Chapter Eight: ...Does it Cast a Shadow?
Elsewhere, Elsewhen...
He hurt. He hurt so very, very badly, but at least he had accomplished what he wanted to do before his time came at last. He had seen everyone he wanted to see, even if they didn't see him, and had put some things right that he felt responsible for. At the end of the day, what more could he ask of himself?
He knew the answer to that one, at least; he could ask for more time, but he was fairly certain he wouldn't get it. The wounds, physical and emotional, were too deep. For a moment he actually considered ending it right there just to get it over with, be done with all he had done and all he was ever going to do and let everyone and everything else just go hang.
He couldn't do that, though, he just couldn't. It went against everything that made him who he was. Either way, he was going to the next life, but before he went, there was one last task to finish, one last thing to set right for someone he knew very well. He got shakily to his feet, patted the console of his ship fondly, and reached for the controls.
As the ship's engines growled to life, a light marked [RECORDING] lit up on the console.
EverFree Forest: Day 40, Year 27 of Celestia's Reign
“...What.”
That was all the Doctor could think to say, so he said it again. “...What?” As he stared at the shadow-covered unicorn before him, the poor fellow rolling his eyes in fear, the Doctor's mind again could only produce another, “...What!”
Snorting faintly, Celestia stepped forward, alongside the baffled Time Lord. “Aegis... I'm sorry. I'll make certain your family is provided for,” Her tone carried both the authority of a ruler and the sorrow of one who knows that loss is inevitable. “Please let them speak.”
Nodding, Aegis cancelled his shield spell, the shadows wrapping themselves around him like a bodysuit, until all that remained was the black silhouette of a unicorn. A moment later, a voice comprised of many voices, low, sibilant, and utterly indifferent, sounded in the woods. “We know you, Lightbringer. We have watched you from afar. Your light burns us, but this is the way of things. These are our forests, and we still feed.”
Turning its gaze to the Doctor, the shadow pony added, “We know you as well, Lonely God,” as the Time Lord's expression shifted from bafflement to regret tinged with anger, the Vashta Nerada continued, “You are the Oncoming Storm, the One That Changes All. Your name is written in the rocks, in the trees, and on the skin of this world. You are known to us, Last Scion of Gallifrey. “
Regaining his mental footing, the Doctor retorted, “Yes, very well, you know who I am, you know what I am, and you know what the Daleks called me after they suddenly got religion through the bloody Cult of Skaro. What do you want?”
“To warn you.”
“Why? You lot do nothing but eat and eat and eat. I was able to reason with another swarm at the Library, but--”
“Yes. We remember this through those who came before us.”
The Doctor blinked. “...What.”
Sighing loudly, Celestia interrupted, “Don't start that again.” She gave the shadow pony a level glare. “You've eaten two of my most trusted guards and loyal servants. I even considered them friends. You say my light burns you?” She lowered her head, her horn glinting as she started to focus her magic. “You've got one chance to make this an interesting conversation, or you have no idea how bad it's going to burn.”
“You seek to stop the Nightbringers, the Infected, the Empty Ones. We approve of this.”
“Why?” asked Bastion, stepping forward on Celestia's other side, “You thrive in the dark, or so that madpony says. I'd think you'd like it if the sun never rose again.”
“Simple biology and ecology, Captain,” murmured the Doctor, looking thoughtful, “Sure, the Vashta Nerada don't like the daylight, but everything they eat thrives on it. Take away the sun, and crops will fail, the animals eating those crops will die – including ponies, mind you – and then the creatures that eat those animals will starve... and that's if the half of the planet Equestria is on doesn't freeze to death first while the other half fries like an egg.”
“Yes,” intoned the shadow pony, “This is why we will not hinder you, now that we know you. The Empty Ones bring us meat, we thought to appease us, but it is already dead flesh. Some of it is tainted. Many of our swarm have died. This is why we will help you if you can. We feed. We spawn. We survive.”
“Survival instinct, then? Is that all? Because really, I have a hard time believing you.”
