The Tale of Lord Barleycorn

by Blue Cultist


46. King in Rags, thou must play.

The Tale of Lord Barleycorn
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Chapter 46: King in Rags, thou must play.
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Celestia’s sun hung red like a ripened apple as it slowly descended to its resting place beneath the western horizon. Yet despite the late hour the town of Hollow Shades was alive and active, its residents long since acclimated to staying up past their usual bedtimes to see what would be appearing in the streets this night.

All day, excitement had been building as ponies whispered about what they might see tonight. More of those laughing foal-lights? A spirit from any of the old stories? A few even whispered of some dark spirit that some mare had mentioned in the bar earlier that morning. More pragmatic minds simply wished for a second helping of that wonderful soup that Lord Barleycorn had made.

Regardless, until the King of Autumn arrived the vendor tables remained open, and coin was eagerly changing hooves. Those lumberponies who had started the trend of grilling food for a few bits now found they had competition as more and more were improvising their own grills out of whatever was available. Several aging woodstoves had been pulled out of storage while scrap metal containers of all sorts were now grilling small meals for families who were picnicking under the setting sun.

The foals of Hollow Shades had been stationed at both ends of the boardwalk for hours now. Each group was determined to be the first to spot the scarecrow as he approached, though neither could be sure from which direction he’d be traveling. Many of the older ponies were doing their best to not look so foalish, but whenever the leaves rustled or the wind picked up their heads snapped to the road.

However, none were more aglow with excitement than Princess Twilight Sparkle.

Ever since she had returned from the Standing Stones, Twilight had been in what her friends might call one of her ‘manic episodes.’ The ponies around her were unfamiliar with the Twilight’s over-enthusiastic tendencies, and were becoming increasingly concerned as the princess began to speak in long-winded, self-directed diatribes as she wrote in the dirt with a stick. If she wasn’t partially secluded behind the pawn shop she would have been causing quite the scene.

For nearly two hours Twilight had poured over every minute detail of the ritual she had performed. Each motion, each gesture, every dance step and ceremonial act. She would have gone over the costume, if Rarity hadn’t taken it. But most of all she returned to the Black Goat and its ominous yet strange actions. If anything, Twilight felt like she had come to too many conclusions about its reaction to her.

A sudden gust of wind whipped around her, threatening to scatter her etchings in the dirt. In fear she may lose her train of thought, Twilight reflexibly turned her head to call for Spike. Her voice caught in her throat as her mind snapped back to reality. She was nowhere near Ponyville, and her assistant was unable to bring her anything.

The moment was enough to make the alicorn look down at her notes in the dirt with a grimace. She felt like a fool, drawing the dirt like some bored foal instead of taking the effort to go back to her room to do proper note taking. True, there were questions to unravel but going at this scattershot was unhelpful.

Narrowing her list to the important questions, she found she still had quite a gap in her knowledge. True, the ritual supposedly only had power if she believed in it. If its steps had meaning to her--but could she improve it further? Was she fully off the hook for insulting the Black Goat? Why did it touch her nose like that?

Twilight shook her head. This town had nearly as much old world mystery as the Castle of the Two Sisters. It was like a book that she just couldn’t put down.

Daylight waned, and so it was that Twilight abandoned her contemplation behind the pawn shop and joined the amassing ponies on the boardwalk. It was from one end of the street that Twilight began to peer out across the countryside. After some time she trotted to the other side, feeling that perhaps Lord Barleycorn may be coming from that direction. Then back she went to the other end, until she began to pace back and forth across the full length of the boardwalk. The same townsponies that had listened to her ramble now watched with renewed concern as a crown princess of Equestria ping-ponged from one end of their busy street and back again.

Yet despite all of Twilight’s excitable patrolling, she was not the first to spy Lord Barleycorn’s approach.

From the opposite end of the boardwalk came a cheer from the foals. Given the relatively short distance from one end of Hollow Shades’ decayed yet still beating heart, such a raucous cheer was hard to ignore.

Residents and visitors alike were already flocking toward that end of the road, eager to see what the Lord of Scarecrows might be bringing with him on this unusually warm autumn night.

Unnatural colors in the air above her alerted Twilight to pegasi who had taken to the air and were landing on the moldy roofs to get a better view. Seeing merit in the idea, Twilight reappeared on a vacant rooftop with a small pop of lavender light.

