• Published 5th Jul 2015
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The Phantom Pony of Everfree - LightningSword



Who is the Phantom Pony of Everfree? What is he? And can he be approached with anything but fear?

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The Approach

“I'm sorry I'm late, Spike!” Twilight announced as she trotted briskly into the library, a bag of newly bought ink bottles slung around her neck. “You wouldn't believe how busy the ink shop was today!”

Spike had just finished licking his claws free of crumbs. “Hey, Twilight!” he greeted her happily. “You know, Fluttershy came by while you were out, and she told me to tell you 'hi' for her.”

“Fluttershy, huh?” Twilight asked as she opened a drawer with her magic. “How is she?”

“She seemed in a pretty good mood. A little jittery, but nothing unusual.”

Twilight chuckled good-naturedly as she began levitating her new ink bottles into the drawer. “Sounds about right. Did she need something?”

“Eh, nothin' that good ol' Spike couldn't handle,” the little dragon grinned as he dusted his claws and went back to work. “Just needed a little thank-you card written up, is all.”

“Oh, really? For whom?”

Spike shrugged. “She never gave a name. Just somepony who did a good deed for a squirrel the other day, I guess. She's putting together this care package for him.”

“Hmm, that's really nice. He must be a decent pony, then, if Fluttershy is willing to reach out like tha—” Twilight froze mid-sentence, and the ink bottles caught in her magic froze with her. “Wait,” she said urgently, “what good deed? What squirrel?”

Spike shrugged again. “I don't know, something about saving its life. Sounds like a nice guy, if you ask me . . . man, that was a good cookie! Hey, Twilight, maybe after we're done today, we can go pick up some cookies! Sound good?”

No answer.

“Twilight?”

Still nothing.

Spike turned away from his cataloguing to face her. “Hey Twilight, I asked if we could pick up so— . . . where'd she go?”

Twilight had disappeared, all but one ink bottle put away; the last one spun around on the floor, as if in the wake of a gale of wind.


“La, la-la, la-la . . . .”

Fluttershy sang gleefully to herself as she cantered leisurely through town. The tension she'd carried concerning her friends and keeping her secret had already dissolved, and she was confident that her mission to reach out to Nocturne had remained hidden. She even felt a little giddy, imagining how happy Nocturne would be at receiving such a thoughtful gift. Before, she'd been worried that Nocturne might not even know what it felt like to receive a gift, but that would change very soon.

The Phantom Pony would soon know that someone in Ponyville was thinking about him in a good way.

“La, la-la, la-la, la-la,” Fluttershy continued to sing delightedly to herself, until she was stopped by a sparkling flash of light before her.

From which Twilight Sparkle appeared, her eyes narrowed and still.

“Oh! Um, hello, Twilight,” Fluttershy greeted her, trying to repress her surprise, and the sudden return of her panic, “w-what are you up to today?”

Twilight's serious look was unwavering as she replied, “Oh, nothing, Fluttershy. Just trying to prevent you from making a really big mistake.”

Fluttershy's eyes widened. She'd been caught at last. “Ummm . . . .” she tried replying calmly, hoping she could still slip out of this, “why, Twilight, I have no idea what you're talking about—”

“Save it,” Twilight's serious tone persisted, “you're going to see that Phantom Pony, aren't you?”

Fluttershy gave a small gasp, then a short sigh. “Oh dear . . . how did you know?”

“Spike told me everything. You asked him to write a message on a card for him, something about thanking him for rescuing a squirrel. Now, unless somepony else you know has been saving squirrels in the last seventy-two hours, it can only be for one pony.”

Fluttershy tilted her head guiltily toward the ground. It wouldn't do any good to keep fooling anypony. It had felt dishonest right from the beginning, and she didn't like being dishonest for any reason, even a good one. And she remembered what Applejack had always said: that dishonesty would be found out sooner or later.

“Okay, you're right,” she relented, “it's all for Nocturne.”

