//------------------------------// // Chapter 42: Forgotten Folklore in G # minor. // Story: Beethoven's Tenth // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// “Twilight!” Spike yelled as he carried a large and rather heavy box into the library. “The new books are here!” A flash later, the librarian appeared on the ground floor. “Oh good,” she lit up her horn to open up the box and take out its contents. “Let’s see what we have this month.” Floating the books around her, she looked through the title and genera of each volume. “Six Autobiographies; four horror stories; twelve science fiction; three history books; four comedies; a foal’s spell book; two cookbooks; and… what’s this?” She paused at the last book to be pulled out the box. It wasn’t very thick, nor did seem very old, but the title of it got the alicorn’s attention. “Forgotten Folklore by Occulta Scroll,” she read the title aloud. “I don’t think I’ve heard of this book before, have you?” Her assistant shrugged while setting the box aside. “Beats me, I don’t think I’ve heard the author’s name until now. Maybe it’s somepony new.” Twilight flipped open to the first few pages, “It looks like it was published a couple years ago. Maybe this is one of those rare books or something. Still, I think this will be an interesting quick read, it’ only… less than a hundred pages.” “You wanna go read that?” Spike asked. “I can sign the rest of these into the system and put them away.” “Don’t you have to be at piano lessons with Ms. Melody this afternoon?” “It’s only ten; I can do this by myself and be out in no time. So I’ll take care of this.” “Thank you, Spike, I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” After heading upstairs, and choosing a record for background music, putting on the phonograph to play as she reads, she hopped onto the bed with the book in her aura. “Okay, what’s new with you,” she muttered as she flipped open to the table of contents. Upon first glance, the chapters contained in the book seemed to hold little-known tales that Twilight had seen at least once or twice before. However, there were a few titles that piqued her interests such as, “Tale of the Lost Village,” “Tale of the Moonflower,” “Tale of the Underground Princess.” But among all of these titles, one caught her eye. It was so peculiar, that she had to flip to the chapter and started reading as the cello and piano sang softly from her phonograph. Chapter 17: Tale of the Shadow Ponies Out of all the tales of local stories of bizarre creatures, ghosts, and mysterious disappearances, perhaps none could come close to the elusiveness as the beings known as Shadow Ponies. The origin or creation of these stories is unknown since the tales of these creatures are only told by oral tradition. Yet, despite being told in certain places in the world, what makes this so fascinating is the fact that regardless of the culture, time period, or even who it involves, the description and activities of the Shadow Ponies are eerily identical. Description of the creature characteristics are, as follows: It’s a shapeshifter in which it usually takes on the form closest to its host in order to follow it. Often has two, piercing white eyes. It is capable of speaking several languages while having the voice of, “many speaking at once.” And it always asks something priceless in exchange. However, the exact nature of Shadow Ponies is not exactly clear. Nopony knows if they are spirits, poltergeists, or demons – nor does anypony know of what purpose do they serve. Perhaps the oldest tale of the Shadow Pony in the world probably belongs to the Griffonstone locals. While it took a good deal of convincing and time to record folklore, one interesting story stood out from an old Gryphon named Grandpa Gruff recalled this ghost story. “You ever wonder why we Gryphons never go outside alone at night. No, it has nothing to do with sleep, ya idiot, the real reason is very serious. Have you heard the story of the Prince that had two shadows? I could tell ya for a couple of bits. “Thanks. Anyway, it started long ago by several centuries give or take, during the reign of Reefred the Valiant, his son, Prince Carter went out on a hunting trip into the mountains with an entourage. The Prince left Griffonstone with excitement and determination, but four days and three nights later, only he returned. Carter was so shaken by fright, that when he was asked what happened to him and his hunting party, he would become stricken by fear. But rumor has it that on that day he returned, he brought with him something else. “It was then that gryphons started to disappear, one by one. Some of them were pesky nobles, others were poets and painters, and some no one has heard of vanished into the night. Oh sure, there were searches, but no matter where they looked, it was as if they disappeared like this mountain mist. “But as for the Prince, his behavior started to change. Day or night, he would carry a candelabra ever where he went, even when he was sleeping, he ordered that his fireplace is kept burning ‘til dawn. Paranoia filled his mind, as he swore that ever so often, that he would see a shadow that wasn’t there. “Then evening, a servant was summoned to his bedchamber to bring him his wine. When he got there, he found the Prince sitting by the fire. It was the only light in the room, but what bewildered the servant, was that right behind Prince Carter, he had two shadows. But what frightened him the most, according to legend, one of those shadows grew white eyes, looking at him. “The servant screamed and tries to flee from the chamber. When