Now standing atop the local barbershop, Twilight could see out over the crowd with ease. Before her were the empty fields and the near-endless line of trees. The humble dirt road stretched before her, and trundling along this neglected, weed-dotted path was Lord Barleycorn in a weathered, beaten cart.

Despite the distance, she could hear him. Everypony could.

Intermixed with the chirps of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl was that familiar violin. It was soft at first, the notes lost among the sounds of nature but as the cart neared it became a song she had heard him play before. An energetic song about the creation of whiskey, though told in a way that suggested the barley was a pony being abused by farmers.

Somewhat disturbingly, Twilight found some of the foals were able to sing along. It wasn’t a tune she felt they should be repeating.

As the cart drew closer Twilight could see it was being drawn by a rag pony. From her choice in old tattered clothing and the brown tail that hung plain and straight, Twilight reasoned this was the same pony that she had encountered several days ago.

As for her opinion on the song, Twilight wasn’t sure.

Having grown up in Canterlot, Twilight was more familiar with the classical music favored by her teachers. It really wasn’t until coming to Ponyville that she got to experience a wider variety of musical genres.

It was a catchy song, but the lyrics left her a little squeamish. While comically delivered, the acts done to the supposed ‘John Barleycorn’ were arguably cruel. Exactly why a spirit of autumn would choose such a song to sing was something Twilight truly could not wrap her head around.

In the end, she simply shrugged. The foals loved it, and any attempt to moralize on the subject would make her look like an old nag.

The rag pony pulling the cart flinched from another cheer from the foals, but with some gentle nudging from Lord Barleycorn she resumed her trek toward town. The reluctance shown was what Twilight was familiar with, but she couldn’t help but be reminded of Fluttershy.

The thought of the timid, yellow pegasus brought to mind the lack of familiar company, and Twilight turned her head to scan for some sign of her friends among the assembled ponies beneath her.

Rainbow was the easiest to spot due to her loud and vibrant colors. Twilight hadn’t seen much of her over the course of the day, but Rainbow had shown little interest in ‘holding a seance in the woods’ as she called it. But she was here now, lounging in a fluffy white cloud that she seemed quite content to lay upon. Since the pegasus wasn’t sinking through it, nor was it drifting on the wind, Twilight reasoned her friend must have brought it from Ponyville to use as her own personal lounge chair.

Rarity and Applejack were nowhere to be seen, but Pinkie was standing near the foals at the end of the boardwalk. She was looking just as excited as they were, and was avidly waving at the scarecrow as if her pink self was somehow invisible.

Fluttershy however was sitting on the patio outside Tablecloth’s happily eating a sandwich.

A fish sandwich.

Twilight chose to not dwell on that for too long.

What she could choose to dwell on was the reassurance that her friends were nearby, if she needed them. The past few hours had been a hectic mess, and despite her lack of company, the knowledge that they could be called upon was a great comfort to Twilight.

These moments of sentimentality allowed the ancient farm cart to venture closer to town. The music was loud and clear now, so loud in fact that now ponies were leaving the businesses to peek out at the approaching scarecrow.

Although it wasn’t very comfortable, Twilight sat on the roof and watched Lord Barleycorn roll the final few yards into town. The foals and Pinkie never stopped cheering, each of them vying for his attention. 

The pony-shaped thing under those rags recoiled as several of the foals ventured a little too close, stalling the cart and forcing Lord Barleycorn to go down to one knee to avoid losing his balance. To his credit, Twilight didn’t think he lost a note of the song.

The foals responsible slank back, ears pinned to the sides of their heads in shame as they tried to give the rag pony space it clearly needed. Even Pinkie lowered her voice.

The song came to an end with a flourish of the bow in Lord Barleycorn’s hand. The thunder of applauding hooves rose up from the street, despite the sight of the rag pony backing up against the cart. Twilight lightly clapped her hooves together, just to be polite.

