Here Comes the Rain Again

by A Hoof-ful of Dust

VI - Ophiocordyceps unilateralis

Two ponies stood just within the doorway, their shapes vague silhouettes.

“Wow,” Twilight said to the shapes, “are we glad to finally see somepony else.” She said this in a voice she hoped was loud enough to bring Luna out of sleep. “We’re sorry if this is your house,” she added. Luna began to stir. The two shapes remained motionless.

Luna lit the candle. The light that had been pleasant before became ominous, ghoulish. Twilight recognized one of the ponies; it was Mr. Cake, of Sugarcube Corner. The other was the pony she had chased into the water, a teal mare whose name escaped her. Both wore identical blank expressions.

“Come with us,” Mr. Cake said. Twilight only knew Mr. Cake in passing—Spike was the one who was the more frequent customer at Sugarcube Corner—but his tone was completely unlike his normal friendly demeanor. His voice was flat, toneless. She heard nothing familiar in it at all.

“We have been waiting for you,” said the teal mare in an identical dead voice. She stepped back through the doorway and performed a mechanical about-face. Luna and Twilight were obviously expected to travel in file between them. Something about that nagged in Twilight’s mind.

“Do we follow?” asked Luna, getting to her feet. Twilight watched her inspect Mr. Cake as she stood, finding him as false as she did. If Mr. Cake noticed, he gave no indication.

“I think we should,” Twilight said, edging to the side of the bed. “We’re likely to be going to the same place we were headed.” She climbed on Luna’s back, careful not to stand on her bad leg.

“Is this true? Do you plan to lead us to the giant tree?” Luna asked Mr. Cake. Again, he remained still, his blank eyes focused intently on a spot on the wall behind Luna.

“I didn’t think we’d get an answer,” Twilight said in a low voice into Luna’s ear. “They’re not exactly… normal.”

Luna took her place between the teal mare and Mr. Cake. Twilight wrapped a leg around Luna’s neck, ready to hold fast if she suddenly needed to bolt.

They descended the stairs of the abandoned house in a column. The teal mare pushed aside the couch Luna had placed against the front door with surprisingly little effort. Twilight wondered for a moment how the two ponies had come in the house. Perhaps they had broken a window? It was possible she and Luna could have slept through that, but the image that came to mind was Mr. Cake opening the back door and pushing aside whatever piece of furniture Luna had put there to keep out timberwolves and other menaces with similar freakish strength. It was disturbingly convincing, and she wanted desperately to find some other explanation that fit better.

Then she saw it. As the teal mare bent to open the door, her mane shifted, revealing a growth on the back of her neck. It was smooth and orange, the same shade as the orange trumpet flowers all over the jungle. The same growth that had been on the back of the ant she had seen on the library door, the last time the sun had been in the sky.

As they marched away from the house in a neat line, something else fell into place for Twilight. Ants travel in columns, too.

“Luna,” Twilight whispered, hoping there was enough distance between them and their two escorts for her words to not be overheard. “That pony—”

“I see it,” Luna murmured.

They walked down what was once the main street of Ponyville. The houses were unrecognizable, looking more like great stones covered in moss. The ground, unlike everywhere else they had seen, was clear of twisting roots, covered only in a light layer of fallen leaves. The natural path seemed to continue in a straight line for some distance, though it was difficult to see clearly in the dark. She turned her eyes upward, looking for the giant tree, but saw only a low layer of branches from the surrounding trees.

The rows of houses ended and were replaced completely by jungle. In Ponyville in its natural state, there was a curved road that led around Sweet Apple Acres and ended near Fluttershy’s cottage at the edge of the Everfree Forest, but that path seemed to have been discarded completely in favor of a more direct route. Their clear passage took them through what would have once been apple orchards, but in place of apple trees gnarled and curled invaders grew. Twilight couldn’t tell where the Apple’s farm ended and the Everfree Forest began. But really, hadn’t they been in the Everfree Forest all along?

They continued in silence down the path, until something that looked like a wall blocking their way loomed in the distance. As they got closer, Twilight realized it was the giant tree, its bark warped and unrecognizable as belonging to any kind of foliage she knew. But something else was strange about it, too. If this was a tree, where were its roots? It was huge, easily as tall as Canterlot Tower and more than double the tower’s width; it should have sunk roots into the ground thick enough to turn the surrounding area into a small hill. If all the other new trees she and Luna had seen along their journey were any indication, it might have pushed roots far out enough to collapse some of the houses in Ponyville from underneath. So where were its roots?

A rough entryway opened in the side of the massive structure before them, lit with a glow that reminded Twilight of the luminescent chamber where she and Luna had been unable to find the source. It disappeared into the tree (if it was a tree). Mr. Cake and the teal mare stood flanking the entrance, staring their vacant stares.

“Proceed,” they said in unison.

Luna stepped past them, eying the teal mare who continued to gaze out into the darkness they had come from. The passage was lit from the inside by that same ethereal light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. It was enough to see clearly by, but the passage curved sharply, making it difficult to see for any distance even if they had been in full daylight.

“I suspect,” Luna said once they were around the bend and away from their guards, “this not to be a tree at all.”

