

The music hit Luna like a tidal wave the moment she stepped past the door frame. There weren't any incentives to be on the upper floor, but ponies were still crowding around the balconies and mingling in the guest rooms in order to escape the much larger group down below. On the dance floor was a mass of colorful bodies, the successful reality of cramming an entire town's worth of miniature equines into one building. The pixie lighting of the castle had crawled up the walls to escape Luna's visitors, thrashing and flowing like runny stars in a mad gravitational pull.

She spotted Hastur in one of the far corners. Like all the dragons, his presence had produced a small bubble of personal space in which the lighting pooled and curled around his reptilian feet. Luna pushed past a few ponies to get to him. The princess did her best not to be noticed and not to trip over anyone's legs, but while the first task was going well enough the second was a bit of a challenge between a few heavily drunken guests.

Floundering at last to her vizier, Luna propped herself up against the wall to reach the dragon's ear.

"The music is too loud!" she complained, for lack of a better conversation topic.

Hastur nodded. He reached behind Luna's head and gestured with an outstretched claw towards the stairway. Luna obliged, and the two proceeded. Ponies that noticed them gave a wide berth. Ones that didn't sprang out of the way in shock when they discovered a horrible yellow crocodile at their backs. The entire escort drew some attention – quite a lot of starting and even a few jeers. It must have looked to anyone else as though Luna was being led off the premises.

Once outside and away from the noise, Luna found herself beset by the little glowing specters of her garden. She'd gotten used to them by now, knowing that they didn't crawl or lay eggs. However, there were ponies outside as well, many without masks, and with the magical lighting qualities of her garden all drifting towards her like she was some kind of faintly tugging black hole, Luna suddenly became the center of attention.

"I thought you had to administrate the party," Luna mumbled, still following Hastur.

"I do," Hastur excused. "Should anyone require me I will be accessible here."

"Couldn't we have stayed in my room?" Luna asked, finding a renewed longing for board games.

"Others could not so easily come and go from your room," Hastur replied.

The dragon sat down beneath a tree by the lake. Luna plopped down on her haunches besides him. Two fillies and a stallion were swimming nearby, the only ones to build up the courage for it so far. The girls had been wrestling in a manner that very closely resembled mounting each other, much to the bawdy joy of their male audience, and Luna couldn't help but shoot them a reproving look before averting her eyes to the ground. It only elicited hushed whispers as a response.

"Well I'm outside. I've seen the party. I still hate it and everyone is staring at me," Luna whispered in denouncement.

"It must not be often the moon goddess is in their midst," Hastur deduced.

"Hastur, please. I'm going back to my room," Luna said. She was torn in a way, though. She did want to be out having fun. The water did look nice. Just not... in front of everybody.

"You've only just stepped out," Hastur replied, nonchalantly.

"This party is lewd," Luna protested. "There are ponies who are – who are -! They are sharing intimate moments in my hallways!"

Luna was referring, of course, to a few couplings she'd spotted who were kissing or necking on the balconies. Luna's citadel had not exactly established a minimum age requirement, so adventurous youths were not absent or sober, and the occasional gaggle of small children were on the loose, mainly contented with the gardens away from the majority of noisy adults. If Luna knew what a few ponies were electing to do behind the closed doors of the guest rooms, she'd have had a heart attack.

"You know, I agree," Hastur said. "I hadn't realized you held morals against such behavior, but my stay in Canterlot led me to believe that ponies merely proceeded in this fashion."

Luna frowned. She'd been taught that times had changed. Ponies were more open about their romantic affairs now. Stallions were allowed to join the military by choice rather than a standard draft. Mares didn't always have to be caregivers or herd leaders. But it hadn't taken to the old goddess well, and Luna still maintained a very firm impression that there was correct and incorrect behavior.

"We most certainly do not," Luna condescended. But on the other side of things, ponies most certainly did. The two fillies in the lake had already gone back to splashing around and insinuating lascivious behavior. "Normally we would not, but society today is -"

Luna paused. There was definitely something wrong with society today. What was it?

"Not any good leadership?" suggested Luna's inner voice.

Luna nodded, appreciating this thought.

"What's wrong with society today is that ponies have lost all their good influences," Luna explained. "One bad apple spoils the bunch." The trite folk wisdom covered enough bases for her unformulated gripe at the moment.

"An odd expression," Hastur mused. "What does it mean, exactly?"