The scarecrow tapped the front of the old farm cart with his boot, a clear signal to the rag pony as it began unstrapping itself from the old harness. In the cart Lord Barleycorn stood as tall and as regally as one can while dressed in tattered clothes and a dusty straw hat. The ponies had begun to form a crowd around the cart as they all awaited what Lord Barleycorn was about to say or do. With a quick clearing of his throat, he spoke;

“Once again, I arrive and see so many cheerful faces.” Lord Barleycorn chuckled before he hopped over the side of the cart, landing with enough force that a little cloud of dust rose up from the dry, dirt road, “I feel like tonight is a special night.”

A moment was spared to allow the rag pony to slip free of the harness and hide behind him as ponies continued to crowd around the pair.

From her perch, Twilight felt like she was watching this all take place through a telescope. No longer feeling a need to sit on this uncomfortable roof, Twilight unfurled her wings and went into a controlled glide down to the ground. It was when she finally had all four hooves on the ground that she noticed a familiar face coming out of the local bar.

Of all ponies, Twilight had not expected to find Granny Smith in Hollow Shades. The Harvest Festival in Ponville was still going on, and without Applejack the old mare should have been utterly swamped with things to do. Yet, instead, here she was, chatting casually with a mare Twilight wasn’t acquainted with.

Behind them was Applejack, who looked like she was having trouble keeping her hooves underneath her. Her head hung low, and she seemed to regard everything with a thousand yard stare that Twilight had only ever worn after several nights without sleep.

Tempting as Lord Barleycorn might be, Twilight held her friend closer to her heart.

Breaking off from her intended course, Twilight quietly walked beside Applejack as the farmer followed her grandmother and the stranger with an uncoordinated gait.

“Applejack, are you alright?” Twilight asked quietly as not to draw any more attention than necessary. 

“M’fine...” Applejack croaked, “Jus’... was a bit thirsty.”

A frown formed on Twilight’s muzzle as she quickly grasped exactly what Applejack meant. She may have been sheltered in her foalhood, but she was quite aware of what her friend had been doing in the bar.

Ahead of them, Granny and this other mare continued to talk as they trotted, unknowing leaving Applejack behind. Twilight leaned against Applejack, trying to give the earth pony some support as they tried to keep up. When this didn’t seem to be helping much, Twilight guided Applejack toward a thin alley between two shops and helped her to sit on a long wooden crate, one that she’d seen some of the locals use as a bench.

“Are you going to be okay?” Twilight knew Applejack would be fine, but she knew it was her place as a friend to ask anyway.

Applejack nodded drowsily, her head feeling too heavy to keep above her withers. She shifted until she was able to lay down on the crate. It was hard and uncomfortable but Applejack felt like she didn’t have the mental energy to consider rolling onto the ground.

“M’fine,” She repeated, “Ah jus’ need’a lay here for a spell. Go’n see the… guy...”

Twilight let out a huff. She didn’t approve of one of her friends drinking to this extent, nor did she approve of just leaving her in an alleyway to sleep it off--but what other option did she have? As she saw it, using magic to just ‘get over’ drunkenness set a terrible precedent. A pony who over indulged in such behavior should accept the consequences the next morning.

Of course, Applejack didn’t know of Twilight’s displeasement since she had successfully fallen asleep on what had to be the most uncomfortable spot in Hollow Shades.

With a roll of her eyes, Twilight turned and headed back to the boardwalk. She didn’t envy the headache that Applejack was going to have later.

Although escorting Applejack to Hollow Shades’ finest in alleyway accommodations hadn’t taken long, it also hadn’t taken very long for Lord Barleycorn to leave the cart sitting by the side of the road. Both he and his raggedy companion were moving among the crowd, which politely moved aside to let them walk down the street.

If she wished to speak with Lord Barleycorn, Twilight would now need to maneuver her way through the crowd. This had been something she had aimed to avoid, and it seemed despite her best intentions things had put her outside of the massing throng of ponies. However, before she could make any progress Twilight noticed Granny Smith moving toward the scarecrow with an odd look of conviction in her eye.

When Granny had come close enough, she shakily crossed her legs for a moment, then reached into her patched and faded saddlebags and produced a small, covered cake dish. It was a simple, sturdy thing, much like the mare who held it. Whatever shine its metal surface once had was tarnished and dull, and a rainbow of dings and blemishes told the story of a long and colorful life in the Apple family kitchen.

“Ah’ve musta made hundred’s of these, but never actually got ta actually hoof one over to a spirit be’fer...” Granny chuckled to herself as she lifted the iron-gray lid.

