Case Twenty-One, Prologue: Nightmares
“Don’t do this,” the mare whimpered.
She looked up from the chair she was strapped to, tears staining her eyes, straining against the bonds around her limbs.
The light directly overhead burned her flesh, making sweat drip from her mane and onto her once-pristine uniform. All around her were silhouettes in the darkness, shining eyes staring pitilessly. The barrels of weapons were glimpsed in the shadows, not raised, but hooves resting on triggers.
“Cinque.”
The prisoner flinched at the voice behind her, as cold and hard and pitiless as dirt being poured over her grave.
“Treno.”
The prisoner’s heart accelerated, thumping against her ribs. Her breath came in rapid gasps, punctuated by the occasional stifled sob.
“You know this is wrong,” she protested to her captors. “You...we can’t just--”
“Quattro. Bara,” the voice behind her spoke again, cutting through her protests like an avalanche cleaving through a train track.
Half-formed curses sputtered through her damp lips. The prisoner strained in her seat, tugging futilely at the straps. She tried to force magic through her horn, only to cry out as the appendage flared with agony as the energy was blocked by the black stones painfully jammed into the calcium.
“F-fuck! Please, please sto--”
“Tre. Ceneri.”
A jolt ran up the mare’s spine like an electrical shock and she gasped; she felt tendrils in her cranium, like spiders dancing over her brain. Fog seeped into her thoughts, blurring emotions; she struggled to remember that she was a prisoner, that they had lied to her, were using her research to kill so many, that she had to stop them, fight them…
A flicker of light caught the corner of her eye. She turned to see her friend staring coldly at her, her uniform so sharply creased that it almost cut the eyes to look at. Her expression was carved from stone; the only sign of emotion from her was the blue-white sparks shooting from her broken horn.
“Tempest…” the mare gasped. “Tempest, please…”
Another flicker like a dying lightbulb illuminated the opal eyes; beneath the cold veneer, the irides flickered briefly away, the mouth twisting slightly. One of the figures next to the opal-eyed unicorn turned towards her, but the mask had been replaced as soon as the flickering light passed.
“Due,” the voice spoke again; the prisoner could hear the smile in his voice. “Fiori.”
The probing limbs dug deeper into the mare’s mind and she shrieked as pain and confusion spread through her body. She was...she was...who was she? Why was she scared? Where was she? Who...who was…
“Uno.”
“NO!” the mare howled, her screams echoing through the room as she made one last strain, one last push against the coming darkness…
“Casa.”
The scream was cut off as suddenly as a switch being thrown. The mare sagged in the seat, her jaw hanging open slightly as her rapid breathing began to slow. She watched herself as if floating overhead studying the scene, as her limbs relaxed, as the terror left her tear-streaked eyes.
Hoofsteps sounded in her ears as the speaker slowly made his way around her. She studied the visage as it came into view; sparks of familiarity flickered in the back of her mind.
The black, lionesque mane, ever-shifting and dancing on invisible winds, adorned with a silver crown. The deep scarlet eyes, a faint poisonous green glow behind the sclera, glared down at her. The insectoid fangs protruding from the imperious scowl. The curved, blood-red horn. The shadow-black body, clad in silver armor and a long red cape.
For a brief moment, the mare thought that she should have been afraid, but couldn’t remember why, nor summon the effort for the emotion.
“Doctor Glimmer?” he asked in a low, growling voice.
Her lips moved without her command. “Yes, master,” she said in a flat, emotionless tone.
“You and Doctor Sunburst will resume Project Darkstar at once,” the crowned stallion commanded.
“Yes, master,” she repeated, nodding.
“Good,” the stallion nodded, lighting up his horn. The straps were released and the stones puncturing her horn crumbled away to ashes. The mare watched herself stand up and turn towards the door.
Another stallion in a mussed blue uniform like hers was waiting at the doorway, a folder clasped to his chest with the words “SEGRETISSIMO” stamped across it. The orange stallion lit up his horn to adjust his oversized glasses, his cyan eyes blank and emotionless behind the lenses.
“Starlight,” he whispered.
A blinding light filled the room, accompanied by a roar of thunder that filled her ears. Everypony screamed as the walls were disintegrated, crushed like toys beneath a foal’s hoof. Every atom of Starlight’s body was suddenly aflame, her screams washed away by the roaring wind that accompanied the light. The ponies all around her were aflame, writhing in unspeakable agony...Sunburst stumbled toward her, one hoof reaching for her, but in a heartbeat, he and the others were only ashes being blown away in the wind. Starlight stood alone, her screams snatched from her lungs, watching as the flesh on her limbs boiled and burned away to bone…
“Starlight!”
The mare gasped as she woke up, jolting upright on the bedding. She whipped her head back and forth as she took in her surroundings.
The cloth walls around her were decorated with great horned creatures racing through the fields beneath expanses of stars, every thread stitched with great care. She lay upon one of several woven mattresses that were spread across the floor, covered in thick sheets. The remnants of a fire were held in a stone circle in the center of the teepee. Piled in one corner was a collection of bags, with several notebooks and tomes on magic stacked nearby.
Starlight Glimmer exhaled slowly, raising a hoof to brush her mane away from her face as she looked at the mare who had woken her up. The dark orchid mare was dressed in a heavy fur coat, though Starlight could see the black layers of armor beneath it; a tomahawk was secured tight to her hip. The long rose mane was curled around the broken horn, like an old tree stump on her forehead; the opal eyes stared down at Starlight with concern, the scar over her right orbit pale against her skin.
“Shh, it was just a dream,” Tempest Shadow whispered, stroking Starlight’s foreleg.
Starlight swallowed and wiped her eyes. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.” She glanced up at the dreamcatcher over her head, strings decorated with colored stones and eagle feathers dangling from the circular wood. “Maybe I should ask Little Strongheart for a new one,” she commented with a feeble laugh.