“Me too. It’s not—” Twilight broke off, because in that instant it had all come to her. The glowing. The lack of roots. The unnatural texture the “bark” had taken. In her mind’s eye, she was back in the Princess’ bedchambers. In the distance, the towering shape had resembled a tree, but that was mainly because of its size and the influence of all the surrounding forest, but what it really looked like, what it really was…

“It’s a mushroom,” Twilight breathed. “It’s not a tree at all. It’s a mushroom.”

“A wholly unnatural one,” Luna commented. “This did not come into being by chance.” She glanced back at Twilight. “Consider ants. Consider the behavior of our escorts. Does it not remind you of—”

“A colony,” Twilight finished. “A hive.”

“Yes. Is it possible the reason we have seen no other ponies is that they have been here, laboring to construct this edifice?”

It made a horrible sort of sense. “But,” Twilight said, “what’s it for? And…” She swallowed. “Why aren’t we helping build it, too?”

“That,” Luna said with resolve, “is what we are here to discover.”

The passage wound in one long curve, spiraling up the stem of the enormous mushroom. Twilight could not have said how many times they had walked in a circle, climbing up slightly higher each time. The monotonous nature of the passage, combined with the faintly pulsing light, made her lose all sense of time and direction. She studied the passing walls, hoping for some distinguishing feature she could use it mark their passage.

When she found it, she immediately wished she had never taken her eyes from Luna’s mane.

“Gah!” she exclaimed, nearly falling from Luna’s back.

Luna froze in place. “What is it?”

“There,” Twilight said, pointing to the wall. In a neat alcove, nestled tightly among a cluster of glowing mushrooms, was a pony. Twilight recognized her immediately; it was Cheerilee, the schoolteacher. Although her eyes were open, they contained none of the intensity that Mr. Cake or the teal mare had. Her head was slightly lowered, her body limp. Twilight would have been sure she was dead, had she not noticed her taking shallow breaths in time with the pulsing of the surrounding mushrooms.

Twilight also noticed the smooth orange growth on her neck.

“Cheerilee?” Twilight asked, not expecting a reply but hoping for one. She reached out and touched her cheek; it was cool and clammy. “Cheerilee?”

“Twilight,” Luna said softly, “I do not think she will respond.”

“No,” Twilight said, “I know. I just…” She trailed off, unable to find words for exactly what she wanted to happen.

“I know.”

“She was a friend,” Twilight said, and then immediately corrected herself: “Is a friend.”

“Let us save her,” Luna said. She was looking back at Twilight with a solemn expression.

“Yeah.” Twilight squared her jaw. “Let’s do that.”

Another alcove was next to Cheerilee’s. Twilight recognized Filthy Rich, wearing the same distant gaze as if he were viewing something happening a million miles away. Twilight hoped that was the case. They looked like they could have been asleep with their eyes open. Perhaps they were dreaming, dreaming of an Equestria covered in sun and not dark jungle. After Filthy Rich came Time Turner, and after him was Granny Smith, and after that Twilight avoided looking.

On and on the spiral passage went. Twilight wanted to find something to speak to Luna about, but nothing about this place inspired any sort of distracting conversation. She tried to turn her mind to the things she was going to do when everything was set right, and found it was impossible to imagine anything outside the pulsing winding path up the core of the great mushroom. She counted Luna’s hoof-falls on the soft path, the beat creating a wordless marching tune of the most simplistic variety. One two three four, one two three four, one two three four…

After what seemed like an eternity, the curved passageway straightened out. Luna stopped. Twilight, who had been close to dozing with nothing to fix her mind on, suddenly felt completely alert.

“Are you ready?” Luna asked.

“I am,” Twilight said. “Are you?”

“I am prepared to face anything.”

“What do you think’s up there?”

“Anything,” Luna said.

Twilight took a deep breath, and said, “Let’s go.”

Luna marched up the straight incline and into an open chamber. It was huge, the base curving slightly and the walls shrouded in the distance by a hazy fog that filled the whole area. Suspended in the roof of the chamber, hanging from a network of vines, was a violently orange spongy mass, throbbing in unison with the glow in the chamber. It looked like a giant diseased heart. The floor was covered with the plants with the leathery leaves, their trumpet flowers swaying in an invisible breeze in unison. In worship.

Standing in the chamber beneath the massive orange fungus were three figures. In the center was the zebra Zecora. To her left, the diminutive form of Apple Bloom, her bow nearly the same shade of orange as the fungus in the low light; to her right, her wings folded, her crown askew from the orange growth on her temple, was Princess Celestia.

Luna approached them slowly, cautiously. It was Zecora who spoke first.

“Two ponies we have waited to see,” she said, “at last you come to speak with us.”

Zecora sounded more like herself, but the missing rhyme was like a sour note to Twilight’s ears. She wanted to say “speak with me”, she thought, and an uncomfortable chill ran up her back.

“Our faithful student,” Princess Celestia intoned, “our beloved sister.”

“You are not my sister,” Luna said. Twilight heard it too. She couldn’t describe exactly what was wrong with the Princess’ voice, but something was wrong. It reminded her of a mimic performing an imitation. It reminded her of a puppeteer with a wooden pony doll.

