//------------------------------// // 21 - Getting In Is Easy // Story: Black Angel // by Zobeid //------------------------------// Nightmare moon lay on her belly under a scraggly thorn tree and gazed across a dark plain, toward distant city walls. She’d been there for two days and nights, watching, studying and thinking. She had much to think about since her escape from Dankendreer. She remembered from long ago her time as Princess Luna, guardian of pony dreams. She’d been confident then of her powers in the dream world. She’d thought herself supreme. How naive! The Dreaming, she now knew, was far more vast, more strange, and more dangerous than the cute little suburb she’d once patrolled. Four times now she’d almost been lost, and she wasn’t even sure what had saved her from the last trap. It was humbling. Nightmare Moon much misliked being humbled, and so she brooded. She could sense the Nemesis was near. It could no longer fully mask its presence — not from her, not in The Dreaming. Not when she was this close. Could it sense her as well? Was it even now warning Grogar of her approach? No alarm had been raised during the time she’d been observing the city, but, for all she knew, Grogar could be quietly preparing a trap for her. Pensively, she scrutinized the timber ramparts. Tambelon! The dark city of legend! When she was small, her mother had told her old pony tales about Tambelon. It was a city of evil that had long ago been banished to Morbia, the Shadow Realm. According to the story, once every five hundred years it reappeared. Then Grogar’s armies came out to wreak havoc on the land until — by pluck and luck, in the stories — some intrepid band of ponies managed to renew the spell and banish the city and its inhabitants for another five centuries. She’d always assumed it was only a myth. Now she was unsure. Was the Dreaming the very same Shadow Realm that Tambelon had been banished to? Or was the entire city yet another purely fictional thing that took on a semblance of reality in The Dreaming? She’d ruled Equestria alongside her sister long enough that Tambelon should have reappeared at some time during her reign. Surely they would have heard about that, wouldn’t they? Perhaps it had reappeared somewhere else in the world, though — somewhere far beyond Equestria’s borders. The world was vast, after all. She struggled to remember what the stories had said about Grogar. He was not a pony but a ram, like his younger brother Thrognar. Yet, the story told, Grogar was also a powerful warlock. Whenever Tambelon manifested in Equestria, he’d sent out his troggle armies to capture and enslave ponies and other beings. If Grogar and Nemesis were in league, then Nightmare Moon faced a truly daunting prospect. Could she defeat a legendary warlock, his army, and her own doppelgänger at the same time? Moreover, she needed to capture Nemesis alive if at all possible, if her plans were to truly bear fruit. It was a critical component in her scheme to return to the land of the living, and to Equestria. And now she had to do it without any friends. The thought aggravated her, and she sneered out loud, “Friendship! What a worthless thing it proved to be! None of my supposed friends would carry out my orders.” She stewed. The situation was daunting, but the old inner flame had returned to Nightmare Moon when she broke free from Dankendreer. She couldn’t depend on anyone else, didn’t need anyone else. She relished the challenge and a chance to redeem her past errors. “If I can pull this off,” she thought, “nopony will dare question my power or my right to rule over Equestria.” A large silhouette rose up from the city, slowly flapping its way into the starry sky. It was another stratodon and rider, going for a training flight, or perhaps a courier carrying a message to a raiding party. Perhaps they were still trying to find out what had happened to Thrognar. Nightmare narrowed her eyes as she watched it disappear into the distance. “I won’t take any chances this time. I can’t hold anything back. They’ll feel the full measure of my powers.” The rising moon peeked over the horizon, shedding a subtle, golden glow across the plain. After it cleared distant hills, Nightmare Moon stood and walked along the banks of the river that passed under the walls of Tambelon, supplying the city with water. Cicadas buzzed, an owl hooted, and a light aroma of honeysuckle flavored the night air. Stands of reeds grew alongside the watercourse. Nightmare Moon smiled when she saw these. She stopped and closed her eyes, and her horn scintillated in midnight blue as she cast her spell. The night breeze grew stronger and began to rustle through the reeds. Lanterns hung at the city gates, attended by a few sleepy guards. Others patrolled the city streets, their crude sandals slapping on the rough cobblestones, their lanterns bobbing and flickering, casting small pools of yellow light. A patrolling troggle stopped — and his companion, who had been following, ran into him. “WTF DUDE??” the follower grunted in the crude language of trolls. “SHUT UPU!! I HEARED SUMTHING” was the first troggle’s reply. “WTF IS TAHT MUSIC??