"Well," Luna mulled. "I guess it means that all it takes is one pony to do something he or she shouldn't." Luna leaned in towards Hastur, covering their faces with her wing. "Like these ponies here in the lake. A few bad influences start doing something, and pretty soon other ponies will think it's become socially acceptable." The princess withdrew. "That's why some ponies are being intimate in my halls. One pony -"

"No, two," Luna's inner voice helped.

"Two ponies," Luna continued, "Decided it was the ideal place to parade their hormones around, and now several ponies are doing it. It's the law of society."

"Well if one bad apple is our only concern for the bunch, then why not merely remove your bad apple?" Hastur asked.

That was correct. Luna had to admit.

"Because I guess I don't know who the bad apples are?" Luna guessed.

"For starters, you suggested the ponies in the lake," Hastur said, waving his hand over the scene as if he were erasing the lake from view. "Shall I ask them to depart?"

Luna shrank.

"No," she said, not wanting to be the bad guy.

"Why not? I should like our ponies to enjoy the gardens properly, so if you do not approve -" Hastur started.

"No, no!" Luna cried, putting a silencing hoof close to the dragon's mouth. "They're okay. I guess it's fine if two fillies want to cuddle a little, even if it is terribly suggestive."

"Then the ponies in the hall?" Hastur requested.

"I wish they wouldn't," Luna confessed.

"Then we will relieve them of their privileges," Hastur put forth.

"So they couldn't come back again?" Luna asked.

Hastur nodded.

"No," Luna shook her head. "That doesn't seem fair. If other ponies were doing it before them then how would they know it wasn't allowed?"

"I suppose we can merely offer them the use of a private guest room," Hastur recommended. "That way they will be politely out of sight."

It was a surprisingly good suggestion. There were quite a lot of guest rooms around the place, and it wasn't as though Luna had much use for them.

"That's a good solution," Luna agreed.

"Would that solve our bad apple problem?" Hastur asked.

Luna shrugged.

"Perhaps we might try a positive method as well," Hastur schemed. "If we hire a few ponies to act as figures of authority, they can be used to set a good example and ensure the proper expectations are met."

Luna guessed that made sense. It sounded an awful lot like what guards were for, except with the Carcosans around it would be a purely social role. No one pony could easily match any of the dragons, except maybe Luna herself.

"Although there is one problem," Hastur posited.

Luna blinked.

"What?" she asked.

"What kind of behavior, exactly, shall our planned authorities keep watch for?" Hastur requested.

"Oh!" Luna replied. Of course Hastur would ask that. It was one of the drawbacks to having a dragon vizier and friend. He always had to have certain social conventions explained. "For starters we should strictly discourage anything lewd, violent, or otherwise vulgar."

Hastur returned a blank look, which he was much too good at.

"Like public indecency, for example," Luna clarified.

"How shall I know if the public is indecent?" Hastur asked, neutrally.

"Well, by – if you find they are being morally reprehensible," Luna sputtered, losing ground to a helpful and cooperative opponent.

Hastur shook his head and spread his hands.

"Goddess, as you are aware, I am unfamiliar with Equestria's customs and moral postures. If I am to delegate such responsibilities, I will need a very clear understanding of what they are," he said.

Luna rubbed her head. Morals were simply something one grew up with. A pony knew right from wrong – Luna was sure that the fillies in the lake knew they were pushing the bounds of salaciousness and they were every bit feeling guilty deep down, but how would one explain it to a complete outsider to society? These things one normally picked up from folk tales and so forth as a child.

"Unfortunately," Hastur continued, seeming to sense Luna's dilemma, "I believe this is something I will have to learn from some observation and a bit of guidance, and it may require careful explanation to the other Carcosans as well."

That was also a good point. By now, most of the garden had gone back to its regular routine, excluding occasional newcomers who were delightfully but politely surprised by Luna's appearance, and they were all completely unaware that the souls in charge of the grounds were about to be policing the place. Luna had been a sensation for a little while, but by doing nothing she'd become too boring for spectators. It didn't even matter now; Luna was grappling with big philosophical questions and her answers were several centuries dated.

Luna still believed that codpieces had noteworthy health benefits and that a pony who wore horseshoes that completely covered his hooves could potentially be hiding five-toed monkey feet, a sure sign they were agents of the mad god Discord. Other signs included crab claws, extra heads, riding a tandem bicycle unaccompanied, and there was also that thing with a ukelele. Luna made a mental note to mention proper use of musical instruments on her list of rules and guidelines for the new castle.

"Goddess," Hastur nudged, snapping Luna away from her reflections, "I believe the best strategy for the time being is if you could point out for me what kinds of behavior you wish to have weeded. To that end, if you could mingle some for the next few nights, you can flag a guard whenever you spot something to which attention must be drawn."

