There was a twinkle in the golden stallion’s eyes as he pressed his cheek against the gray mare next to him. A short, red mane mixed with a long, black one. Her face was annoyed beyond belief, but there was a hint of smile that betrayed her inner feelings. The stallion’s tailcoat was slightly disheveled as the mare reached over to pull on his purple bow-tie, in a seeming effort to strangle him. Despite everything, the moment was perfect, forever frozen in time on a piece of glossy paper.
Frozen in place, Octavia studied the framed picture on her desk. Shivers went down her spine as the cold emptiness of the room seeped into her bones. Violet eyes glazed over as the joyous face of her parents stared back. Her mind had burned their faces to memory. She missed everything: the comfort, safety, happiness…the love. Their actual presence, however, was what she misses most of all.
She will never forget, but she couldn’t stay. There was nothing keeping her in place without making her heart clench, and mind reel with guilt. Blinking out of her daze, she turned around and walked towards her bed where an open suitcase lay. Reaching down, she gently lifted a purple bow-tie. A bow-tie she has seen many times in her life, immortalized in various frames in her room and a welcome shadow in many memories. She couldn’t help but feel the fuzz in her chest as she thanked the stars above that it was spared the carnage of that fateful night all those years ago by lying innocently in her father’s room.
Approaching another framed memory, she carefully set the bow-tie with a lingering caress before it. Her mind clouded as the image came to life around her. She saw herself and her mother sitting proudly back-to-back with their eyes closed, heads raised to the sky in exaggerated sophistication. Both were clad in a familiar tailcoat and violet bow-tie. Her mother’s was tailored perfectly for the occasion, while Octavia nearly drowned in the size of her own. Despite the supposed haughtiness of the image, she could easily see the determination the mares had to stifle their laughter. Their incredibly stiff forms shook in an effort to keep from exposing their mirth. An annoyed stallion rolled his eyes as they tried to remain oblivious to his presence before taking their picture while wearing an identical outfit.
The corner of Octavia’s mouth threatened a smile as it twitched upward. It was enough. She remembered, and she wouldn’t forget. The memories will stay with her. No matter where she may go.
“Miss Octavia, your taxi has arrived.”
Startled, her head snapped towards the direction of the door. After a moment’s pause at the sudden distraction of her butler, she swiftly moved to her bed, slammed the suitcase shut, hauled it onto her back, and took one last glance at the photos scattered about the room.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back. But when I do, I’ll make sure to visit you both.”
With that, she dashed out of her room, leaving her memories locked and preserved, waiting for her to return.
~~~
Octavia shivered. The bitter cold stinging her skin. She shrunk inwards into her cloak in an effort to keep her body warm. Adjusting her cloak, her ears twitched and turned behind her, alerting her of her surroundings. At the slight sound of rushing air, she instantly dropped to floor, narrowly missing a pair of claws aiming at her. She paid no mind to the sound of shredding fabric.
Looking around, she cautiously stood up before inspecting her cloak. Eyes narrowed at it as it fluttering in place, now in shreds. Violet eyes sharply scanned the tree line for movement, searching for her assailant.
~~~
“Ugh…Bats…Why did it have to be bats…I hate bats…”
Octavia grimaced as she swatted at the colony of bats flying above her head. Sighing, she lowered her hoof and kept moving deeper into the dark cave. She needed to find an entrance. She hoped it wouldn’t be a fruitless task since she was hopelessly lost. Everything looked the same and it was too dark to spot any differences in the rock. The thick cloud of bats above her did nothing to alleviate her tension. Following them was pointless. She had tried and it seemed that they were purposefully flying in circles, preventing her leave by refusing her the exit.
There was no telling how long she’d been wandering the extensive tunnels of the mountain, but it felt like ages. She bowed her head in exhaustion as her legs carried her further into the labyrinth. She could barely see. Even her hooves in front of her face were invisible as the gray from her coat blended with shadow. The darkness was consuming and it was eating her alive.
She stopped as her ears pricked forwards. She knew that sound, and it was heaven to her ears. It was the sound of running water. Carefully navigating the tunnels, she headed to the sound’s source, knowing her saving grace would be at the end. She couldn’t afford to rush to it as there was no telling just how dangerous the cave really was. It was lethal. Both the inhabitants and the cave itself wanted to keep her. She knew this, and she had to be careful.
Knowing she was growing close, she sped up her pace just a bit. Enough to move faster, but not enough to be careless. She stopped when a drop of water hit her nose. Looking up in an effort to find the source, but was greeted with more water falling on her face. With this, she knew she was getting closer and decided to keep walking. Octavia flinched as a colony of bats flew past her in a frenzy. Her grimace was short lived as a small trickle of water began to continuously pelt her back. With an echoing rumble, Octavia turned tail and ran after the bats.