/“ They both stood still for a few moments, peering down the streets and into the dark alleys, listening. The sound was wee and distant, but it was definitely some sort of tune, as though a lullaby played on flutes. The second troggle muttered, “WHOA THAT IS SUM WEIRD STHI” He slowly sank to the pavement, setting his rump on the ground. The other one wavered as if struggling to keep his balance, then sat down as well. In a few moments the pair were slumped against one another, dozing peacefully. All around the city, at the gates, at the barracks, upon the castle ramparts, the few troggles that were still awake at this wee hour yawned, and their weapons fell from their hands. A few noticed the lullaby drifting on the night air, but none gave it much thought before succumbing to sleep. With a few flaps of her wings, Nightmare Moon was across the outer wall. Her hooves clattered on the cobblestones of Tambelon’s main avenue inside the city gates. She spared barely a glance for the guards dozing in their lantern light. She wrinkled her nose. Inside the city walls, the air was not so fresh — and the slumbering troggles had their own distinctive aroma. She strode down the middle of the main street with confidence. The previous night she’d made a reconnaissance flight high over the city during the darkest hours and had seen its basic layout. Now the moon lighted her path while she stepped around or over scattered trash. Lurking rats and the occasional mangy cat, unaffected by the lullaby spell, scattered when she passed by. She passed remnants of buildings that must have been stately homes in their time, now overgrown with weeds and shrubs, doors and windows broken, flecks of paint clinging to gray, weathered boards. Someone, squatters perhaps, still took shelter in them, she guessed from the stink and debris. Beyond the rotting homes she found a gladiatorial arena much like the one where she’d first fought Dominus Tusk. Nearby was the marketplace; most of the shops were boarded up, though a few still remained — the most notable of these being the saloons. At this wee hour, even those were shuttered and dark. Past the arena was a two-story building of fortified stone with a parapet around its roof and barred windows: perhaps a jail, or perhaps officer’s quarters. Beyond it were squat, boxy, wooden buildings that Nightmare Moon chose to interpret as barracks. Both the jail and the barracks had sleeping troggles slumped near lanterns, and she saw no reason to approach them. A stagnant, miasmic moat wandered through the city, past the barracks and training grounds, and beyond it were the stone ramparts of Castle Tambelon. Lanterns dotted the wall, sparse and feeble. Nightmare Moon spread her wings. Grogar tossed and turned. His bed was large, his mattress and sheets luxuriant, and yet something was not right. He rolled over yet again, sheets wrapping around his wizened body, constricting. His scarred nose twitched, then his eyes slowly opened and he muttered, “What is that sound?” With an impatient grunt he pushed aside the wadded covers and scooted off the bed, onto his cloven hooves. He blinked blearily, looking around, notched ears perked up. He sniffed the air. “And that smell?” he muttered. “BRAY! Bray, where are you?” Grogar bellowed in his gravelly voice. After a moment he grunted as he realized he wouldn’t be heard through the heavy walls and doors of his bed chamber. He stretched his neck, turning his head, reaching for a rope that dangled from the ceiling, clamped his yellowed teeth around it and yanked. Bells jangled somewhere not too far away in the castle, though barely audible to Grogar in his room. He tugged at the rope again and again, keeping up the din. When there was again no response, Grogar cursed under his breath. He went to a wooden stand, next to the door, and nosed into a harness, lifted it off its peg and shook it into place around his neck with a jangle of brass sleigh bells. A larger bell, an open bell made of silver, settled into place in front of his chest. He opened the double doors and ventured out into the cold stone halls of his castle. He’d not taken many steps when he found a brown donkey standing in the hallway, attired in a rumpled pajama shirt and a night cap askew on his head. Grogar glared at him. “Bray, what’s wrong with you? I expect you to come when I call!” The donkey said nothing. “Bray? Speak up! Answer when I talk to you!” The donkey remained silent for a moment… before letting out a loud snore. “Great Neckbeard’s ghost!” Grogar exclaimed. “How can he do that?” He sniffed at the donkey and wrinkled his nose as he growled out the answer to his own question: “Magic!” Grogar then held still and focused on Bray. His eyes gleamed eerily, and one of the sleigh bells around his neck jostled of its own accord, jangling harshly in the confined space of the hallway. From it shot a ruby red spark across to Bray’s hip. True to his name the donkey brayed and reflexively bucked at whatever might be stinging or biting at his hindquarters. His hooves met nothing but air. Eyes wide, he glanced around, spotted Grogar, and froze. Grogar pursed his wrinkled lips and squinted back with