Inside was a small but very moist square of cornbread.

Twilight could see it if she stood on the tips of her hooves. There was a part of her that was impressed that the Apple matriarch had made something that didn’t have a big slice of apple on it, in it, or beside it.

“Oh, you made a night cake?” Harvest Moon remarked, “I haven’t seen one of those since I was a child.”

Granny let out an amused snort, “We made ‘em all the time fer Nightmare Night when I was a filly. ‘Course that was be’fer sugar was so easy to git yer hooves on.”

The mention of night cakes caught Twilight by surprise. Since coming to Hollow Shades, the alicorn had steeped herself in old lore and myth. Earth pony traditions and customs ranging from common to obscure had been learned in hopes they might prove useful.

These sweet cakes were originally gifts to spirits for a bountiful harvest in the days before Equestrian unification, but after Luna’s banishment they took on a different meaning. They were left out to appease the Mare in the Moon, who many ponies felt was glaring down at them from on nights when the moon was full. Eventually, these homemade cakes were replaced with modern sweets, and the fear of Nightmare Moon was watered down as generations passed.

Some of her books had suggested that these offerings had their origin in older superstitions, where an earth pony might leave food out for any local spirits in hopes of having crops blessed or some minor favor.

This uncertainty was why Twilight had left such a thing out of her ritual, but it seemed Granny Smith might have known something that wasn’t in her books.

Twilight watched Lord Barleycorn give Granny a thankful tip of his hat before he bent down to pick up the small metal serving tray. After dusting his dangling sleeve on his hip, he lifted the slice of cake to the mouth-hole in his mask.

“Mmm, delightful.” Lord Barleycorn said cheerfully, “Very moist, all too often I find cornbread to be a tad dry but you really outdid yourself.”

Granny let out a pleased chuckle, “Ah’d hope so, Ah’ve been makin’ those fer near’ seventy years.”

“And you don’t look a day past twenty-five,” Lord Barleycorn laughed, hastily polishing off the small cake before rubbing the sleeve on his thigh, “Now, my dear lady, what can I help you with? Ponies surely wouldn’t part with such a delicacy for nothing.”

Twilight glanced around at the ponies surrounding the scarecrow and Granny. All of them were paying very close attention, and she could see some of the local mares looking rather contemplative. She couldn’t be sure, but she sensed that Lord Barleycorn was going to be inundated with cornbread in the near future.

“Jus’ payin’ mah respects, an’ hopin’ to see sumthin Ah’ll never ferget.” Granny said with a smile.

“And that you’ll get for sure.” Said the scarecrow, tipping his hat to Granny as he passed by.

Twilight thought she saw a moment of confusion… or perhaps disappointment on the old Apple’s face as Lord Barleycorn and the rag pony left her to continue on through the town. Had Lord Barleycorn not followed some ritualistic etiquette that Granny was familiar with? Or was it that meeting the Lord of Autumn didn’t live up to her expectations?

Twilight shook her head, these were questions for later. She needed to get an audience with the scarecrow before he got too involved in entertaining the crowd.

Again, the ponies around them were making way for the gangly apparition and not extending Twilight the same courtesy. The scarecrow was casually walking toward the stage, and Twilight found herself falling further and further behind. She briefly contemplated using the ‘Canterlot voice’ to tell ponies to stand aside but felt it would spoil the celebratory mood.

Resigning herself to a momentary delay in conversing with the bipedal spirit, Twilight chose to accept her position in the crowd… for now.

While Lord Barleycorn took the center stage, his rag pony companion quietly slank behind the curtains and out of sight. He held his worn violin and bow in one hand, with no apparent intention to play for the assembled ponies. Still, the anticipation was growing, and the tide of ponies were still coming in. Twilight soon found herself not at the back, but in the middle of a large audience. It seemed like the entire town’s population had tripled just for this night.

When Lord Barleycorn spoke next, it was loud and deliberate. Every pony cast their attention to the stage.

This garden universe vibrates complete.
Some, we get a sound so sweet.
Vibrations reach on up to become light.
And then through gamma, out of sight.

Poetry had been the last thing Twilight had expected to hear, even less on a subject like the  visible spectrum.