Twilight sighed at the sound of the name. “Fluttershy, since when did you start calling him by a name? This is the Phantom Pony of Everfree we're talking about here! It doesn't make any sense to give a name to a ghost!”

“But Twilight, Nocturne isn't just some nameless creature,” Fluttershy argued. “He's a pony, too, and he has his own name. He told me so.”

Twilight gave Fluttershy a look that was a mixture of incredulity and skepticism. “Oh, he 'told you so',” she replied. “The pony specter that's been haunting one of the most dangerous places in Equestria for decades, has his own name because he told you so?! Fluttershy, what are you thinking?” her tone went up as she spoke, and the concern in her voice quickly grew with it. “Can you even hear yourself? You've seen what the Phantom is like! He went to extra lengths just to get you and Rainbow Dash out of his home! This isn't like Zecora, Fluttershy! He's dangerous! He only scared you this time, but if you go back there—”

“Twilight, please!” Fluttershy interrupted, struggling to keep her feelings together. “I know you don't think so, I know nopony thinks so, but . . . but I think we might have been wrong about Nocturne.”

Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “Fluttershy,” she pressed on, “you're my friend, and I care about you. That means I can't let you risk your life trying to chase this monster!”

“Twilight,” Fluttershy's soft voice slowly became strong and resolute, “Nocturne is not a monster. You may not know it, but I've done a lot of thinking about this. He never hurts anypony. You know that, right? He just scares them away. That's all anypony says about him. And he went out of his way to save a life he didn't have to save. If he were really as bad as you think he is, then he wouldn't have stopped that tree from falling, right?”

Twilight tried to argue, but her features slowly softened in response to Fluttershy's words. “Fluttershy, I . . . .”

The Pegasus nodded. “I know you're worried about me, Twilight,” she said calmly, “but he's not a bad pony. He just wants everypony to think he is so we'll leave him alone. I'm sure of it.”

Twilight tried again to rebut her stance, but seemed to draw a blank. Fluttershy was true to her word: she'd done far more thinking about this than Twilight had expected. In fact, Twilight herself looked as though it were starting to make some sense in her own mind. Furthermore, whether sense was relevant or not was itself irrelevant—Fluttershy was determined to display that rare moment where she would not budge on the matter.

After a brief pause, Twilight finally relented. “All right, fine. I trust you, but I don't trust this Phantom. So as your friend, I'm going with you to make sure nothing bad happens. If you really think he's not so bad, I'll let you go along with this, but if—”

Fluttershy gave a tiny squeal of joy and hugged her friend. “Oh thank you, Twilight! Like I said, just give him a chance. All he needs is a little kindness, you'll see—”

“Okay, okay, just let me finish,” Twilight pleaded as she was hugged. Fluttershy released her, and she continued, her earnestness returning. “Yes, I'm going with you to make sure things don't go wrong. But all I ask is that, if they do, we leave immediately. That Phantom Pony—”

“Nocturne,” Fluttershy corrected, “his name is Nocturne.”

Twilight sighed and rolled her eyes, but allowed it. “'Nocturne'. 'Nocturne', is a loose cannon. So, if things start falling apart, we run back to town. No questions, no thinking, no nothing. Safety trumps all. Okay?”

Fluttershy took a deep breath as she considered these terms. They weren't that bad, and she was sure Nocturne wasn't going to do anything bad. And she felt that it would have been difficult to do this by herself anyway. “Okay, Twilight,” she replied with a nod, “fair enough. But I'm sure everything will be fine. Like I said, Nocturne's not bad. He just needs a little kindness, that's all.”

Twilight frowned, but kept her opinions to herself from then on as the two walked together toward the edge of Everfree Forest—Nocturne’s territory.


The small creatures of the forest scurried away as they heard him coming. Squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, mice, insects, spiders: all raced away at the sound of his hoofsteps, as it had been for many years. All ran scared at the mere sight of his shadow. All fled in fear from the glow in his eyes.

And it felt good.

