//------------------------------//
// 14 
// Story: Golden Prose 
// by Field 
//------------------------------//

We had barely made it a half mile down the mountainside when the sky opened up in a torrential downpour. Each raindrop was a bucket, and the buckets came relentlessly. Any hope I’d had of keeping the material for Vinyl’s Molotov cocktail dry enough to actually use were a thing of the past.

The one benefit of the downpour was that it provided a sort of white noise that removed the need for conversation between Golden Prose and I. As much as I wanted somepony’s feedback on what Princess Luna had told me, and as much as I wanted to know what had happened to her under the farm field, I couldn’t find the nerve to be loud enough to be heard.

That seemed to be alright with Golden Prose. The mare had taken the lead and stayed several yards ahead of me without so much as glancing back once. It was disconcerting considering how easy it would be for us to get separated.


I don’t know when we passed the actual threshold from the surrounding patches of forest and into the actual Everfree. 
Slowly but surely I became aware of other sounds layered beneath the pounding rain. They were whispers, but unlike the threatening chatter of the Taken these voices seemed neutral. It was like I had stumbled into somepony else’s conversation and they had yet to notice me.

It was the final straw for me. I quickly trotted up beside Golden Prose, looking for some kind of indication that she was hearing the voices as well. I half expected to see the dead eyes of a Taken when I nudged her, but found only the tired eyes I had seen all night.

“You shouldn’t listen to them, you know. Nothing good will come of it.”

Apparently she had heard the voices too.

“What do you think they are? Taken?”

If they had been Taken they would have come after us by now despite our flashlights, but I didn’t know what other being would possibly be in such a place on a night like this one.

“No, but what they are isn’t really important right now. I have to talk to you about something.”

My ears perked up. As if on cue we passed into an area of denser canopy and the roar of the rain became less deafening.

“Maybe you should just start with what happened to you out by the farm. Last thing I saw was the ground swallow you bucking whole before that shadow tornado descended on us.” I kept my voice down out of a fear that just mentioning the thing would bring it back down on me.

“Remember those books that you and I took from your house? Did you actually read any of either one?” Golden Prose continued on, seemingly oblivious to anything I had just said. 

“What? No… well, I glanced at one of them. What does that have to do with anything?”

The mare shot me an exasperated look. 

“Didn’t you find it odd the story had a modern setting?”

I shrugged and gave her a frustrated shake of the head in return.

“Come on, Mossy. How old do think those books were? Even with preservation enchantments they were practically turning to dust under our hooves!”

My mind suddenly put two and two together. I’d been too tired the first time I looked at the book and too distracted every other time they’d come up. There was no way the author of the books could have so accurately described Equestria as it was today. Even the most powerful unicorns couldn’t use their magic to see the future.

Seeing that I had finally made the connection, Golden Prose nodded and continued on.

“On the morning before Atten Burro died you burnt your right forehoof trying to start a campfire for breakfast. The other members of the crew made fun of you for trying to be rustic and you eventually gave in and used a match.”

I gave her a sideways look but didn’t reply, unsure of what she was getting at. I’d never taken the time to read it, but when the production assistant’s journal had gone public little details like that could have become known.  Golden Prose had never given any previous indication that she read much into the story when it came out though.

“You didn’t tell anypony, but you were trying an old fire starting technique that you remembered your father using instead of just using a match. You superstitiously hoped that if you showed respect to your elders somehow the universe would grant you your shot at the Ursa Major.”

There was no way the production assistant had known that. Hell, with everything that happened that day I barely remembered it. But she was right. I had been desperate at that point and looking for any little thing to bring me some luck.

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared hard at the mare. She continued on several paces past me and then turned. The look on her face was utterly impassive. Wholly inappropriate for somepony revealing details she should have had no way of knowing.

“You want to know how I knew. It was in the book.” The flashlight in her saddlebag flickered slightly. “You know what that means don’t you?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re even talking about.” I stammered through my words, my mind still racing to find an explanation.
In the distance a peal of thunder rumbled through the hills. I snapped to look in that direction but Golden Prose remained unmoved.