Twilight shrugged and chalked it up to yet another unexpected surprise. If Pinkie could get away with it, then why not a whimsical magic scarecrow?

Between the eyes and ears there lie.
The sounds of color and the light of a sigh.

Lord Barleycorn stepped closer to the edge of the stage, slowly turning his head to gaze at each member of the audience.

And to hear the sun, what a thing to believe.
But it's all around if we could but perceive.
To know ultra-violet, infra-red, and x-rays.
Beauty to find in so many ways.
Two notes of the chord, that's our full scope.
But to reach the chord is our life's hope.
And to name the chord is important to some.
So they give it a word, and the word is…

The final word hung unspoken on Lord Barleycorn's lips. The ears of every assembled pony perked to catch this mysterious word as if this was some secret of the universe he was about to impart to them.

The horn atop Twilight’s head was incandescent with magic as she attempted to amplify her own hearing. She did this so she might hear every inflection and nuance for fear of missing some hidden meaning. Already a pad of paper and a quill appeared for her to jot down what was said next.

At long last, Lord Barleycorn spoke, “... Oom.”

The quill was making an inkblot as it pressed against the paper, unmoving. Twilight wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t… that. 

There were a few chuckles from around Twilight, but it seemed her sense of puzzlement was shared by most of the other ponies in attendance.

Twilight rolled her eyes, maybe this was one of those things she had to ascribe her own meaning to, like a zen riddle.

“It’s so good to be welcomed by so many familiar faces.” Shouted Lord Barleycorn so everypony could hear, “Magic fills the air, and only one more day separates us from the night where spirits freely walk these streets.”

A buzz of excitement rose up from the ponies around Twilight, but they quickly quieted down as Lord Barleycorn continued to speak.

Twilight chanced another look around her. Perhaps it was just the excitement of the crowd but she could almost feel a strange charge in the air. It wasn’t the sensation of being in the presence of powerful magic; it felt more like the suggestion of magic than anything else. Although she felt this excitement in the air building, she couldn’t see anything unusual.

What she did notice was a familiar-looking face in the crowd.

The town doctor wasn’t that far away from Twilight, standing just a few ponies to her right. If he had noticed her, he clearly wasn’t interested. The way that Cherry Nova was staring at Lord Barleycorn looked like he was trying to get the scarecrow to combust, or at the very least bore a hole through him with his mind.

Twilight was still trying to listen to what Lord Barleycorn was saying, but she could plainly see Dr. Nova’s lips were moving as he was muttering under his breath.

To say that Twilight did found the doctor’s attitude amidst all this celebration unpleasant would be a gross understatement. She knew his reputation, and quietly wondered how he could be so convinced that all of this was a massive fraud.

Sure, Lord Barleycorn never once frightened her like the Black Goat did, but he never tried to; beyond telling a strange story here and there. He struck her more as a friendly entertainer than a gruesome spectre. The rag ponies were odd, and she could maybe fault somepony for thinking it was just a pony in a cheap costume, but with everything she’d seen Twilight would rather not take the chance of offending something in the woods.

She knew for a fact that Pinkie and Fluttershy had been in costume for a day, but maybe that was to give the timid spirit a day off?

While it really shouldn’t be her concern, she feared that if the doctor was planning to disrupt things, she would have to intervene. For the sake of the town’s continued prosperity and the welfare of its citizens, his own good, of course. It wouldn't reflect well on her if she had to tell Princess Celestia that she just allowed somepony to leap headfirst into getting himself haunted for the rest of his life.

“And now; friends, neighbors, and ponies visiting this quiet hamlet I come to more serious matters.” Said Lord Barleycorn, adopting the posture and tone of somepony who had experience with delivering bad news; “It has come to my attention that a young filly has fallen ill, and like many in town her family is not blessed with deep coffers.”

The crowd once more began to murmur as many of the locals could already piece together which family this sick foal belonged to.

Lord Barleycorn continued; “As such, I will be dedicating this entire night to her, in recognition of her brave fight. I will not ask that everypony here must contribute, but if any among you wish to make a monetary donation to the family I will be collecting on their behalf.”

“So that’s this game...” Muttered Dr. Nova, loud enough to make Twilight flick her ear in his direction.

