//------------------------------// // Intermission 3: Monster in the Mirror // Story: Twilight Sparkle and the Witch Baby // by Brony_Fife //------------------------------// INTERMISSION 3—Monster in the Mirror The Judge’s mansion wasn’t like anything Spike had ever seen. He was still as amazed now, after a month in servitude to His Honor, at the talent and resources that had gone into its construction. First off, it was built at the bottom of the ocean (Itself an amazing feat), and was parts Western, Eastern, and even some architectural styles Spike couldn’t place. Soldiers decorated in black armor similar to the Judge’s were on guard in every hall, with two by every door. Their presence, along with the architecture, made Spike think he was inside a castle or a fortress instead of a mansion. Despite being underwater, there were still windows, fashioned in a way that seemed both gothic and futuristic at the same time. The glass was several inches thick (As was necessary to survive water pressure), and when Spike gazed outside, the ocean seemed both beautiful and terrifying—the water was dark, and he could occasionally see fish swimming by, along with ponies wearing diving suits that worked on the mansion’s exterior in order to prevent leaks. The halls were twisted and bizarre, almost like walking a mile along nothing but a concept, or somepony’s imagination. Spike often got lost, and eventually would only venture forth in the mansion with one of the other servants who at least had a better sense of direction. That pony today was Sunset. “I can’t believe you’re still unable to find your way around,” Sunset groaned. This was probably the tenth time he’d had to lead Spike like a lost puppy. They walked by a statue display of satyrs playing their instruments while two centaurs, a male and female, danced to an unheard rhythm. The way they were detailed led Spike to believe they might be real. He eyed them suspiciously as he walked by. “Those aren’t real,” Sunset muttered, seemingly more to himself than to Spike. “Keep close to me, or I’ll leave you behind.” “What’s the point of having a maze for a mansion?” “In case anypony gets the idea to break in.” “How?! We’re on the ocean floor!” “I don’t know! Why don’t you ask your shiny little diamond?!” “Why are you always so hostile?” Sunset stopped and turned, looking Spike straight in the eye. Spike knew him well enough now that Sunset only did this when he was truly angry. “Why shouldn’t I be?! You’ve worked with us for almost a month, been nothing but a pain in the plot, and you’re STILL getting lost! You’re a DRAGON for Pete’s sake; use your sense of SMELL to find your way around!” He turned and began to lead again. “The REST of us have to use our memory.” Spike grunted. Not about to be left behind in the company of these frighteningly realistic satyrs, Spike followed Sunset further down the hall. If Spike had paid closer attention to them, he would have noticed their eyes following him as he walked by. They walked side by side for a while. Spike decided to break the silence. “Hey, look, I’m sorry for—” “Sorry nothing. You have abilities you should be using when you need them, but you’re not.” Sunset didn’t bother looking at Spike. “Instead, you want me to hold you by the hoof—” “I don’t have hooves.” “Whatever.” Sunset stopped. Spike stopped too, after taking a few steps more than his guide. The dragon turned to face the orange Pegasus. Sunset wore an expression of docile resignation, topped with consternation. “What?” Sunset looked at Spike thoughtfully for a second or two. Then he shook his head and said flatly, “I’m not leading you. If you want to find your own way around, you need to use your own senses.” Spike’s face matched Sunset’s in grumpiness. They glared each other down for a few seconds before Spike snorted, “Fine. Just be like that.” Spike took a deep breath, taking in the smells of this underwater fortress. The smell of cleaning fluids wafted into his nostrils, followed by smells of plants from the garden nearby. He walked around absently, trying to get every smell he could in order to form a map in his mind: he could just make out the kitchen, the ball room, the art museum, the barracks, the armory, and he could smell some of the servants (and from some of the additional smells, Spike concluded that two ponies were up to something in the broom closet they shouldn’t be doing while on the job). He caught onto one particular smell—Shine Brightest. He could always tell it was her since her scent reminded him of lavender. Spike followed the scent trail until he began to hear singing. Shine Brightest loved spending her off-time in the mansion’s garden (which was inside a dome; the artificial environment designed to house thriving plant life). Spike knew almost everyone had what he once heard was called a “Laughing Place”, where they could go and think things over, humor themselves, and relax. Twilight had her study, Applejack had her orchard, Rarity had the spa, Pinkie Pie had… everywhere, and Shine Brightest had her master’s garden. As he entered the garden (His first time there, as a matter of fact), he was surprised by how lush and dense the plants were: it was almost like the Judge had