“It is forbidden to harm the Maker.”
“The Maker? Who is the Maker?”
The shadow pony fell silent, refusing to answer as it stared at them. After a moment, it replied, “You will know in time. We have one last warning, Lonely God, for you alone...”
“...Do not stare into the eyes that do not see, lest you see yourself within them.” As the sun started to sink into the west, the shadow pony flicked an ear. “We go. We hunt. We feed.” With that, the shadows fled back into the forest, leaving the stripped skeleton of Aegis to clatter to the ground. It was perhaps only a trick of Celestia's imagination that had her thinking that the empty eye sockets were staring at her accusingly.
“What in the seven blue-balled gelded pony hells was that
Celestia closed her eyes and tried to close her ears as her two most trusted friends bickered loudly. Kneeling down next to Aegis' remains, she lightly touched her horn to them, causing them to sink into the ground. We are buried where we fall, in service of the Princess, was the Guard's motto, and she could think of no better honor than taking care of the details herself. Plucking an apple out of their supplies, she bit into it deeply and extracted the seeds with reverent care before planting them in the ground as well. And as we fall, another rises up to replace us. Focusing her magic, she gently encouraged the seeds, until a strong sapling sprouted from the ground, growing to a respectable height before she released the spell. As she did so, she heard the Doctor and Bastion still arguing, and it awoke within her a spark of anger akin to nothing she had felt in a very long time.
“--spoken to in that manner!”
“Really? Then what sort of manner would you like me to speak in, Pig Latin? Perhaps some Judoon? Go bo sho no do ko fo ko...”
“Babbling nonsense from a whelp who wouldn't know sense if it bit him on the bollocks!”
“Whelp! I'll have you know, I am over nine hundred years old, and I do not have to talk to you if I don't wan--”
“ENOUGH!” The sound of an immortal alicorn in full fury boomed through the forest, startling birds out of the trees en masse, knocking every pony in earshot to his or her knees, and making the trees nearest to the source lean away from the sheer concussive force of her voice. Where Celestia stood, now stood a Goddess, coat shining with barely-hidden flames, eyes blazing with the full pitiless heat of the sun, and tri-colored mane licking around her like the corona of an angry star. She advanced on the squabbling pair of ponies, head held high as she looked down her muzzle at them both.
Her voice held an odd echo as she scolded the pair, “We are in the EverFree Forest, on our way to dismantle a cult that right this very moment is preparing to slaughter a dozen of Our subjects. We have lost two of our own number, one of whom I personally just buried – a duty that should have fallen on his commander,” she added, turning her glare on Bastion, who at least had the grace to look abashed, “And you two have the poor grace and temerity to sit there and squabble like foals arguing over who poked who first?” She leaned down, almost nose to nose with the Time Lord, and hissed, “Doctor, you may well be almost a millennium old, but I am at least three times that age, and I have an angry little pony in my head that is shouting for me to show you just how much magic I know. I. WIN. Are We clear on this subject?”
The Time Lord nodded mutely, as Celestia's anger faded to somewhat less preternatural levels, her appearance returning to normal. “Well, then,” she said with a satisfied smile. “Let's be about it, shall we? And yes, you are going to explain yourself on the way.”
“Spoilers,” murmured the Doctor some time later as they continued through the forest, guided by the lights from several unicorn horns. “Spoilers wreck everything. Too much foreknowledge, knowing too much about your own future, is a bad thing.”
Brow furrowed, Celestia replied quietly, “I'm not certain what you mean, Doctor. Surely if you know something bad is going to happen, it's good to prevent it?”
“Are you familiar with chaos theory at all?”
“...I knew Discord fairly well before he went mad. Does that count?”
“Not precisely. Small changes have vast consequences. The humans even had a name for it: The Butterfly Effect. A butterfly flaps its wings in London, and halfway across the world, Japan gets a hurricane out of season.”
Nodding slowly, the princess remarked, “So if you knew exactly why those things were so eager to help you before you find out for yourself...”