beady rufous eyes. Bray bowed, groveling. “Oh, Master! uhh… What can I do for you in the, uh, middle of the night?” “You were ensorcelled until I broke you free from the spell. Someone is using magic, Bray. Someone in my city is casting spells. I can smell it!” He sniffed again, and then sneered, “It reeks like one of those cute little ponies.” He put a contemptuous twist on the word cute, as if struggling to hold down his gorge. Bray scratched behind an ear with a hind foot, then shook his head, long ears flopping as he tried to get fully awake. Then he responded, “One of the slaves? A unicorn?” Grogar grumbled, as much to himself as to Bray, “All of the unicorns have been drained of magic. They couldn’t even light a match. Hmmm. All but one, perhaps. Yes… Down in the dungeon. One of them isn’t broken yet.” Bray gulped. “You mean… That one? I had a bad feeling about it from the start, I knew it was going to be trouble.” “Quit your whimpering! Get hold of yourself! I’m going down to check on the prisoner. You see if anyone else is awake, and wake whoever you can! But do it quietly. Don’t raise the alarm yet.” Nightmare Moon’s instincts and the pull of her nemesis guided her unerringly through the unfamiliar halls of the castle, and she strolled with impunity past sleeping guards. The interior of the castle was deserted, the servants presumably already asleep in their quarters before the lullaby spell even reached them. The trace of presence she followed led her to the innermost keep, past yet another pair of comatose guards, then down a flight of stone steps, and at the bottom of these she found a strong iron door. Curiously she scanned the door and found that it was magically warded; it would have been difficult to enter, especially without triggering an alarm — if it hadn’t been left open. “That is too convenient,” she muttered to herself. She entered slowly, silently, staying in the shadows. The dungeon was a simple corridor with stone cells along one side, but a lantern light flickered somewhere ahead. She moved closer, perked ears picking up the shuffle of hooves and raspy breath catching in a rough throat. At first the being who carried it was visible only as an indistinct silhouette between the light and herself. It wasn’t until the silhouetted shape stopped to hang up the lantern on a wall hook that she was able to recognize it. Grogar! The resemblance to his younger brother left no doubt. His bells jangled when he stood up on his hind feet, front hooves braced against a crossbar of the cell door. “You’re awake!” he accused, addressing the occupant of the cell. “I figured as much. The reek of your magic is everywhere. What have you done to my troggles?” After a few moments a voice drifted out from the cell — a voice uncannily like Nightmare Moon’s own, yet tired and weak. “You old fool. ’Tis no working of mine. Your doom, and mine, has come to Tambelon.” “Riddles!” Grogar snarled. “You’re in no position to ply me with riddles, nag. Answer sensibly or I’ll have your black hide for a rug!” Nightmare Moon’s heart raced while she pieced together what had happened. Grogar and the Nemesis weren’t allies, and he still wasn’t even aware of Nightmare’s presence. He’d even unwittingly opened the door for her. This was perfect! It was beyond perfect. It had to be destiny. Such moments had to be seized. From the cell: “Nightmare Moon has come for me! Is that plain enough?” Grogar squinted through the bars, into the dark depths of the cell. “Who — or what — is Nightmare Moon?” “Turn around and see!” answered a voice from behind him. Grogar spun to look as Nightmare Moon stepped out of the shadows. Clad in her silver armor, starry mane billowing, she grinned at him and said: “BOO!” At the same time her horn glimmered with magic as she cast a spell she’d used often in The Dreaming: Aura of Fear. Grogar took an involuntary step back, but only a step. “What’s this?” The spell Nightmare had cast fizzled out. Grogar’s momentary look of confusion shifted to a grimace, and he said, “Well, another little pony. Show me what you’ve got, girl!” He lowered his head, facing her with his horns, and scuffed the ground with a cloven hoof. Nightmare Moon tossed her head and snorted, annoyed that Grogar was unaffected by the terror she usually evoked so easily. More direct measures would be needed. “You asked for it, old goat.” She charged her horn with her most powerful lightning spell and let it fly straight at him. In the claustrophobic confines of the dungeon there was no way to miss. The blast of thunder and blinding flash obscured the details of what happened then, as the lightning bolt seemed to hit Grogar, but a moment later an equally powerful bolt returned against Nightmare Moon, hurling her backward through the dungeon’s corridor. Confused and hurting, she groaned and struggled to pick herself up. Past the spots in her eyes she saw Grogar walking toward her, seemingly unharmed. Over the ringing in her ears she heard him say, “You certainly have some strength. Now taste mine!” One of the bells on his collar jangled, and his horns sparked red as a spell coalesced. Hastily Nightmare Moon cast a defensive