transported half of Everfree forest into his mansion (and was smart enough to leave out the wildlife). Plants that were various healthy shades of green, blue, and yellow topped with blossoming flowers pink, white, red, and yellow. Trees of all kinds reached toward the glass ceiling, gazing up at the ocean above them. From the ceiling hung even more plants and vines. The whole place was an exotic wonderland of a garden. From inside, Spike began to make out lyrics. Take a melody, simple as can be Give it some words and Sweet Harmony Raise your voices Come on now, let us all join in the Simple melody of love (ah, Love!) Her voice reminded Spike of Fluttershy’s wonderful singing, although hers possessed the kind of regal ambience of an opera singer. (Now that he thought about it, Spike would have to introduce the two if he could. He imagined they’d become fast friends.) He made his way into the conservatory, where he saw Shine Brightest singing to her flowers as she watered them. Suddenly, another voice joined in with her song, this one deep and powerful (but also quite young-sounding) in contrast to Brightest’s feminine lilt. Spike looked about, and spotted Sunset descending from over him. Sunset and Shine Brightest shared glances that spoke more than their mouths could: Shine Brightest was surprised, Sunset’s said don’t be afraid, I’m here. They joined together in song, brother and sister, and the garden seemed to come alive, an audience of flowers taking in their song. Spike began to applaud as they finished. Sunset looked at Spike—and just like that, his warm smile shifted to the default grumpiness Spike was used to. “You guys were awesome! Where’d you learn to harmonize like that?” Shine Brightest sat on a bench. “We… share what Sunset likes to call a ‘psychic link’,” she said. “Whatever I think of—” “I think of too,” finished Sunset. “So, twins?” asked Spike. Shine giggled. “No, but the way we act, we might as well be.” Sunset’s usual frown intensified the more Spike looked at it. Was this guy EVER happy? “So if that’s true, do you always feel as cranky as your brother?” Spike asked. Sunset’s frown had grown to the point where it felt like just looking at it was robbing Spike of fun. Shine Brightest had thrown her head back and laughed. “He’s only as negative as he is because he’s so impatient.” Sunset looked sideways at his sister. “It’s a side-effect to being intelligent,” he argued. Spike felt like arguing, since Twilight Sparkle, also intelligent, was never as “impatient” as Sunset was (even though she was occasionally thoughtless). “Is being constantly agitated a side-effect of being intelligent, too?” “No, it’s a side-effect to being in the presence of imbeciles,” Sunset retorted. “Nah, you just need a marefriend.” “What makes you think I don’t already have one?” “The fact that you’re a total wound-up sourpuss is a real clue!” Shine Brightest giggled. “Stop it, you two,” she said. For a while, they sat in the garden, talking. The topic wasn’t important, and they’d bounce around from subject to subject, just shooting the breeze. Suddenly, Shine Brightest gasped and pointed to the ceiling. Both Sunset and Spike followed her gaze. Above, just outside the ceiling, a flock of jellyfish were swimming by. It reminded Spike of clouds, clusters of clouds that breathed and bobbed along. They moved silently through the water, like ghosts, their forms all pulsating and pushing their way forward. The spectacle put its onlookers into a silent trance, captured by its mystery and dangerous beauty. The jellyfish parade was beautiful and the siblings were enjoyable company, but a nagging void still thrived in Spike’s heart. It seemed Shine Brightest could feel it too. She looked at Spike, suddenly breaking the awed silence. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?” They already knew his relation to Twilight—and he already knew about how the Judge felt about her. After some heavy silence, Spike asked, “… Why does he hate her so much?” He looked into Shine Brightest’s eyes. “The Judge doesn’t…” His eyes started to fill with tears, much to his surprise. “He’s not a bad pony. And neither is Twilight.” His throat contracted as the tears began to flow, almost angrily, down his cheeks. “Why is he doing this to her? I-I don’t understand…” Shine Brightest looked to her brother. Again, their facial expressions spoke silently: do you want to tell him, or do you want ME to tell him? Sunset let out a heavy sigh, and from Spike didn’t see where, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away Spike’s tears. (Sunset was a jerk, certainly, but he too realized Spike was still a baby.) As he dried Spike’s tears, Sunset said simply, “There are some things in life that just fall on our backs with no real explanation, good or bad.” He breathed a sigh from his nose. “What happened to the Judge… wasn’t his fault, and he did nothing to deserve it.” “But what does Twilight have to do with it?” At this, the siblings fell silent again. They loved their Judge, and they felt bad about this whole situation. Spike was a baby without his mother. They both knew what it was like to be removed from their mother’s side, to be thrust into a scary new life—and what it