The bats knew where an exit was. They would guide her to safety. They hadn’t yet, but surviving was much more desirable than toying with her. Surely it was more important. At the very least, she hoped it was. Her ears flattened against her skull as the sound of rushing water grew near. It echoed harshly through the tunnel, pounding into her skull. She took a deep breath as a wave of icy water hit her flank. Trying to keep her hooves on the floor was pointless as the rushing water swept her up and threw her around like a foal would a ragdoll. Octavia was helpless.
Struggling against the flood, she forced her powerful legs to keep her afloat. It was difficult, but not impossible. Despite being painfully thrashed against the rock walls, she managed to keep her head above the water. It wasn’t until she got the wind knocked out of her when her back roughly made contact with a jagged stalagmite that her orientation was thrown out the window. Taken by surprise with no air in her lungs, she no longer had a sense of up or down as she was carelessly pushed through the water-filled tunnels. Struggling for air and fighting to stay afloat, she soon began to lose strength in her limbs. Her eyelids started fluttering closed as she grew limp, completely at the mercy of the current. She could no longer fight, not with water in her lungs and weakness in her body.
~~~
The silhouette of circling bats against the moonlight was her only constant.
The darkness, your home. The shadows, your refuge. The silence, your power. They hide you. They protect you. Bats. The bats know this. Owls. Owls live this. Feel it. Embrace it. See. If you can’t see, listen.
Violet eyes closed, and she listened. Slowly, the sounds became clearer. She could hear the soft rustle of the remains of her cloak fluttering in the tiny breeze and the sounds of the bats overhead. The earth breathing under her hooves. Rustling leaves.
Snapping her eyes open, she swiftly turned around and sent an uppercut flying high into the air, propelled by her earth pony strength. Her eyes narrowed as her hoof harshly connected with a shadow. She watched it skid on the dirt before coming to a stop in a beam of moonlight.
The light betrayed her assailant, revealing a powerfully built griffin. His graying, dirty, black fur glistened in the moonlight; a pair of powerful wings slowly extended to keep balance; the disheveled, gray feathers of his head fluttered softly in the breeze; a slim beak curled in anger, and claws dug into the earth. His bright green eyes locked with her own.
Use the darkness, as it is your ally. Use it to terrify your enemies. Use it reveal your foes. You are the darkness. You wear the colors of the night. Let it be your domain.
Octavia readied herself as the griffin leaped towards her with claws bared wide.
~~~
A cough.
Two.
Purple eyes snapped open.
Sitting up, Octavia took in her unfamiliar surroundings.
There was a campfire. A tent. A mountain off in the distance. She was at a campsite. It was nighttime. There was a snapping twig.
Jumping to her hooves to face the sound, she was met with the sight of black furred griffin. Tensing, she backed away slowly. The griffin padded to the fire, and proceeded to drop kindling alongside it. She watched as he tended the fire, keeping her distance. She observed his well-groomed body. Sleek, black fur. Perfectly preened, gray feathers. Claws sharpened. H was definitely not a careless griffin. It put her more on edge.
“If you are done acting like a skittish filly, we may begin a conversation and settle down to eat.”
She glared at the griffin. Not trusting him, but decided to sit on the opposite side of the fire. Watching him while never dropping her guard. Her muscles quivered and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.
“Much better. Now we may speak like civilized beings. What is the last thing you remember?”His voice was smooth. Charming. She didn’t like it. It put her on edge.
“I was in the caves. A current broke through and flooded the tunnels.” He seemed surprised that she answered. She didn’t want to speak, but it might give her a clue as to what had happened.
“It makes sense. I found you outside one of the run-offs near the opening of a nearby cave, nearly dying from hypothermia. The rock isn’t very strong there and there is always constant flooding. I brought you here to recover, but you are strong for managing to stay alive despite my care. The floods are rather vicious during the wet season in the Griffin Kingdom, not to mention all of the unmentionable beasts and obstacles that roam these lands. Very impressive that you reached this deep in these lands on your own.
Which begs the question, what is a mare like you doing so far from Equestria?” There was a calmness to his voice. It wasn’t as inquisitive as she had expected, but an acceptance and dark curiosity.
She blinked and stared at the fire in an effort to clear her mind as much as possible. The embers seemed to dance in her eyes, replaying the memory that she wished never happened. She traveled so far, only to be cared for a stranger. She was weak. If she was stronger, none of this would have happened. She would not have almost drowned. She would not have gotten lost in foreign lands. She would not be the only survivor of her family; she could have helped.
“I came to grow. To become stronger.”