shield. The shield had hardly formed and was already collapsing by the time Grogar’s flame bolt impacted it. The half-formed shield couldn’t prevent fire from scorching the feathers of her wings and searing her legs, ears and delicate nose, though it saved her from much worse. With no idea why her magic wasn’t working or how to fight back, Nightmare Moon did what came most naturally to ponies in situations such as this: she turned and ran. Her hooves clattered on the dungeon steps while Grogar’s mocking laughter chased her. She scrambled past the iron door and onward, to get out of the keep, to the open sky of the castle courtyard. As soon as she was clear she spread her wings and flapped, but barely managed more than a hop before stumbling back onto the ground. Her primary flight feathers had been scorched badly, her wings clipped by fire! Hurriedly she began to cast a restorative spell upon her wings, but the spell once again fizzled out as quickly as it had formed. This time she could see exactly where the magic was going: it swirled and then whisked away, behind her, to Grogar, who was just then strolling out of the castle keep with smugness written all over his ugly face. The wisp of magic from Nightmare’s spell funneled into the silver bell hanging from his collar. He urged her, “Go on! Use more magic! Every spell you cast serves only to give me power.” Now entering into panic, Nightmare Moon tried to shift into her night mist form. She’d barely begun to vaporize when, once again, her magic failed her, and she returned to solid flesh and blood and slumped to the ground. “You see, it’s no use,” Grogar explained as he approached her. “How did you think I was able to use magic? Didn’t you even wonder? I can’t produce magical energy the way a unicorn does, but with this enchanted bell I can take it from them. And when I’ve taken all of yours — oh, what power I’ll have!” Yells came from the outer portals of the yard as a squad of armed troggles rushed in, followed closely by Bray, who had by now exchanged his pajamas for mail barding and a helmet. “There’s the intruder!” he brayed. “Block off all the exits!” “You might as well surrender,” Grogar offered amiably. “I can make your life comfortable here, once you’ve been trained to recharge my bells on command.” Nightmare Moon glared, draconic eyes filled with the blackest of hate. “That will never happen,” she spat. “I’ll break you!” His eyes glowed, a sleigh bell jangled, and an angry red flare of magic surged upward into the air above Nightmare Moon. Her own long centuries of accumulated arcane knowledge and experience allowed her to recognize the working; in that split-second before the spell manifested, she realized he was conjuring a massive object. With a powerful kick of her hindquarters she leapt away, and an iron cage crashed down over the spot where she’d been. “I’ll get her!” yelled Bray, and he gave chase, his poorly-secured barding flapping as he galloped. She raced toward one of the gates, but troggles had formed up in front of it, blocking her path with their staff-weapons. Some worked to close the gate while a couple of others fired badly-aimed bolts of magic. Nightmare Moon made a sharp turn away. Grogar cursed and began casting another spell. Nightmare’s turn brought her closer to Bray, who made a heroic leap and clamped his jaws onto her tail. Nightmare Moon whinnied and bucked; she hadn’t even noticed when her tail had become solid matter again. Her kick could have easily taken off the donkey’s head, but a glancing blow merely sent his helmet flying and left him dazed. An instant later another magically summoned iron cage came down — right over Bray, trapping him. “Blistering imbecile!” Grogar cursed, and he trotted to the cage. Bray moaned, “Did anyone get the number of that ox cart?” Nightmare Moon had made it to a clear part of the courtyard and skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust. She glanced this way and that, looking for a way out of this trap. Another magic bolt flashed past her. She couldn’t just stand here and wait for the troggles to close in. Gritting her teeth, she turned away from the gates, toward a castle wall, and charged at it. Then she spread her damaged wings and flapped with everything she had. Buzzing like a hummingbird, she found a gear she’d never known she had before, and she wobbled into the air. “STOP HER!” Grogar yelled out. Troggles fired their staves ineffectually, most bolts sizzling away through the air, a couple detonating upon the stone rampart. Straining, Nightmare Moon scuffed a hoof upon the top of the parapet as she barely cleared it, then disappeared from view. A moment later a loud splash was heard, and a strangled cry came from the other side of the wall. Grogar laughed and said, “She didn’t get far. It sounds like she ran into the Magnet. Let’s go outside and take a look, shall we?” He quickly dispelled the cages, releasing Bray, then trotted toward the gate. The troggles re-opened the gate and followed Grogar out. Bray, still recovering from his gong-ringing and having difficulty walking in a straight line, trailed behind. The troggles broke out in laughter when