The news that a foal was ill made Twilight want to offer whatever help she could offer to the family, but the doctor’s words caught her by surprise. She fully understood that Cherry Nova thought this was all some elaborate hoax but now was awed by his monomania. Here was the crux of his profession, healing the sick and he was focused on other things.

A deep frown was gouged in the face of the Princess of Friendship as she found herself watching the doctor with worried anticipation.

“I am attempting to keep this family as anonymous as possible, out of respect for them.” Lord Barleycorn said, “Although many of you may have guessed which of your neighbors it is, I ask you; do not speak of it publicly.”

The sound of something heavy being dragged through the dirt was heard, and the crowd collectively turned to see the rag pony, pushing the same large earthen crock that had been used to make the communal stew in front of the stage. The tall pot left a deep trail in the bare earth beneath the mare’s unshod hooves, and after it was pushed to the spot below Lord Barleycorn the spirit-mare hurriedly trotted up to stand beside the Lord of Autumn.

“And to start off this night of charity, another song. A duet, in fact.” Lord Barleycorn’s upbeat demeanor returned as he reached into his shirt and produced a set of papers, a lyrics sheet, “Would any of you wish to participate?”

Twilight expected a surge in the crowd, a mob fighting to be the first up the stage but again she was surprised as the ponies of Hollow Shades didn’t move. Instead, they began to murmur in a fashion that suggested uncertainty.

She herself was not an accomplished singer, but she had managed a few modest songs in her time, yet Twilight knew there had to be ponies here with better voices than her. Even the foals didn’t seem eager to leap up on stage.

“Come now, there has to be one of you willing to come up and sing with me.” Lord Barleycorn pointed out with his bow to somepony Twilight couldn’t make out, “How about you?”

“M-me? Oh n-no thank you, lord. But I’m not sure I can manage it.” The voice belonged to an elderly mare who sounded tired and just a little frightened at the sudden attention, “It’s been many years since I sang.”

Lord Barleycorn gave her a nod and pointed to somepony else, “How about you?”

“Thank you, no please... I… don’t like crowds all that much...” Twilight recognized that voice. He’d called on Fluttershy.

“Very well,” Another pony was singled out, “You look like you could sing with the best of them.”

“W-well I can but to learn the lyrics so fast. I would need some time to find the rhythm and tone… I don’t want to make it a bad performance...” Rarity said, a tad flummoxed at the sudden request.

So, are they all afraid of mucking up Lord Barleycorn’s song or what?” Twilight thought, feeling tempted to volunteer just to set a good example.

But before she could speak up the rag pony tugged on Lord Barleycorn’s pants leg and gestured for him to bring himself lower. She rose up and placed her forelegs on his shoulder so she could whisper in his ear. Twilight strained her ear in an attempt to make out what the rag pony was saying, but all she heard were crickets, the wind in the trees, and the breathing of the ponies around her.

“Well, that’s unexpected.” Was Lord Barleycorn’s reply as he stood back up.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, it seems this meek spirit is willing to perform with me tonight.” The scarecrow said, “Know that this is an exceptional event. Field spirits are furtive creatures at best, and to have one come out of the fields at all takes a great amount of coaxing. Even my long memory fails to remember the last time I saw one willing to sing for a crowd this large.”

From where she stood in the crowd, Twilight could see the doctor roll his eyes.

The lyric sheet passed from scarecrow to field spirit, who only gave the paper a cursory glance before setting it at her lord’s feet. With a polite nod, she signaled Lord Barleycorn to begin at his leisure.

With a breath to steady his shoulders, a slow almost melancholy melody began to pour from the scarecrow’s violin. The only accompaniment was from the gentle tapping of his foot, and the beat and tone of the piece gave Twilight the idea of a slow and sorrowful waltz. To her surprise; it wasn’t the scarecrow that began the song, but the rag pony;

“Cold blows the wind over my true love,
cold blows the drops of rain,
I never had but one true love,
and in Camville he was slain.

I'll do as much for my true love,
as any young mare may,
i'll sit and weep down by his grave,
for twelve month and one day.

But when twelve months were come and gone,
this stallion, he arose.”

She sings very well for being so timid earlier.” Thought Twilight as she sat and listened, yet she continued to wonder about the song, “It does seem appropriate for Nightmare Night. I’m not sure about it being a comfort for the filly’s parents though, I might have chosen something a little more… uplifting.