The fire continued its dance.
“Your heart is heavy, and your mind, clouded. Are you disillusioned by the promise of grandeur, or are you genuine in your quest?”
She could feel his eyes boring into her.
“Protect. I want to protect the weak. To prevent needless suffering. To bring hope to the hopeless. To fight injustice.” Her voice was low. Determined. She waited for his response as she heard him humming in thought before speaking.
“You cannot be weak. You will need training to be the hero you think they need.”
His emerald eyes studied her. He could sense her determination. This was no weak filly out for adventure and trivial thrill; surviving the floods proved this. The potential was there. He could bring it out and harness it.
“Sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll begin. You will become more more than a simple pony. You will be your ideal.”
Octavia’s head snapped up to look at griffin. Disbelief and confusion filled her thoughts as the griffin stood up and walked back into the woods, his voice echoing in the night.
“I do suggest the rest. You will most definitely need it. From here on, you may refer to me as your teacher.”
Violet eyes narrowed.
~~~
Octavia ducked under her mentor and dashed into the woods, leaving the griffin in her wake. Hiding in the bushes, she knew taking him on head-to-head would defeat the purpose of the training. She needed to become a shadow, not a brute. Now was not the time for such blatant violence. Watching him from the bushes, she knew their roles were now reversed. He was waiting, and she was watching.
She dove at him, sending him up to the sky with a beat of his wings, and then disappeared into the darkened trees. Watching him hover in the clearing, she crept to higher ground. She watched his gaze scan the area as she snuck to a small cliff overlooking their clearing.
Crouching low, she watched him. She had the upper hand. A winged predator never looks up, always down in search of prey. Her mentor’s instincts were no different. Leaping from the edge, she aimed her fall towards him. She grinned as her torn cloak left the silhouette of a bat, leaving her hidden from his view, thinking she was just another winged mammal of the many above.
Adjusting her legs, she moved them to land directly over the griffin’s wings, pinning him to the ground. His indignant grunt of surprise and pain satisfied her heart, much to her surprise.
“Hide among your brethren and use your enemy’s instincts against them. Well done my little pony. I yield as I have been bested.”
Carefully stepping off her teacher’s wings, she watched him get to his feet. Dusting himself off, he turned to face her.
“My admiration for you is well-founded, Ms. Mayne. May we meet again in the future.” She watched him bow his head in acknowledgement before he took off into the air, his dark fur blending with the sky. Turning around, she knew it was time to head home. Disappearing into the shadows, her ears twitched as they heard the smooth voice of her mentor.
“Be the legend they cannot stop, Octavia.”
~~~
Alfred Silvermane was good at his job. His Mistress has been away for years, but that did not mean he could slack off. He alone was tasked with the upkeep of Mayne Manor, and he would not let the estate fall into squalor under his watch. Every day he would clean and maintain the large property. It was a large job, but the brown earth pony had been trusted with it. To disrespect the property like a common miscreant would go against his code. He swore to uphold his duties as a butler and confidant, and he has proudly kept this oath through the years.
While, currently inspecting a mirror in the washroom, he could see a smudge of dirt on his pristine, white hair in the reflection. This would not do. The mirror was dirty, and it must be spotless. About to raise a cleaning cloth to rid the mirror of the offending stain, he heard a knock. Setting down the cloth, he made his way to the door, prepared to shoo away the visitor. It was most likely another journalist looking for the whereabouts of his mistress. Again.
Pulling back the door, he raised a brow at the visitor before him. While the dirty, disheveled, gray mare stood before him, he could see that she had grown quite a bit in the years that she was gone. Strong, familiar, violet eyes stared at him. They held a spark of clarity and life that he had not seen since she was a filly. One that both her parents held before their passing. He wished that he could ignore the lingering darkness hiding inside of his mistress.
He grimaced as a lingering smell reached his nose. This would not do. His mistress was filthy and unannounced. The disapproval over her state of appearance was evident as he opened the door wider and stepped aside.
“I’ll start a bath for you in the washroom Miss Octavia. And do wipe your hooves before stepping inside. I just recently waxed the floor.”
He watched her smile as she wiped her hooves on the welcome mat. Closing the door after her, he set off to the washroom to start his task. She was a mess, and he knew she needed a rest after such a long ‘vacation’.
He was in charge of the manor until his mistress returned. Not a speck of unwanted dirt would go past the door. Not a single mess or problem would escape his notice and be ignored. His mistress was no exception. She will recover in the comfort of her home after a much needed break until she is ready, and it would start with a long, relaxing, bath. Soon, he would officially meet the beautiful stranger who had finally returned home.
Not a single soul could say that Alfred Silvemane was neglectful in his duties.