they saw Nightmare Moon trapped in the coiled tail of a river monster, itself still partially submerged in the moat. Purple-scaled it was, with a mane of silver hair. “W00T!!1” yelled a troggle. Others chimed in: “MANGET FTW!!” and “U PWNED TEH PONE!” Even Grogar was uncharacteristically pleased as he called up to the river monster, “Good work, Cynthia! I’ll have the Stratodons bring you some extra fish for this.” It — or rather, she — peered down at him and answered, “Make it good, Grogar! Herring fish, or cod. I be sick and tired of trash fish.” “Of course, of course! Has the pony ceased struggling yet?” “She done got the sass squeezed right outta her.” The river monster uncoiled its tail and dropped Nightmare Moon in a limp heap upon the bank of the moat. Grogar nodded and waved the troggles forward. “Come on, boys! Bind her horn, truss her up, and put her in the dungeon with the other one!” Nightmare Moon’s eyes barely opened. She worked to breathe. The troggles were crowding around. “HOGGLE U GOT TEH WIRES?” one asked another. “WHOS GOT SUM NETZ?” No. Just no. Nightmare Moon was an ancient alicorn, ruler of the night, rightful ruler of Equestria, with the power to move mountains or smite cities. She couldn’t — wouldn’t — be laid low by an old goat and a few smelly hobgoblins. With an un-ladylike grunt she flung her powerful wings open, knocking troggles aside. “Don’t let her get up!” yelled Grogar, but it was too late. Troggles tried to grapple with her, but a convulsive lurch propelled her upward, onto her feet. She tossed her head, breaking loose the grasping hands of the troggles, and waved her horn like a sword to make them back off. She bucked, knocking one through the air and into the moat. Having beaten the soldiers back, if only for a moment, she reared and leapt over their heads, her abused wings once again fluttering for whatever lift they were worth. “FUXXORS!!” one troggle yelled. She cleared their heads, and her hooves crashed down on the dusty field for an unsteady landing, and then she attempted to break into a gallop. SPLOOSH!! A jet of water knocked her off her feet, just like the one that earlier had knocked her out of the sky above the moat. The river monster dipped its head to gulp water for another shot. Magic flashed as troggles fired their staff-weapons, and one scored a hit on her belly — a painful, numbing shock that jolted a startled cry from her throat. The troggle soldiers charged after her, but Nightmare Moon summoned up a last, desperate reserve of strength — perhaps from the moonlight spilling down from the sky, or perhaps from the natural endurance of an earth pony. Her hooves kicked up dust as she got them under her again and ran. She left the troggles behind and scrambled across the open field surrounding the castle, to the shelter of the buildings in the surrounding city, and ducked between two warehouses. Scowling (an almost permanent expression for him at the best of times), Grogar watched Nightmare Moon disappear into the shadows of the city. “What does it take to stop this one?” he muttered. He looked around. “Bray? There you are. Signal the city gates, make sure they’re closed! Raise the alarm and get patrols out on the streets to track her down!” Bray saluted and went to direct the troops. When Bray returned to the castle a short time later, he expected to find the old warlock infuriated. Grogar was easily infuriated. As dawn began to break over Tambelon, however, he seemed almost jovial. He commented, “It’s been an exciting night, eh? Invigorating!” Bray bit his lip. “I guess so. But, uh, Master… We can’t find the black pony.” “Yes, shame about that. But we still have her twin — who I look forward to interrogating closely about all of this. She’s been keeping secrets. And if this Nightmare Moon is foolish enough to return, we’ll be ready. She took us completely by surprise this time, and we still almost caught her. We’ll set up more lanterns at night and issue more nets and stunners to the troops.” Grogar glanced at the brightening sky. “Soon it’ll be light enough for stratodon patrols to join the search.” Keeping in the shadows, constantly on the move, Nightmare Moon continued putting distance between herself and Castle Tambelon, where she assumed Grogar remained. In a dark alley she tried to cast the tiniest of spells, only for her magic to whisk away toward the castle. “I don’t believe it!” she groaned. “How far away from that accursed bell must I get?” Meanwhile, a tower bell had been ringing for several minutes, and more and more troggles poured into the streets. Watching them scurry to and fro, she chose her moment with care and gambled on a dash across a wide street, then worked her way through the shadows of the marketplace, then to a last block of abandoned houses in the corner of the walled city. This was as far as she could get from the castle. She cast her magic, levitating a cobblestone — and, to her immense relief, the spell held! She wasted no time healing her own burns, bruises and scorched wings. Then, teleportation, and she was outside the city walls. Although exhausted and demoralized by failure, she was, for the moment, safe.