“That’s mean,” Apple Bloom said, though her voice and her face showed no sign that she thought it was.

“What are you?” Twilight asked, ignoring Apple Bloom. Her eyes were fixed on the hanging fungus.

“An Equestrian citizen,” said Zecora, “wanting to be free again.”

“Free from what?”

“The forest,” Apple Bloom said in a blank tone.

“Free from ourselves,” Princess Celestia said. “We have only had ourselves for company for so very long. Only ourselves to speak to, only ourselves to plan with.”

“We were lonely,” Apple Bloom said.

“We were trapped,” Princess Celestia, overlapping Apple Bloom.

“We have been imprisoned eternally within the forest Everfree,” finished Zecora.

“What are you?” Twilight asked again, although she was beginning to suspect the answer.

“We are in the plants,” Princess Celestia said, “we are in the animals. First the insects, which carried our spores, then in the mammals. We are everywhere.”

“We are here,” Apple Bloom said. The trio lifted their eyes to the orange fungus, then lowered them in a single synchronized action.

“We have planned our escape since we freed ourselves from a cage of stone and wards,” said Princess Celestia.

“Cage of… the castle?” Luna asked.

“The magic that bound us would not be used a second time,” Celestia continued, ignoring Luna. “We grew. We changed. We drew from it to make ourselves strong. Now, it feeds us. Where we are, there can be no magic. Now it is us who are the cage.”

“You planned this,” Twilight exhaled, awestruck, “for over a thousand years.”

“We are patient,” Apple Bloom said.

“One thousand years to adapt,” Zecora said, “ten thousand with our world back.”

Ten thousand?, thought Twilight, unable to comprehend the span of time Equestria had lain dormant. TEN thousand?

“We covered the world. We spread to all places. We had freedom. We built this grand monument,” Celestia said, “but we were still alone. We were still only us.”

“But then we found you,” said Apple Bloom.

“You differ from plants and insects. You are like us.” Celestia’s neutral tone somehow made the statement more horrifying.

“We are nothing like you,” Luna declared, taking a step back.

“You think. You dream. You remember. We plan. We grow. We remember.”

“We didn’t understand one thing about you,” added Apple Bloom.

“You are many. We are one,” said Celestia. “You require connections of friendship to be one like us. You place so much importance on these connections.”

“We wanted to understand.”

“So we woke you, faithful student Twilight Sparkle and beloved sister Luna, to observe you.”

“To see the connections for ourselves.”

“To see if we needed to grow and change and adapt to have them too.”

This was too much. Equestria had been put to sleep for centuries by an intelligent parasite mushroom, and now it wanted to make friends?

“So,” Twilight asked with some hesitance, “do you need these connections?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Apple Bloom.

“Yes,” echoed Princess Celestia.

“Our new growth will come in a rush,” said Zecora, “with both of you to teach us.”

“We will re-enter you, and you will teach us,” said Celestia.

Twilight’s ears stood up. “Re-enter?”

“You must come back to us,” Apple Bloom said.

“You must explain to us,” said Celestia.

“We will teach you everything if you do.”

“The memories of all the others will be yours if you do. Every thought. Everything they have ever learned.”

Twilight imagined herself as one of the blank drones, her eyes glazed over. Is that what would happen, if the fungus was to “re-enter” her? Were all the other ponies connected like that, some sort of singular mind held in a continual dream, their thoughts misunderstood by the watching fungus?

“No,” she said, disgusted at the idea of losing herself in that way.

“You cannot!” cried Celestia.

“You must!” shouted Apple Bloom.

“No,” Twilight repeated.

“Then you, beloved sister,” Celestia said. “When you return to us, you will have nothing to fear.”

Luna was silent for a long moment, and for one terrible second before she spoke Twilight heard in her mind Luna saying “I accept”.

What she said instead was: “I will never, you abomination.”

“Sad,” said Apple Bloom.

“Regrettable,” said Celestia.

“You will rejoin in due course,” said Zecora. “We will make you come by force.”

The orange growths on Zecora, Apple Bloom, and Princess Celestia burst open, spraying a fine red mist into the air.

“Don’t breathe!” shouted Luna, and she turned and ran.

Twilight clamped her mouth shut and held on. The giant fungus gave a mighty lurch, and more of the red mist started flooding the chamber. Within seconds everywhere became dark, impossible to see through the cloud of spores. Luna galloped in a haphazard pattern, unable to find her way. Twilight looked around frantically, unable to make anything out.

Except.

Except a shining sliver of light, cutting through the fog. It was not part of the faint glow from inside the mushroom; it was a piercing, pure white.

“There!” Twilight took a chance shouting, willing none of the spores to take hold in her. She pointed with one hoof, the other wrapped tight around Luna’s neck. “Keep running! Don’t stop!”

She had a brief moment of mad calm to consider what might happen if she was wrong in her wild guess, and then Luna crashed through the thin spot in the edge of the rim of the mushroom, charging out into the pure pale moonlight, and fell into nothingness.

Comments

[Nebula1701]

wow!

[Csquared08]

This is... This is something. Hard to believe there's only one chapter left, though. Looking forward to the ending!