was like to fall in love with their captor. Spike looked closer into Sunset’s eyes. Sunset looked away, his bottom lip quivering. “I’m sorry,” he choked, his voice an uncharacteristic quiver. “I’m sorry you had to get mixed up in all this. I’m sorry Miss Sparkle had to get mixed up in all this.” Spike’s eyes widened. “What’s,” Sunset gulped, then tried again, “What’s going on here is bigger than you, or her, or the Judge.” “What?” Spike asked. “What is it?” Sunset looked him in the eye—the thing he only did when he was truly angry. But when Spike looked back into those eyes, he saw a different emotion: fear. “I can’t say! I can only ask you to not ask us this question. We’re not allowed to answer that!” And Sunset bowed his head, and shivered, and wept. Shine Brightest got off the park bench and held her brother, tears rolling down her face. Before Spike could say anything, Shine Brightest drew him into the hug and kissed his cheek, telling him that it’ll all make sense one day, that it wasn’t fair, the world just wasn’t fair. Across the garden, there was a tall, white unicorn with abnormal eyes and teeth, his fearsome black armor absent. He heard their conversation, and felt their pain. He walked away, his head lowered. He knew this path was not a righteous one, but the Judge was too far in this, and had hurt too many ponies, to back out now. He’s not a bad pony. Spike’s kind words rang in his ears, but words was all they were. How he wished he could agree! But all of the sins he had committed to this point would all say otherwise. Murderer. Kidnapper. Stealer of souls. The Judge closed his eyes and sighed. As he left his garden and slowly walked down his hall, unaided by any of his servants, he raised his head. He was the villain. This was his role. He could not refuse it. He could not change it. He could not escape it, no matter how hard he tried—no matter how nice he was to his subjects, no matter how much he loved anypony else. There was no way he could save himself. Not anymore. ***** In the Master’s Chamber, the Judge walked up the large few steps to the Black Mirror. On the other side of this mirror was a world the Judge saw every night, in every dream. And in every dream, it was the same thing: torment. Every morning, he would wake up in a cold sweat—to see the scars on his body that weren’t there when he went to sleep fade away with the dream. In front of this mirror, stood the Judge. This mirror must have been a good twenty-to-twenty-five feet high, round, outlined in darkly colored porcelain beautifully chiseled. On either side were lighted torches—and as the Judge spoke his Master’s name, the normal fires suddenly burned black, casting a ghostly green shadow across the room. The world on the other side of the mirror ceased its infernal noise, and the Judge’s Master appeared. The Judge bowed, until the Master called for him to rise. You have called me. For what purpose is this audience summoned? The Judge fought the urge to cower. His Master’s voice was more like the howling of wind—piercing and hollow, removed of anything that could be deemed good. “My Master, I fear there is corruption within my ranks. The plan is beginning to unravel.” His Master’s mouth took an unpleasant sneer. He glared at the Judge. Is there any reason for this to be news? You know what you must do. Find he who has betrayed you. Kill him. “My Master, I do not think you fully understand. My closest disciples are beginning to drift away from your teachings.” My teachings? You mean your teachings. You taught them to be weak, like you. Had you followed my will, and to the letter, you would not be in this situation. The Judge lowered his head at these words. The thing his Master never seemed to understand was love. He gave up on arguing with him decades ago. But what else could he do? His powers were given to him by his Master—and what the Master gave, the Master could easily take away, along with everything else. “But I have followed your will thus far, my Master.” Then tell me why is it my project is so endangered by your ineptitude, that you must speak with me about it? You have failed me in this respect. “I have my friend Captain Keelhaul on a mission for the One Light, as you asked, my Master. And Speeding Bullet has put tremendous effort into transferring magic into machinery, also as per your request. They are as faithful to your vision as I am.” Are they truly? You put so much trust in a seafaring thief and one who is no longer flesh and blood. It is this faith that shall destroy the whole plan. The Judge could feel his anger rising, but tried to control it. He was very protective on behalf of the few friendships he managed to form, despite his unpleasant place in the world. He would not snap at his Master. He could not. After taking some deep breaths, he regained his strength and continued. “With all due respect, my Master, they were as nothing without me as I was without you when you found me half-dead. They would not betray me; it is Happiness I fear who has.” At this, the Master stroked his beard. Happiness became a disciple at his Master’s insistence, and the news that one of his own suggestions backfired was… unusual for him. Please elaborate. “He has