Nocturne trudged through the woods, obscured by the perfect shadows cast by the trees, as he patrolled his territory. His painstaking assertion of control over this part of Everfree Forest was well-spent; nowadays, no one could even think about walking into these woods without shuddering in terror at the thought of him. He was merciless to all that were unfortunate enough to cross him, be it a ferocious bear or a harmless vole.

Or a frightened Pegasus easily prone to crying.

Nocturne stopped when he thought of her, and shook his head to clear his mind. Why would he even remember that stuttering little trespasser, anyway? She wasn't worth the effort; she'd crossed the line—twice—and Nocturne had put her back in her place, her and her spineless rainbow-maned friend. They’d both gotten what they'd deserved, especially the whiny yellow one. He had no reason to think back on it again; he had no remorse whatsoever.

Or did he?

No! he thought, firing up the glow in his scarlet eyes. No remorse! No regrets! No mercy! She just better have learned her lesson by now. Both of them. No one crosses Nocturne! Not pony or beast!

Not anymore . . .

“Umm . . . Nocturne? Yoo-hoo, Nocturne?”

Another trespasser.

The voice sounded familiar, though; he was sure he'd heard it before. It came from the edge of the woods, and Nocturne swiftly made his way through the trees and bushes in deep shadow. It was simple enough; years of exile in the Everfree Forest made it easy to see in the dark.

He would find the intruder and stop her before entering his woods. And if she managed to get inside, Celestia help her . . .


Despite the silence between them seeming to distend time, Twilight and Fluttershy reached the border to Everfree Forest reasonably promptly. The two mares glanced at each other, and Twilight spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?”

Fluttershy hesitated for a second, but composed herself, nodded, and carefully sat her basket down in the grass just outside the wall of trees and shrubs. “Well, I was thinking, maybe if we call him from outside the woods, he won't chase us. He just wanted us out before. So, maybe he won't get so angry if we don't actually go inside?”

“Whatever keeps us out of harm's way,” Twilight replied, her body tensing up and ready to act if something happened.

Fluttershy faced the trees, took a deep breath as if to scream, and called out softly, “Umm . . . Nocturne? Yoo-hoo, Nocturne?”

Knowing fully well that that call probably couldn't be heard by anyone except her, Twilight still felt the need to leave before the situation worsened. She glanced at her friend again and shrugged. “Oh, well, I guess he's not home. We'll have to try again tomorrow.”

“Oh, don't worry, Twilight,” Fluttershy attempted to quell her fear, “I'm sure Nocturne heard me. He's probably just farther away than usual right now. I'll try again.”

Twilight suddenly felt a bit disturbed by the unusual role reversal. Normally, it would be Fluttershy doing the worrying and trying to back out of the deal; to see her take charge and calm down the “cowardly one” made her mind do somersaults. She was half-tempted to look around to see if Discord was about.

“Are you there?” Fluttershy spoke to the trees again, louder this time. “I . . . I have something for you. I just wan—oh!” She stopped when she saw them—a pair of burning red eyes, glowing brightly from inside a dark shrub.

Twilight crouched defensively, but Fluttershy held up a soothing hoof. “Fluttershy, I hope you know what you're doing,” Twilight mumbled.

Fluttershy looked back and smiled. “Trust me.” Slowly, she pushed the basket toward the glowing orbs inside the shadowy bush. “Um . . .” she began, “I just wanted to give you this. It's a little something I put together for you, as . . . well, you know, as a thank you. F-for what you did for that squirrel yesterday. You . . . you saved his life.”

The eyes blinked, then shifted from side to side, as if glancing between Fluttershy and Twilight. They were then aimed at the basket, and they blinked several times again. There was a pause, then the eyes narrowed into malevolent slits, and Nocturne's light, yet vicious voice finally answered:

“This is your last warning. Stay away from me and my forest, or else.”

There was another brief pause in which Fluttershy struggled to reply. “But . . . b-but I . . . I only wanted to—”

“Did I stutter?!” Nocturne snarled from within the shrubbery. “I said get away from me. Now!” This only served to upset Fluttershy even more; little by little, her eyes widened and began to water.

