The night was black. Thick and dark like spilled ink, with the same pungent scent. It made Tempest’s nose crinkle and her eyes water as she unflinchingly stood guard outside of Lord Discord’s quarters.

It wasn’t like he needed protection, but ever since the death of the Royal Sisters, he’d been different. Wrong. His wife, Princess Celestia… he hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

Tempest hadn’t either.

The night made her sick. It only reminded her of what she’d lost. Her mare, her Luna. The night used to be beautiful when it was Luna who raised the moon and set the stars in their places.

Tempest had buried herself in her work in an effort to deny it, but on quiet nights like these, she couldn’t help but think. No pony had been aware of her relationship with Luna. They had tread carefully. In the hollow silence of the night, Tempest could only wonder.

Shattered plans. They could’ve had a family. They could’ve been happy.

But no. It would never be. Tempest would never have a family again.

The stages of grief. Tempest had been in denial for the longest time. She’d gotten hooked on it, and it didn’t want to let her go. The lure of staving off acceptance was too tempting. But it had to be reached eventually.

There was a clatter from inside Discord’s chambers. Tempest gripped her spear tight.

Silence.

She exhaled. She didn’t want to bother the Lord unless she had to. She had noticed he hadn’t been sleeping. He’d been spending so much time caring for his children that he didn’t have time to grieve during the day, so it was at night when he allowed himself to fall to pieces. Tempest had heard him throwing things, shouting, sobbing… She’d never imagined the Lord of Chaos in such a place.

But in all honesty, she never imagined herself in such a place.

She wasn’t supposed to get attached, but she did.

It was stupid.

Careless.

The sound of shattering glass echoed from Discord’s chambers. He hollered something unintelligible before falling silent yet again.

Tempest’s thoughts were just beginning to drift off again when the doors to Discord’s chambers slammed open, making her jump.

“Guard. Order a new mirror for me. I don’t feel like fixing it myself.”

Discord’s voice was hoarse and raw, but icy cold. Tempest said nothing, simply nodding to another guard across the corridor. He nodded in return and rushed off.

“I’ll have it for you soon, my Lord.”

The chamber doors crashed closed. Tempest sighed.

Within a few seemingly unending minutes of silence, the guard returned with a small mirror floating in his magic. Tempest graciously took it as her fellow guard returned to his post.

Squeezing her eyes shut tight, she steeled herself to knock.

Clack. Clack.

Her hoof hit the weathered wooden door with two gentle taps.

“Enter.”

Tempest did.

The room was dark, darker than the shadowy corridor. The only light flickered in the form of a dim, spluttering candle. Yellow and lonely, it just barely illuminated the hunched figure of Lord Discord.

“Come closer.”

Tempest hadn’t even noticed that she’d stopped dead in the doorway. Her legs didn’t want to move, but she forced them to carry her towards Discord.

Standing beside him, Tempest presented the mirror. It was a delicate thing, the frame carved flawlessly from copper. It wound about the glass like vines. Choking. Smothering. Like the night that Tempest had once loved.

“How did you do it, Tempest Shadow?”

Tempest was taken aback. She had never heard Lord Discord refer to her that way. She had almost been sure he didn’t know her name.

“Excuse me, my Lord. I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Stop it with the ‘my Lord’s’. Talk to me normally.”

The order was surprising. Discord had always seemed to enjoy when any of the ponies of Equestria used his royal title. It must have been amusing.

“A-alright. Then, I don’t know what you mean.”

Discord traced circles on his desk with a claw.

“I know about what was between you and Luna. How did you do it? How did you move on?”

Tempest wanted to ask so many things. She didn’t understand how he could’ve known, but she supposed it wasn’t out of the question for the Lord of Chaos.

“I… I haven’t. I never will.”

“I’ve never seen you cry.”

Tempest had cried. She’d cried alone in her quarters late at night when she thought of all the ‘what if’s’. A quiet, lonely cry.

“No. I can’t.”

“My children like you. Harmony especially. And Athena. They all like you very much, really.”

Tempest tilted her head to the side.

“R-really?”

“Yes. ‘Tia… ‘Tia said… she said…”

He couldn’t finish. The words fizzled on his tongue like a dying flame. All it took was a weak breath to extinguish them.

“I hate the night,” Tempest murmured, not knowing what else to say.

“I hate the day. I hate the sun and I hate the light,” Discord choked.

It was then that he turned around finally to face Tempest. She did not see a powerful Lord. One who could snap his fingers and set the world ablaze. One who would smile with all his teeth and snap his talons and lash his tail like a menace. She only saw tired, dark eyes, worn and frayed like the the end of a thread.

She wanted to ask if he was alright, but she already knew the answer.

“I wanted a family,” Tempest whispered, staring into the damp eyes of her Lord.

“I have one. But it’s broken now.”

“Do you think you can fix it?”

As soon as the words left Tempest’s mouth, she regretted them. Discord’s eyes were no longer sad and tired, they were suddenly angry. Blazing. Tempest was sure he was going to yell, but he didn’t. He only turned away.

Discord sighed.

“No. Not on my own.”

Tempest watched the candle. Wax ran down the sides, dripping sticky slow. It was almost burnt down to the end. A sea of burning wax enveloped the desk underneath it as the candle shortened more and more.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it.”

“I know. But I’m still sorry.”

Quiet. Discord breathed.

“I am too.”

Tempest felt this was her cue to leave. She held the mirror up higher.

“Should I leave this here?”

Discord turned for a brief moment, just long enough that he could catch a glimpse of himself bathed in the watery candlelight.

“No. I don’t want to see myself anymore.”

Tempest left without another word, quietly shutting the chamber doors behind her.

She stared deep into her own eyes through the mirror, and was not surprised to see the same desperate exhaustion that she’d found in Discord. It made her stomach churn.

Somewhere in the corridor, a solitary cricket chirped.

Tempest needed the sun to rise.

At sunrise, there was a short moment where she could pretend.

She wanted to play pretend.

Denial was just far too sweet to turn away from.

——