Luna groaned.

"Me?" she lamented.

Hastur nodded gravely.

"There is no other way for me to learn your ethical qualms. This will be most efficient," he stated.

"Maybe we can hire someone first, and I can explain the morals to that pony?" Luna offered.

"It seems rather bureaucratic to hire staff merely to tell other staff what their roles are," Hastur rationalized.

Luna heaved a surrendering sigh.

"Fine," she grated.

"I am sure I will not take long to learn, especially if we begin right away," Hastur said.

"Can we start tomorrow?" Luna ebbed.

"Of course not," Hastur contended. "If we wait any longer, then more ponies will fall into the missteps of erroneous social normalcy. Your citadel will become a den of excess and depravity, and that is an eventuality we explicitly wish to avoid."

Hastur rose to his feet and ushered Luna along with him. The princess followed along grumpily, allowing the double doors of her castle to be shut behind her like the heavy gate of a prison cell. Hastur ordered a smooth, glossy, wooden chalice to Luna, which Luna had to admit was probably a cheap and safe way to serve a lot of drinks while still maintaining some class. It contained the same milky drink that Luna was already familiar with.

"You must remember to blend in, and this will help, at least if you hold it for appearances," Hastur recommended, bending down and raising his voice to Luna's ear so as to be heard over the entertainment.

With that, he departed in a trail of fine fabric, off to some mysterious duty privy only to the dragon vizier of the Moon Goddess. Luna stared into her drink, taking a sip with some reluctance.

"Let's just get really drunk," Luna's inner voice encouraged.

Luna decided to ignore herself. It was true she didn't want her new castle to be a den of depravity. It was really annoying that this had come to be the plan for avoiding it. How was she even supposed to begin? There were ponies dancing, and that was expected, but it was a lot of uncoordinated, common dancing and it involved a lot of touching. She could see some male nibbling at a girl's ear off in the crowd, and the girl was giggling about it. Those two ponies didn't even know who the other was!

"Tell on them!" Luna's inner voice suggested, impishly.

"That's ridiculous," Luna argued. "It's not tattling if we're the pony in charge."

"Who cares? Drink!" Luna's inner voice tried again.

"Why?" Luna demanded. "Then what?"

"To hell with everything!" Luna's inner voice persisted. "Drink for spite. Drink for fun. The world be damned, let's just forget about it and drink."

Luna took another sip. She huffed. Even Luna wasn't being very helpful to Luna right now. These were exactly the kind of evil thoughts that had a pony forgetting her morals in the first place.

"Howdy," came a dulled voice, slightly raised and also warm by her ear.

Luna jumped, hurling her chalice skyward, but catching it in mid air with magic and returning the contents to the container before they splashed all over the crowd.

"Do not do that!" Luna shouted over the thumping bass at the stallion now in front of her.

"Sorry," the stallion said.

He was a well built male. Tall and given the burned, wind-beaten look of a hard worker in an outdoor trade. His face was spotted with small patches of white, which gave the appearance of freckles. His fur was a bright red, his hair a carrot-top shade of orange, and on his flank was the image of a large, sliced apple.

Both ponies stood in deference to one another, waiting for the other to make the first move. This rustic young male had been so presumptuous in the first place, it seemed to Luna like he should be the one to expound on the interaction. She held out, patiently. He did nothing. Luna continued waiting. The male took a swig from his chalice, which he was holding in his hoof in the way that ponies sometimes did – it was difficult to describe, but the exact physics behind it involved some quantum mechanics and, of course, magic.

"What?" Luna demanded, finally giving up.

"Nice party," the stallion mentioned.

Luna regarded the statement. He hadn't implied it was her nice party. He'd just said it was nice, as if she'd asked or something. It was not a very open-ended subject. Luna didn't have any further thoughts on it, so she nodded.

"Is – is that all you wanted to tell me?" Luna asked, tiptoeing sideways in a slow-motion escape.

"Nope," the stallion replied, non-specifically.

Luna wondered how much this pony had been drinking. He didn't seem very impaired, although he seemed to speak like he'd just woken up from anesthesia. Luna was having the creeping suspicion she might be talking to someone with special needs.

"I guess I just like to take it slow with the ladies," the stallion expelled, again as if vaguely to no one in particular.

Was that a joke? Was he joking? Luna had no idea. She tried to retrace all the steps up until now. She didn't see a joke in plain sight, but she was sure she was the butt of some kind of joke. There must have been other ponies nearby sniggering at what a fool their friend was making of the hidden moon princess.