“Now wait just a minute!” Twilight snapped as she stepped up, assuming the voice and posture of somepony unwilling to let her friend withstand any more torment. “Fluttershy is trying to be nice to you, and this is how you repay her? Who do you think you are?! And I thought you were decent because you saved a life! I'll bet this is the first time anypony’s been kind to you, you ungrateful, mean-spirited old—”

“NOW!!”

Nocturne's enraged roar interrupted her. At the same time, bursting from the shrubs on either side of the eyes, was a pair of enormous, ugly, scaly black wings. Fluttershy saw them, and remembered her horror from her first encounter with them, and their owner. Instantly, she squealed, hearing the sound in stereo, courtesy of Twilight's voice right beside her.

Another brief pause later, Twilight struggled to speak, but the force in her voice was completely gone. “Okay . . . uhh . . . have a nice day.” She then turned tail and bolted back to town, and Fluttershy made to follow.

She stopped for a moment, though, remembering her manners, and turned back toward the woods, and toward Nocturne's gleaming red eyes.

“Umm . . . I-I hope you like the basket.”

At these words, the eyes widened beneath the shadows of the foliage. Fluttershy saw this for only a second, but she knew perfectly well what it was: surprise. It was as if Nocturne was shocked at Fluttershy's insistent generosity. Even if it was just for that slightest of moments, he clearly didn't know how to react.

“Fluttershy, come on! Run!”

The yellow mare then snapped back to the moment, and she left with one last, “Bye.” She then raced away, calling out to her quickly-departing friend, “Twilight, wait for me!”


Good riddance.

Nocturne took a step backwards, deeper into the woods, and scowled. First, that little yellow pest he'd sent crying from the forest came back to mind, now she was back in person? What was going on here? And just what in Equestria did she even think she was doing today? She had come face-to-face with a living nightmare three days ago, and she had the nerve to come back twice? How could she possibly not have learned to stay away? Was she stubborn, insane, or just stupid?

Nocturne's disconcerted thoughts were in a rush. Three days ago, that Pegasus looked as though her encounter with the “Phantom Pony” himself had scarred her for life. Now, here she was, back at the forest, making some kind of a peace offering to the very beast that had terrified her to begin with.

And she brought company, again? The sheer, infuriating audacity!

If she expected him to be willing to forgive and forget, as if this would be some kind of ceasefire treaty, or offering to placate a vengeful spirit, she was sadly mistaken. No hatchets would be buried, and no peace would be made. That weak-willed little cretin and her friends had to learn not to cross the Phantom Pony of Everfree, even if it took every last ghoulish trick he knew. They would keep away from him, and he'd make sure they'd stay away.

However, Nocturne thought back to the Alicorn (he’d never seen one before) and her caustic words, and remembered how they made something flare up in his heart. It was vaguely familiar, something he'd struggled to suppress his entire life. It was pain: searing, debilitating pain that had threatened to cripple him again and again over the years. With it came so many thoughts, emotions, and memories he'd struggled all his life to forget. It brought back rage and fear. It brought back the tantalizing urge to release his emotions through rivers of tears. It brought back the feeling of being alone. Worst of all, it brought back a childhood of torture worthy of Tartarus. Nocturne knew then that he had to shut her up, immediately.

Luckily, his fiery eyes and demonic wings seemed to do the trick; the mouthy Alicorn had turned and run, fearful and chastened. He loved it when ponies could take a hint.

Nocturne made to return to his patrol, but something kept him in place. A faint aroma wafted through the air. Cinnamon . . . chocolate . . . it smelled incredible, unlike anything he'd smelled in years.

. . . . Cookies?

The Pegasus' last sickly saccharine word had been about the basket she'd left there. And she said she'd made it for him. Was this to be the peace offering he'd theorized earlier? And didn't he already assure himself that he wanted nothing to do with such a useless gesture? In any case, Nocturne felt his stomach growl with every tickle of his nose the scent made, and he knew he couldn't resist curiosity; he hadn't eaten in a good while.