disappeared, and has not reported back for several weeks. Before he did, he was assigned to show one of our benefactors a set example of our ‘enchanted arms’ technology that Speeding Bullet successfully created. He failed to do this, causing unnecessary friction with our benefactor.” The Master thought this over. This is disconcerting news. Happiness has enough darkness in his heart to rival yours. Darkness is a volatile substance that only the strong can control. The Judge had heard all this before—back when he had accepted the Dark Powers as his own. “My Master, what should we do?” Seek him and kill him. He is unpredictable and cannot be trusted. “But Master, you’re the one who suggested I make him one of my disciples. Now you are suggesting I kill him?” At this, the Master leaned down and glared at him. The Judge—no, it was Star Fall this time. He could feel the pulse of the Dark Powers devouring him from the inside out. The kind of pain he felt is something that I cannot describe, for if there were any words to describe it, they are apart of a forgotten language. Do not question my authority! You have no right! You have failed me in not planning ahead and keeping happiness within your reach! You keep your useless faith in friends who will one day leave you—just as she did! She who had left you half-dead, naked of value, and hopelessly alone! And it was I who found you! I, who raised you back from the void! Shall I send your useless flesh back to her, she who had thrown away your love for her?! Star Fall had been brought to his knees, his body convulsing helplessly. The purple aura around him was a bad sign—the Dark Powers within him were bubbling, almost ready to burst. He tried to breathe, but the air seemed to avoid him completely. He was in a vacuum, helpless in his Master’s grasp. Perhaps I should have left you to die in that forest! Perhaps I should have passed you by, in search of a better receiver of my gift! Like that Twilight Sparkle! She seems a fast learner! Tears began to form in Star Fall’s eyes, but as they left they burned up. He tried to gasp, to beg his Master to please stop, STOP! you’re hurting me! YOU’RE HURTING ME!!! Anyone but you! You were worthless then! I tried my damndest to make you harder, better, faster—stronger! It seems I have failed! You were worthless then, and you are worthless now. He felt a powerful surge from the Dark Power within him, shaking him, his black teeth almost being shook right out of his skull. Star Fall was cast to the ground with a loud thump, and all at once, sweet air found its way back into his lungs. He waited until he had his fill of breathing, then crawled back up to his hooves. What am I? The Judge knew this question, and knew the answer. He bowed his head, fighting back tears of humiliation. He spoke his next words through a heaving breath. “You… are the… Scourge… of God.” Exactly! I am the Scourge of God, appointed to chastise you! For no one knows your inequity but me! You are wicked, but I am more wicked than you—So be silent. The Judge lay there before the Black Mirror, before his Master, defeated. He lowered his head, this time, resting it on the ground. And what are you? Not this. Not this again… “I am the tool: your sword, your hammer, your lance. I am He Who is Destined to Bring Destruction to the World. I…” Tears formed in his eyes as he spoke. “I am the ‘Witch-Baby’, the Poisonous Child of Spider-Borne.” He still remembered growing up. He still remembered how everypony else jeered at him, feared him for his strange appearance and stranger powers. Witch-Baby! they would cry. Witch-Baby. That’s what he was. Witch-Baby. The villain. This was his role. He could not refuse it. He could not change it. He could only accept what he was, and what his great role is in the grand scheme of things. “I…” he finished. “… I am also yours. To you, my Master, I pledge my body and soul, for you and only you to do with as you see fit.” He looked down at the floor and noticed it was wet and black with his tears. Arise. Arise and face me. The Judge did as he was told. You, tainted equine, O poisonous child of spider-born, are the Judge of all flesh and blood, as I am the Judge of you. You are punisher, tyrant, tormentor—and it is you who shall bring to me the world and all that dwells within. Now go. And with that, his Master turned away from the Black Mirror, and into the shadowy dream world. The black fire went out as if a wind had hushed it. The Judge was standing there, in the dark—facing a Mirror that held both his worst nightmares and his own punisher, tyrant, and tormentor. And these days, he couldn’t draw a distinction between the two! ***** Judge Star Fall exited the Master Chamber, out into his own bedroom (of which it was hidden behind). He took a moment to dry his tears and then walked out into the hallway, and from there into the Grand Hall, where he was greeted by his attendants Sunset, Shine Brightest, and Spike. They were flanked by some of the Judge’s best soldiers, led by their Captain, Willy Pete. The Captain was a pony the Judge personally admired. He had offered to make him a Disciple, only for Willy Pete to decline in order to retain his position as Captain of the troops. He