"Too fast?" the stallion asked, apologetically.

Now Luna laughed. It had to be a joke. A very well executed one because the stallion was a very good actor, and he... he wasn't laughing along. In fact, he was frowning now. It seemed she'd offended him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Luna said, clearing her throat. "I, um. I thought of something funny."

She hoped he wouldn't ask what it was. Luna couldn't think of any jokes, except a few puns and some dated topical commentary about the now defunct Solar Church. Luna really missed Alfred right now. She should have just stayed at the castle with her one friend and her zero social life.

"Oh," the stallion replied, relaxing.

They relapsed into silence.

"Oh please, please let something explode," Luna begged fate.

"We could arrange an explosion," Luna's inner voice reminded.

"Yes, but what?" Luna asked, casting her eyes about for something expendable and safely away from the crowd.

"How about this stallion?" her inner voice suggested. "If he exploded we'd have a really great excuse to get far away from him. It wouldn't be safe standing next to an exploding pony."

Luna rolled her eyes.

"So..." the stallion drawled, inviting Luna to stir up more social interaction.

"Um," Luna mumbled, her mind racing. How was it even possible that a pony standing around saying nothing could be so oppressively horrible. He could reveal he was a soft-headed assassin with a knife and it would at least make things less stressful. "Did you come here with someone?" Luna asked, hoping he had a chaperone or a special guide who would come along any moment.

"Yup," the stallion replied.

The silence came at them again, like a starving great white shark circling blood-filled waters. Luna's pulse froze in crystallized dread. She'd never escape. She'd be trapped in this awkward conversation for the rest of eternity.

"Aaaaaugh!" Luna's inner voice screamed in sympathetic agony. "Just blow him up! It's the only way!"

"Are – are you lost?" Luna hoped, still pursuing the assumption the stallion needed supervision and could be replaced to his proper location far, far away from Luna.

"Nope," the stallion replied.

"Of course he's not lost! He's the very spirit of depraved parties, come to lick your gleaming eyes from the sockets," Luna's inner voice spoke with portent. "Pure malevolence guides his every step and designs for him the most wicked and torturous methods of social interaction."

In light of that superstition, Luna tried to think of more torturous forms of interpersonal exchange. There were some, but none that could occur as quickly.

"Well, yes," Luna stammered, backing into the crowd. "Let's hope that you find your friends, and that maybe you can -"

"Excuse me, miss," growled another pony from behind Luna's shoulder.

It was a white pegusus. The male in front of her was large, but this one behind was enormous and built like a bull. His wings were tiny, his hair blond and short, cut to a military style. It sounded like he was resisting the urge to hurtle the words from his throat at top velocity and he was only just barely winning out.

"Is this pony making you uncomfortable?" the slab of newcomer choked.

"I'm not sure that I would -" Luna began, but the pegasus stepped in front of her.

"It makes me sick. To think that some pony is taking advantage of a poor young mare. Are you taking advantage of this mare?" he demanded the red stallion.

"Nope," the red stallion disagreed, scowling.

A look of consternation splattered on the pegasus's face.

"Oh," he said, his eyes splitting ever slightly in opposite directions. "I am so sorry."

Luna was now seriously wondering whether or not Ponyville had an inbreeding problem, and then the worst feeling in the world washed over her when she realized she'd been defeated by Ponyville ponies. Luna wasn't merely not cut out to contend with her sister, she was no match for... well, whatever this was occurring right here in front of her. It was such a humiliating thing to be forced to terms with.

"I am so sorry," the white pegusus said again, turning to Luna. "I did not mean to interrupt your conversation."

"It's fine," Luna clipped, feeling miffed for reasons the pegusus would not be able to understand.

"It's just. I thought," began the pegasus, in his deliberate, growling, almost painful sounding rapport, "I imagined my cousin, who is a young lady, being bullied by some stallion. And she is so polite. She would not stand up for herself."

Luna nodded, sullenly. Yes, she got it. He was a gallant knight protecting her honor.

"And she is so smart," the pegusus continued. "I am always worried she will go on dates and fall in love with someone who is not good enough."

Luna put both hooves to her forehead. She didn't care! And yes, she supposed that was sweet in its own special way but -

"Because some colts do not know their manners. But it is a working strategy. I do not know why, but mares must sometimes be very patient and understanding," the pegusus went on.

"Yes, that's good," Luna agreed, desperately.

"So that is why you don't need to be polite to a stallion you do not like. I support you," the pegasus declared.