“Don’t be willfully dense, Mossy. The book was about you, and if you’d read a little further you’d have realized the book you picked up was about me.” She took a step toward me. “Stories depicting the pivotal moments of our lives. The experiences that shaped us into the ponies we are today. What do you think that means?”

I turned my back on her and tensed up, losing my makeshift shovel weapon out of my saddlebag straps in the process.
“It means that somepony used the power of the Everfree to look into the future… but why look at us?”

Golden Prose tilted her head as if considering my guess.

“That is not completely out of the realm of possibility. But you know as well as I do what happens to anything written within the Everfree. Surely the author who wrote those books lived on the same property you so foolishly tried to call home. Wouldn’t it be more likely that that pony, in fact, wrote us into existence?”

In a way it made sense to me, yet it didn’t. Ponies used to Everfree to gain power or wealth. Golden Prose and I weren’t any more remarkable than other ponies. Moreover, we were actively fighting against the Dark Presence, the very thing that seemed to control all the Everfree’s creations on some level.

“I just felt you deserved to know that after everything you’ve done.” The mare’s voice was closer behind me than before. “Though maybe you wouldn’t have helped me if you read a little further into the story. You might have seen this coming.”

Even in the unrelenting humidity of the storm the barrel of the revolver was still ice cold on the back of my head. I wanted to react, but every fiber of my being seemed to still be hung up on what Golden Prose had just said. Even as the hammer clicked back I could only stare forward, paralyzed.

“Thank you for all you’ve done.”


The tree the lightning struck couldn’t have been more than ten yards away from where we stood. The light was blinding and the crack shook through us like an earthquake. Time seemed to slow and I was almost certain I saw forms within the darkness around the tree retreat from the sudden illumination.

The jolt was enough to shake me from my stupor just as the unicorn pulled the trigger. The momentary distraction altered her aim just enough for me to throw myself out of the direct path of the shot. Pain radiated through my face as the round ripped a shallow path from back to front down the side of my jaw. 

Before she could regain her aim and fire again I found my footing again and bucked back as hard as I could, knocking the pistol from her magical grip. The pistol flew, but not far enough away for my panic to be alleviated.

In one swift action I scooped the long handled shovel up in my mouth and swung it back around at Golden Prose. The unicorn seemed stunned that I'd retaliated and the flat of the shovel blade caught her right in the saddlebag, shattering her flashlight. She wheezed at the impact and but didn’t go down like I hoped. It was unnatural.

Shovel still gripped tightly in my teeth I retreated back several paces. I didn’t know whether Golden Prose could retrieve the gun without actually being able to see it, but I wanted to give her a chance to reconsider before I struck again. In the darkness the lone light from my flashlight directly in her face should have kept her off her guard just enough.

The hesitation was a mistake. The author’s horn illuminated with that familiar golden glow and a bolt of magic shot out and obliterated my flashlight, taking a good portion of the saddlebag pocket it was strapped to with it.

There was no way the mare should have known combat magic of that degree. It was a strictly guarded technique reserved for the Equestrian Royal Guard and a select few other law enforcement agencies. Ponies had to train for years to master it and there was no way for me to defend against it.

Rather than wait for the next bolt to hit me where I still stood, I hurled the shovel in the direction where Golden Prose had been last and took off through the trees as fast as my legs would carry me. Over my shoulder I could see a flash of golden magic once again. She had either destroyed or deflected the shovel. I couldn’t tell if she was pursuing me or not.

Branches whipped me in the face as I barreled headlong through the forest. There was just enough moonlight and the occasional flash of lightning for me to avoid the trunks of the larger old growth, but I still crashed through and bounced off of smaller trees and saplings.

My face throbbed with extreme pain as I trampled through a particularly thorny bush. It gripped at my fur like a hundred tiny claws and smacked into the wound on my jaw. The pain cleared my head of the fog of panic and I began to think rationally for a moment. I was making myself easier to follow by stumbling around so noisily. 

After I extracted myself from the thorn bush I crept to the nearest old growth tree and collapsed against it. No sooner did I hit the wet ground when another thought crossed my mind. My saddlebag now had a huge gaping hole in it. I’d probably lost the contents in my mad dash.