Lord Barleycorn spoke up, taking the part of the widow’s dead love.

What makes you weep down by my grave,
I can't take my repose.

To which the rag pony began to beg in song;

One kiss, one kiss of your lily-white lips,
one kiss is all I crave.
one kiss, one kiss of your lily-white lips,
and return back to your grave.

Lord Barleycorn gave a saddened shake of his head.

My lips they are as cold as my clay,
my breath is heavy and strong,
if thou was to kiss my lily-white lips,
thy days would not be long.

Oh don't you remember the garden grove,
where we used to walk?
pluck the finest flower of them all,
twill wither to a stalk.

Twilight blinked, she’d expected some fright or a happy ending. The song was not taking the direction she’d expected.

Go fetch me a Nun from the dungeon deep
and water from a stone.
and white milk from a maiden's breast,
that babe ere never known.

Go dig me a grave both long, wide and deep,
as quickly as you may.
I'll lie down in it and take one sleep,
for twelve months and one day.

He’s telling her to go on living, to not live in sorrow.” Twilight smiled, “A little morbid given the circumstances, but it’s not in bad taste like I thought.

Both Lord Barleycorn and the rag-shrouded pony continued, singing in sad but beautiful harmony together;

Cold blows the wind over my true love,
cold blows the drops of rain.
I never had but one true love,
and in Camville he was slain.

I'll do as much for my true love,
as any young mare may.
I'll sit and weep down by his grave,
for twelve month and one day.

A few final notes strummed across the violin and the pair on stage shared a bow to each other. The quiet wafting of this melancholy song into silence was jarringly replaced with applause from the ponies in attendance.

Twilight herself was among the ponies applauding, having found herself enjoying the song. The quality of the duet more than making up for the subject matter.

But movement grabbed her attention. Movement from the doctor.

The determined look in his eye and the scowl on his face had Twilight fearing he was about to do something incredibly unwise. So, she gently and politely followed in his wake as he nudged his way through the crowd.

Dr. Nova was nearly at the foot of the stage, right in front of Lord Barleycorn when he sat and looked up at the scarecrow. “Nice song, but why not give the family some gold?”

Twilight flinched at the audacity of the question. Since becoming a princess Twilight had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting oblivious Canterlot nobles with more tact than that. It could be considered an impressive feat if the consequences of angering the spirits weren’t so terrible to consider.

The ponies around them looked to each other in puzzlement, unsure what the doctor was getting at. Others were edging away from him for fear he might be smited or cursed for such rude behavior.

“I’m… sorry?” Lord Barleycorn said, thankfully sounding more confused than upset.

“Well, I’m sure the ponies here could remind us all of the stories of spirits just spinning gold out of straw or making all kinds of wealth appear out of thin air.” Said Cherry, “So, why not simply do that to help this family in need?”

“The only gold I possess is on the trees.” Lord Barleycorn replied, “Pony problems require pony solutions.”

“Well, alright. You have no gold, but you should know some spirit that does.” Cherry shot back, “The Eastern Bunny, maybe? Or some other forest spook?”

“Doctor...” Came a warning from an elderly pony to his left, Silver Lining if Twilight remembered correctly.

Cherry rolled his eyes, ignoring the increasingly worried looks he was getting, “What, I’m just asking a question. It’s not like ponies here have the money to make this happen. And if he can just call in a favor and drop a gold brick or two in their pockets then what’s the harm?”

This started a few whisperings around Twilight. It was easy for her to understand why you didn’t just ask things like this, but that was because she was in training to rule. If Princess Celestia had somepony just walk into her court and just demand one pony give his money to another she’d be called a tyrant.

Lord Barleycorn placed his hands on his hips, finally starting to sound irritated, “The harm can be greater than you know, if you who I’d have to talk to for that gold-”

The doctor flippantly made a ‘blah blah blah’ gesture with his hoof before having the gall to interrupt the King of Autumn; “Yeah yeah, consequences will be dire. Can you solve any practical problems or can you only sing and dance on stage with a mare wearing what the tailor throws out?”

Somewhere in the crowd Twilight swore she could feel Pinkie Pie glowering at the stallion. It was probably best she didn’t turn her head and look to confirm this feeling.