never slouched or stuttered in his speech; his eyes were a steely kind of red, his mane a tough crew-cut of even-darker red. His coat was white (Though not as white as Star Fall’s, it was more like “toasted marshmallow”), and on his flanks was a cutie mark of three fireballs forming a circle. As a unicorn, his horn was sharp and his mind sharper. “Sir!” Shouted the Captain, and he and his troops saluted and stood at attention. His personal attendants and other servants bowed, while all present Disciples stood up straight in his presence. The Judge looked into this crowd. Ponies from all walks of life. Plucked from their normal routines. Conditioned to accept horror as a way of life. Ready to put down their lives for their Judge. He gazed upon all his power, upon all his Master had given him—ponies who actually cherished him, and each other. He was the villain. He could not change it. He could not refuse it. And he wouldn’t. Not for the world. “At ease,” he said. The troops and disciples relaxed but remained at attention. The servants stayed bowed but looked up at the Judge. Star Fall walked down the steps, regal as a king, as he made his announcement. “I bring you grave news. It seems one of my Disciples, Happiness, has both abandoned and betrayed us. “He is unpredictable, and what he does next will likely be detrimental to the Master’s Plan. Happiness is now an enemy. Captain, if at any time you or your troops chance across him, it is your duty to see him destroyed.” “Sir, Understood, Sir!” “We must try to get the rest of the plan back on track. We will have the One Light in our possession in due time. And Speeding Bullet has successfully created the enchanted arms technology. Our benefactors have given us generous advances—all but one.” He turned to one pony servant, who was about to cheer. “I’m sorry, but this does not guarantee a company party.” He turned to another who raised his hoof. “Or raises. My apologies.” Some of the ponies’ faces fell. He retained his previous posture and continued to walk down the rug. “That money is being put more into our research of the mind control spell necessary for the second-largest step in the Master’s Plan.” The Judge had crossed the Grand Hall by now and sat on his throne—a plush chair of red pillows with golden lace, the wall behind it lined in red curtains. Shine Brightest and Sunset draped a black cape across the Judge’s bare back, the fearsome image of the torn white Pegasus glistening in the light. “Are there any questions?” Willy Pete raised one. “Permission to speak freely, Sir?” “As always.” The Judge was constantly entertained by Willy Pete’s insistence on behaving strictly at all times, but he could see why: he was a leader, and wanted to set a good example for the other troops. “Have there been any changes in the Twilight Sparkle situation that we should know about, Sir?” The Judge noticed Spike to his left, and watched his facial expression carefully. Spike was putting on a brave face, but he could tell the little guy was worried. The Judge straightened his posture and looked into Willy’s eyes. “I have made a promise to one of you, and I won’t say who, that Twilight Sparkle, while an enemy, is not a target—that is, so long as she manages to stay out of our way. Unless she herself decides to cross horns with us, she is not to be touched, under penalty of death.” “Sir, Understood, Sir!” He hated having to issue out such a strict order. But he wanted to make absolutely sure his promises could be kept. His troops seemed to be fine with the guidelines set before them. “Are there any other questions?” After a few seconds of silence, the Judge nodded. “All right, then. If there are no further questions, I declare this ‘company gathering’ over.” For the rest of the day, he’d have to speak to his other disciples and discuss further planning. Work, work, work. As he viewed his disciples coming in as his servants and troops all left (except for the Captain and his main guard), he noticed one of his disciples was missing. Well, besides Happiness. “Has anypony heard from Witching Hour? He’s heading the mind control spell research now, isn’t he?” Another unicorn, a svelte black female, answered. “He has not contacted you, my Judge?” “I sent him a letter asking him to attend today’s meeting, and he has not arrived. I have not heard from him for four days.” The Judge suddenly appeared frustrated. His disciples, having known him for long, merely dared not make eye contact with him. He grunted. “I suppose I should just give him a surprise visit tomorrow.” He turned to Spike. “Spike, please put this down on the calendar.” Spike, as he usually did, pulled out his quill and stationery—this one a list of things to do the next day. He looked it over. “Tomorrow seems pretty busy. I can probably squeeze in your meeting with him if—” “Actually, cancel everything else. I’m going to meet him first thing in the morning.” Spike eyed the Judge curiously. He wanted to ask a question, but at this point he understood when it was best to just not say anything. He shrugged and merely crumpled up the schedule and took out another page of stationery. On it, he wrote: 7:00 AM—Meet with Witching Hour at Everfree Forest Base.