Luna waited, and after several moments there remained nothing but the music. No words were being produced by any of the three ponies involved in this fiasco. The pegasus seemed done with his expulsion, and he was staring into space in thick concentration. Luna looked down into her chalice, which was still mostly full.

"Do it," her inner voice commanded.

Luna downed the contents in one go.

"I will go now," announced the pegasus, as he did just that.

The red stallion moved in to fill the empty space left by the ox of a pegasus, and Luna levitated her chalice, rather vengefully, into the unready chest of a nearby Carcosan door guard.

"Another," Luna commanded.

The dragon, clutching the chalice in surprise, jumped into a lazy glide to the decorated refreshments table. It landed hard, scattering several ponies in fear for their lives like rabbits from a lazy, overfed hawk. The beast refilled the chalice then returned, handing it over to Luna without a word. This drew a fair amount of attention.

"I didn't know you could ask them to get you refills," the stallion commented, surprised.

Luna just widened her eyes, as if to say, 'of course you didn't', and then gulped down another mouthful of the nectar. Her head was already starting to spin, and she grinned a little because she realized she'd done kind of a trick. No other pony could get drinks from the dragons like that.

Then they went back to the silence, excluding the noisy chatter and the loud music.

"What?" Luna begged.

"I was just thinkin'," the stallion said in his slow drawl, "Maybe ya'll would like to dance?"

Luna leaned towards the dance floor, inspecting it disdainfully. There were other ponies more intoxicated than Luna out there stumbling into each other and laughing. Luna slipped and caught herself. Her balance was already on the way out.

"No?" she decided, sarcastically.

"Gosh, that was mean," Luna thought, distantly.

"Not as mean as blowing him up! This is a polite compromise," Luna's inner voice arbitrated.

"That's alright," the stallion assured her. "I'm not much of a dancer myself."

Luna cocked her head and swayed. Why the heck would a pony ask a girl to dance if he didn't want to dance? That was stupid. Who needs a guy who will do things he hates just to make a girl happy? He'll wind up angry, eventually, mad that her fun and his don't match and wondering why she doesn't "care" more about his needs.

"I guess I'm really more into..." he paused to think it over. "Mostly farming, I guess. And hard work, but I don't mind of a bit of cake every now and then."

Luna pursed her lips and shook her head. It made her hair bounce about her face.

"What are you into?" the stallion asked.

"I like raising the moon and ruling Equestria," Luna said.

The stallion broke a smile, but Luna didn't, and then his mouth dropped open. He looked about to tell a joke or to dismiss what she'd said, but thought better.

"I'm the moon princess," Luna blurted.

"Why are we the moon princess? Celestia would just be princess," her inner voice complained, but Luna buried it. She didn't care right now.

The stallion's eyes widened. He was clearly still hoping it would be a joke, but several shades of realization passed over his face.

"Oh, well I -" he sputtered. "Well I – Guess I – I mean just I thought you looked awful pretty, but I just – um, well, I – uh, yup."

He sagged in total defeat. Satisfied in her victory, Luna was struck by the blow of guilt. Luna knew what it was like being put in one's place, and she'd just put this stallion so far below her he'd need a shovel and an oxygen tank. He'd come to her hoping his anonymity would put him on equal footing with everyone, and she'd bashed his pride upside the face.

"I, uh," Luna said, softening before a wave of awful feelings. "I'm sorry. I'm not really the princess."

"Oh," the stallion replied, smiling weakly as if he were trying to go along with a joke. "T'ain't no problem. I understand a pretty lady like you not wantin' to be bothered." He frowned. "Guess that other pony was right."

The stallion nodded goodbye, then left the castle sulkily. Luna knew how he felt. He was going to be by himself to lick his wounds. He'd spend time wondering if he was unattractive or deficient somehow. He'd want to know how he'd screwed up, and he'd blame himself because he didn't know Luna at all and couldn't blame her. But he'd only approached Luna because he'd thought she was pretty, and she'd treated him like he was developmentally challenged.

Oh, no! He'd thought she was pretty! All he'd had on his mind was a kind thought like that and a little hope in his heart that maybe she was as nice as she looked, and Luna had turned out pointlessly cruel. Then she'd played it off as if she were telling a hurtful lie, just to save her own image. What kind of pony did that to another? And that pegasus was just looking out for her too, but she'd though so little of it. Luna had a totally level playing field, and she'd been a monster, even against positive expectations.

Luna staggered off, a little too drunk now for grace. Eventually, she found Hastur discussing something with another dragon. She went towards him, then just kept on going until her head was buried in his cloak beneath his arm. Luna sobbed. She was a monster, but at least her best friend was a monster too.