A hoof found itself on the doctor’s withers, and Cherry glanced to look at the mayor of this village giving him a look usually reserved for foals who had done something supremely naughty.

“I think you’ve said enough, Cherry.” Silver Lining warned, “Don’t-”

“Don’t what? Waste my money on a creature that’s going to take all your bits and run?” Cherry snarled, “No pony shows up on your door and offers to solve all your problems without having some catch. I believe a lot of those old stories you hold so dear come with a lot of those lessons.”

“This isn’t a story,” The aging stallion spat back, “Now apologize or else-”

Cherry belted out a laugh that made Silver take a step back, “He’ll curse me? Oh that’s a laugh. Go ahead then, hex me. Turn me into a tree or a mouse. I’d like to see you try.” 

A wind blew in the trees, sending a few dead leaves rustling to the ground but Lord Barleycorn simply stood there. To Twilight, it was as if the dark sky and the wind seemed more agitated by Cherry’s words than Lord Barleycorn.

“You can’t, can you?” Cherry said with a grin of smug triumph, “That should be proof enough for everypony to see that you’re not a....”

The doctor didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as somepony in the crowd cried out. Above their heads, drifting lazily on the wind were the same otherworldly lights that had been seen only a few nights ago. Those assembled before the crude stage were already reacting with predictable fear and awe as a vast multitude of disembodied lights danced in the midnight air.

Despite her instincts to shrink away from these spirits, Twilight held firm. For all their unpredictability, they were beautiful. The closer she looked at them the more colors she saw in their lights, as if the edges of their luminosity hid rainbows of the most vivid colors.

The more she looked, the more she felt her trepidation fade away.

The same could not be said of Cherry Nova, who seemed to be having a difficult time processing what he was seeing.

Twilight may have been able to keep her composure in front of the spirits, but she couldn't resist a smirk at seeing the doctor being forced to eat his words.

One of these motes of lights swung low, arcing over the crowd and causing the ponies to crouch almost until their bellies touched the dirt. It flew to the stage, momentarily pausing to float before Cherry, almost appearing to be staring at the doctor before zooming to Lord Barleycorn’s side.

“Ponies of the Wood, harken.” it spoke in a soft, lilting, feminine voice, “Away to your homes now, and come not out. Your safety, we desire. Thou art in great danger, for she comes.”

The ponies seemed frozen at first, unsure about this strange warning. This uncertainty was shattered as an unearthly howl skreened over the quiet sounds of this cold night.

The howl of timberwolves were a common enough occurrence in Ponyville that Twilight could tell them apart from the other animals. She knew the sounds of dogs baying in the night and had heard the roar of dragons. None filled her with more dread than this noise.

It was a low sound that seemed to slither around her hooves and come up from the ground itself. Worse was the true sense of mourning in its conveyance, as if the source of this sound had experienced loss and agony that no mortal creature could ever experience even over an entire lifetime.

Without thinking Twilight turned, needing to get away from whatever screaming thing was approaching Hollow Shades. Screaming could be heard from the ponies around her, nearly blind with fear as they pushed their way into the nearest buildings. Yet their screams seemed quiet and innocent compared to that baleful howl.

But as she tried to run she felt her hooves become as lead, each step seeming heavier until Twilight found herself barely able to lift them. Neither her magic nor her wings could lift her off the ground, it was as if she suddenly seemed as if some great force was keeping her from leaving.

The lights swirled around her, and Twilight was effortlessly lifted and returned to the stage, alongside a similarly frightened Dr. Nova. Even Lord Barleycorn and his companion seemed unnerved by what was happening.

“King in Rags, thou must play; for she approaches in all her terrifying glory.” One light spoke.

For once, it seemed Lord Barleycorn was the one caught completely unprepared as he hesitated with his violin, seemingly unable to find a tune. It was only when the lights gave a gentle, slow hum giving him a few bars to go off of that he found a rhythm to play to the empty streets.

Another howl, just as terrible as the first shook the ground, and Twilight's heart thundered in her chest as she felt trapped where she stood. Her eyes scanned for what wicked thing could be coming, and then she saw it.

There on the streets of Hollow Shades, stood a skeleton.

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To be continued…
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