“It would drastically change the future. Not could, would.” Looking around him, the Doctor continued, “You think Discord doing this to a whole forest was bad, think about what could happen with a time paradox walking the hills and valleys of Equestria. At best, things would be very confusing and there'd be a lot of screaming and running about and probably someone would get killed. At worst, the paradox would naturally try to resolve itself, not be able to, and wind up accelerating the heat-death of the universe by a factor of thirty-seven hojillion. You know magic, Celestia, and I am not contesting that point, but I know time travel. You have to be careful with both, but only one of them can make certain your entire world never existed.” With that last comment, he lapsed in a sullen silence.
“What did they mean, 'Lonely God' and 'Last Scion,' Doctor?” Bastion moved closer, his interest piqued.
Taking a deep breath and shooting the guard captain a look that spoke volumes, the Time Lord replied, “I am – was – originally from a planet called Gallifrey. It was beautiful, with the silver trees reflecting the orange sky, and fields of red grass as far as the eye could see. Inside the Citadel, towers that almost touched the sky rose gracefully. We were powerful and wise, or so we thought, and to be fair we tried to keep order in the Universe. We held to a strict policy of non-interference, observation only. There were those who didn't quite agree with that however, and I was one of them.
“In a way, some of it was my fault. If I hadn't run off with the TARDIS when I was in my first regeneration, looking for a way to keep the decadence of Time Lord society from swallowing my grand-daughter whole, we might have survived it all in the end. But perhaps it best we didn't, because at the end, we became worse than the monsters we told ourselves we were fighting.
“Picture a war, Captain,” the Doctor said, looking up at her with distant eyes, “that not only never ends, but never can end because it spans not only space but time. Whole worlds, winked out of existence by Infinite Improbability Fields, creatures that would shatter your sanity like the Nightmare Child, or the Could've Been King and his army of Meanwhiles and Never-Weres. The Horde of Travesties, beings that never should have existed had we and the Daleks not plucked them from the streams of probability that wind through the Time Vortex to unleash them upon each other.” He shook his head sadly, “I'm the Last Scion because I'm the last Time Lord.”
Bastion, his voice sympathetic for once, asked quietly, “What happened to the rest of them, Doctor?”
The Time Lord glanced back over to the guard captain and gave him a look that hit him with every last inch and second of time and space between Equestria and Gallifrey. “I happened. I was desperate for a way to end the war, end the suffering, but by the time I broke free of the madness myself it was too late. I used a doomsday device called the Moment to seal everything and everyone involved with the war away in an unbreakable bubble, never to be seen again.” He grunted quietly, “At least I thought it was unbreakable. One of the Daleks proved me wrong on that count. They call me the 'Oncoming Storm,' because where I go, calamity follows... at least for them, it did. So, I wander. I make friends, I do the impossible, or at least highly improbable, occasionally pick up a companion although they never stay, and do what I can to make the Universe a better place to live in.”
“I see,” murmured Celestia as she digested what she had just heard. “I can also see why you didn't want to talk about most of it. It must have been terribly painful for you.”
Nodding slowly, the Doctor replied, “It was. But you know, it's good to get all this off my chest for the first time in awhile. I... made some bad decisions recently, and it brought me a little too close to some things I really would not rather examine too closely. 'He who fights monsters,' and all that.”
“'He who fights monsters' what, Doctor?” asked Bastion.
“Oh, it's a quote from a fellow named Nietzsche I knew a while back: 'He who fights monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. If you gaze for too long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.' Bloody good thinker, but a bit too macho, if you ask me. I--” He stopped short, eyes wide open. “No. No, no, no, NO, NO, NO, NO!” Not pausing to explain, he bolted off into the forest toward the castle ruins, heedless of the rest of the group.
“Doctor!” shouted the Princess. As he kept running, she nodded at Bastion. “Follow that stallion! Bring him to heel, unharmed!”
The princess, her Captain, and her guards all stormed off into the night after the panicking chestnut stallion.