“She bucking shot me!” I mouthed silently to myself as I blindly rummaged through the damaged pocket of the saddlebag.  My hooves brushed against warm metal and I nearly gasped in delight. Vinyl Scratch’s lighter had somehow opened and shut at some point in my journey. Luckily for me it had closed on a loose thread on the inside of the bag, preventing it from flying out like my flare gun seemed to have done.

Finding the little device brought another thought to mind. I quickly flicked the lighter to life, knowing that the risk of being spotted was outweighed by the risk of being overwhelmed by the inhabitants of the darkness.

I knew I was in trouble. The Taken would be deterred by the light, but there was no way the lighter would last me through the night. My only weapon against them was the thoroughly soaked Molotov. I didn’t dare risk accidentally igniting it by trying to dry the rag with the lighter. I had no other cloth to replace the rag should I have to pull it out to prevent the entire thing from going off.

I flexed my bleeding jaw and glanced around nervously. There were vague shapes milling out in the darkness. For now they seemed to be keeping their distance. All it would take is one of them getting wise enough to throw something to knock the lighter over and I would be dead. Or worse, one of them.

As long as I had been unconscious in the darkness of the radio station’s root cellar I was probably already becoming more and more susceptible to the Dark Presence’s influence. What if it would be as simple as one of the Taken laying hooves on me to overpower me at this point? I certainly wasn’t feeling physically strong enough, let alone mentally strong enough to resist. I just wanted to be out of the forest now.

Fear overwhelmed logic and I began to dangle the Molotov over the lighter, hoping that somehow the heat from the flame would dry the rag faster than the rain leaking through the canopy could wet it. I was so engrossed in not letting the rag actually touch the flame that I almost missed the faint blue lights moving through the trees to the right of me.

I was suddenly jolted by a crash of something that wasn’t thunder. It came with the familiar cicada rattle of a Taken and something that sounded like splintering wood. The Taken seemed to have spotted something, though it didn’t seem to be me.

The blue lights seemed to bob and weave between the trees with no particular destination in mind. Each time a Taken announced its presence it was swiftly met with another crash and the splintering of wood. 

The fact that the Taken were more interested in it than me was of little comfort. There was no telling what horrors the Everfree forest was home to after dark. Even without the Dark Presence it was a place where many peculiar magical creatures roamed.

A flash of lightning gave me my first glimpse of the creature’s outline, and it was one all too frighteningly familiar. It seemed to be an alicorn in full battle regalia. Only Nightmare Moon, whatever she was at this point, would walk freely in this place. I could only surmise that she was fighting the Taken in an attempt to lure me out with perceived safety, or taking out her frustrations that her underlings had not yet managed to get me.

I was a sitting duck with the lighter illuminating me. It was only a matter of time before she spotted me tucked away under the tree. I had no choice but to strike first while I still held the element of surprise.

I dipped the Molotov down so that the rag fully touched the flame and to my surprise it instantly ignited. The fuel inside must have been a potent mix.  If I’d had time to laugh about losing my eyebrow in such a way I would have.

The next time the blue lights passed out from behind a tree I pitched the bottle with all my might. Like a comet in the night sky the cocktail arced through the air toward the lights. Then it stopped.

My breath caught in my throat. The bottle hovered inches away from the lights, ensconced in a faint purple glow. I had failed.
The fire from the cocktail was snuffed out and the lights disappeared in a purple flash.

“I have not been greeted in such a way for a long time, Mossy Hooves. Do you greet many others in this manner?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin as the alicorn reappeared by my side. Her words didn’t drip the sickening sweetness that Nightmare Moon’s had. It sounded like Princess Luna, but I wasn’t certain which of them was under the frightening black armor.

The alicorn levitated Vinyl’s lighter to her face so that I could see her clearly. It truly was the Princess of the Night.  I could see it in her eyes and rationalize it by her ability to sit so closely to the light.

“I… I’m sorry! I thought…” I stammered but the Princess hushed me with an armored hoof to my lips.

“I know you did not mean it, but now is not the time for rambling apologies. We have much to discuss and virtually no time in which to do it.”