Nocturne slowly turned back to the forest's edge and poked his head out from the brush. He sniffed cautiously at the air, letting his nose lead him to the basket that was supposedly her token of appreciation for his act of compassion (which he was already starting to regret). Despite his mental objections, his stomach only kept on churning. He was starving, and at this point, it didn't pay to be too proud or too picky. He looked around the open area outside the forest; the two mares had completely gone, and no other pony was nearby at the time, so no one was a witness to his half-appearance outside the woods. Still checking around to make sure nopony would appear unexpectedly, he gripped the end of the basket with his teeth and dragged it into the bushes. Soon, both Nocturne and the basket were gone from view.

Not even two seconds after his teeth touched the basket, the smell got stronger.

Once a good distance back inside the woods, Nocturne sat down, looked inside, and saw that there was indeed a pile of freshly-baked cookies inside. Upon closer inspection, he saw that there was also a thick wool blanket and a stuffed duck plush along with them. He pushed past the other things in the basket, took a cookie, and took a bite; immediately, he felt a burst of pleasure go off in his mouth. It was easily the best, sweetest, most delectable thing he'd ever tasted. He quickly started on another, then two more, and before he knew it, the cookies were gone.

It would be a good few minutes before Nocturne noticed the other items in the basket; even after the cookies were all finished, the pleasure center in his mind was still going haywire, and it was a feeling he admitted he hadn't experienced since before he could remember. He then saw the blanket and picked it up, and without even pressing it to his fur, it felt comfortable in his hooves. He pressed the fluffy cloth to his face, and the warmth and comfort almost lulled him to sleep right on the spot. As he took his head away and unfolded it completely, he noticed one other object fall off the top. Slinging the blanket over his shoulder, Nocturne reached out and picked up a small slip of folded cardboard; a closer look told him that it was a card of some kind. Opening it, he saw that there was something written on the inside, and with his honed night vision helping him, he read the message:

To my very special friend,

I wanted to thank you for what you did for that squirrel yesterday. That was so kind of you to save him the way you did. You had the chance to ignore him, but you chose to save him, and that tells me that there's something truly good deep inside you. I hope you can give me a chance to thank you properly someday. Until then, I want you to know that you have a friend here in Ponyville.

I hope you enjoy the cookies, and your new cuddle buddy. Be sure to stay warm, and please be safe.

Love,

Fluttershy

Nocturne was reeling. How could this be? A pony he'd taken special care to keep away from him was taking such unnecessary time and effort to be kind to him? By this message alone, it was clear that this whole offering wasn't just a paranoia-fueled apology to keep him away, as he'd originally hypothesized. She'd taken time to bake these cookies herself, and the blanket looked as though it were homemade, as well. She'd even given him a stuffed animal of his very own!

But it was that card—a simple card with a simple greeting—that showed just how little this Pegasus knew about Nocturne. It showed how annoyingly ignorant she was of who he was and what he was capable of. At the same time, though, it showed how much she did know about him. She'd seen a sliver of his good side that day when he'd rushed to stop that falling tree from crushing a squirrel, so she saw something that nopony else had ever seen. And the way she said it in the note, it seemed as though she knew perfectly well she was talking to a normal pony, and not some demented animal living in the woods alone. Ironically, she seemed to have him all figured out, and that threw the fear of Tartarus into him. She had come close to him, closer than anypony had ever been. He didn't like that, and wanted to avoid it at all costs, but at the same time, he knew he desperately needed it. It was something he had gone without for far too long—too long to even tell if he'd ever had it.

Besides: was it so foolish to want to show somepony a little compassion?

Nocturne picked up the stuffed duck plushie, and it made a soft, high-pitched “quack” sound as he gently squeezed it. How had that little Pegasus signed that note?

Fluttershy.

Nocturne would have to remember that.