Tempest stared at Starlight for a moment as if she wanted to say more, then stood up straight. “If, uh...if you’re sure you’re okay, breakfast is ready,” she said.
“Okay, I’m coming,” Starlight replied, sitting up and brushing her mane back over her eyes. A flash of her horn and her own heavy coat was wrapped over her body and her hooves were shod in beaver-fur boots.
Both mares exited the teepee, gasping as the winter air stung at their faces and their booted hooves sank into the snow. All around them were more teepees, snow clinging to the decorated fabrics. A few straggling buffalo were emerging from their tents, smiling through their yawns, calves dragging their parents from their sleep.
A fire was already crackling in the center of the camp, the smoke rising from it flavored with pancakes and berries. The great shape of Chief Thunderhooves was immediately discernible amidst the circle of buffalo around the campfire, his head adorned with his great feathered warbonnet. The sound of his laughter floated over the morning chatter as his fellow tribe members passed around breakfast and carefully wrapped presents.
Tempest paused outside their teepee and reached into her coat. “I...here,” she mumbled, extracting a small package hastily wrapped in coarse paper.
With a cocked eyebrow, Starlight took the package in her magic and unwrapped it, opening up the top to reveal the contents.
Inside was a small wooden disc, cut from a small tree. Crudely painted upon it were a pair of cutie marks: a purple star with two mint green swirls rising from it like flames, and a bright purple firework blossom in the center of a hurricane shape. The paint was applied unevenly, with splotches where it had dripped down the wood running across the artwork.
Starlight stared at it for a long moment, then looked up at Tempest. The taller unicorn turned away, her cheeks flushing.
“I...Happy Hearth’s Warming,” Tempest mumbled.
Starlight smiled and pocketed the little token. “Thanks, Tempest. I...got you something, too.”
She lit up her horn and summoned the project that she’d been carefully crafting for weeks from its hiding place beneath her bags in the teepee. The vaguely bird-shaped collection of purple fabric and sticks floated over to Tempest’s hoof; the other unicorn stared at it with a cocked head.
“It’s a kite!” Starlight explained. “I thought that the two of us could go kite-flying later. You know I like it and I thought that you could join me this time instead of just staring--”
“This fabric didn’t come from here,” Tempest observed with a frown, plucking at the kite.
“I, uh...may have snuck into Appleloosa to buy it from the general store yesterday morning when you were helping gather firewood,” Starlight admitted with a sheepish chuckle. “Hey, I wanted it to be a surprise, and no offense to Leaping Beaver, but the weaving she makes isn’t quite up to kites, so I needed some better material.”
Tempest scowled at Starlight.
“I was careful!” Starlight protested. “I made sure I wasn’t followed! I just went down to the store and back!”
“Starlight, you know better than to go without me! Or to go into town if you don’t need to!” Tempest snapped at her. “Did you at least use a glamor?”
“Tempest, it’s been almost seven years!” Starlight protested. “If we were going to be found, we would have been found by now!”
“Starlight, the only reason we’re still alive is that we were careful and we kept our guard up!” Tempest replied. “And we can’t lower our guard now! Especially now that…”
She flinched and glanced around, noting the buffalo staring at the arguing duo, then leaned in and whispered. “Now that he’s back.”
A shudder that had nothing to do with the cold ran down Starlight’s spine and her head lowered with shame. “I...I just wanted to make a fun Hearth’s Warming gift for you…” she whispered.
“Is something wrong?” a young tan cow with a single feather in her short mane asked, striding up to the two.
Tempest looked at the buffalo, then at Starlight, then at the kite in her hoof. She let out a soft exhalation, the tension leaving her shoulders.
“No, Little Strongheart,” she said with a reassuring smile. “We’re fine.”
She turned back to Starlight and tilted her chin up, giving her a genuine smile. “Thank you, Starlight. It’s lovely.”
Starlight smiled back at her and let out a little laugh of relief. “Great! So, how about breakfast? I am famished!” she declared, turning and heading towards the campfire. Little Strongheart stared after her, her forehead creased and her face twisted into a frown, but the resuming chatter and laughter from her fellow tribe members quickly persuaded her to abandon her concerns and she returned to the campfire.
Tempest looked down at the kite in her hoof, then turned towards the north. In the distance, she could see the spires of Appleloosa’s city hall and church, glowing in the rising sun. If she strained to listen, she could hear the music and laughter and singing of the townsponies.
Something prickled at the back of her neck and her scowl deepened, one hoof going for the weapons at her side. She stood frozen for a moment, as if listening for a distant hoofstep or snapping twig out of place.
But there was only the crackling of the fire and the warm voices and laughter of their companions. With a sigh, she lowered her hoof and went to join Starlight.
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Ooooh, getting Winter Soldier vibes here.
I'm guessing that explosion was the atomic bomb equestria had to drop on Vanhoover? I think it was Vanhoover anyway. I suppose I'll probably find out in time.
The aftermath of WWII and coldwar paranoia is such a large part of the noire genre, it'll be cool to maybe see more of the lore for the war that shaped this universe. Assuming I'm even on the right track with what you're foreshadowing here.
Also, I never object to some good ol' Glimmer.
11088581
The Crystal Empire dropped the bomb on Vanhoover, not Equestria.
I'm glad that you liked it! I am trying to show a bit more lore in upcoming chapters, so I hope I do not disappoint.
Love it
Oh boy. As someone who’s fiancée loves discussing Captain America: Winter Soldier and poor Bucky, I have a really bad feeling about this.
Also, even though I’ve come to ship tempest, flash, and twilight as an OT3 in recent years, I am down for this bit of shipping and can’t wait to see more.