the Prince took notice of this, he took notice that his second shadow leaps across the room and slithered into the dark hallway. And then, from the servant’s screams… silence. He was never seen again after that. “Feeling responsible, he finally confessed to his father that he had made a terrible deal with this creature of shadows. On that hunting trip, his party was ambushed by the creature. The Shadow demanded of the Prince to give him the Idol of Boras that, if he refuses, then each night until he dies, a random gryphon from the kingdom shall be taken away. But the Prince could not give up an important national treasure up to the creature, yet, at the same time, he fears that the next to be taken, might be the King himself. “What happened next, or how between the Prince and the King is unknown. But by the dawn of the next morning, the kingdom found the Prince’s body hanging by the neck, off on the edge of the balcony. It is said that when the light hit upon the body, a second shadow could have been seen running away into the darkness.” Hundreds of years later in Southern Prance, near the town of Auvers-sur-Oise, there is a local legend involving the now famous painter, Vineigh van Gogh. It is said that the week before his suicide in July of 890, the painter had come back to his tiny home shaken. The Landlord noticed that he didn’t come back with a painting and asked why. What the Artist told him was dismissed as ravings of a lunatic. The story went something like this: On a sunny day when the painter took his paints, brushes, and canvas into the hot fields alone, van Gogh said that he had a feeling that he was being followed. Then about two or three miles from the town, he said that the sky turned dark until he couldn’t see where he was going. Then he felt a hoof on his shoulder and a voice that told him that he was needed to paint a masterpiece. At this point, Twilight did a double take as she read on. Frighten, van Gogh demanded who was talking to him, in which the light came back. Only, as he claims, he wasn’t in Prance – but in a completely different world entirely. The details are lost to time, but as the story goes, he did find something that frightens him. A shadow of a pony with two white, cold eyes that has a simple, but difficult request; it told van Gogh was to paint the weird landscape for it in under an hour. When he tried to refuse, the shadow threatens physical violence and further stated that if he refuses or doesn’t complete the painting on time, it would have left him there. So faced with no choice, the painter began work immediately. All the while, the creature stood closely by, watching him paint frantically. When van Gogh was done, the shadow pony was pleased with the result and took him back to Prance as he was. Before the shadow slithered away, he asked one more time why did it want a painting from him. The creature simply replied, “I have made a covenant.” However, given his mental condition in his later years, it could be interpreted that the artist was simply hallucinating. Yet, his story fitted precisely with the description of Shadow Ponies perfectly. At this point, Twilight had enough of reading. Fetching her scarf, boots, and earmuffs, she rushed down the stairs. “Where are goin’?” Spike asked. “I need to find Mr. Beethoven. This has happened before!” _*_ Ludwig looked up from the book to Twilight, “So this has happened before?” Twilight nodded as she held up the scroll. She tried to keep it steady as there was a wind in the alleyway. “It would appear so. I honestly have never heard of ‘Shadow Ponies,’ until I received that book this morning. Heck, I didn’t even know that the book existed.” Beethoven flipped through the pages of the book, taking notice of the sketches of a shadow in the corner that, although in pony form, it too had the same eyes. “If this was true, then what would these creatures need of me to write a symphony? This book says that these shadows want treasures, but why? What does a shadow need painting or an Idol for? Be spirits or devils, they wouldn’t care for such items that belong to the living.” “I would be lying if I said that I haven’t thought of that,” Twilight remarked as she held the scroll up. “But regardless, I do think that this for me could be the key in figuring out what brought you here and why. Though I can’t say that I would have much success, since I never heard of these creatures before until you and that book showed up, however, I will try to look into as many resources as I can to see if there’s an overarching common thread.” Ludwig closed the book and hand it over to the lilac alicorn, “Since you are here, and I am getting closer to finishing my tenth, I do have a request from you.” “I’m listening.” “I need the finished movements to be copied. If that creature is going to steal my music from my world, at least I can die with the thought that somewhere, my masterpiece is safe. More importantly, I want the printed copies to be locked up until after the performance of the ninth.” Twilight hummed in thought, adjusting her scarf, she told him, “I think that can be arranged. I’ll have some copyists to record your manuscripts for us to approve. And once they are, I’ll have a final copy in a vault that’s in the basement of the library where only Spike and I know how to open it.” “At least, in the end, I would have an advantage from the creature,” Ludwig said. “I must be going. There’s a new place that’s opened and I want to have lunch there. Do you wish to come?” “No thank you, I have research to look into.” “Very well,” Beethoven said before he spat at his own shadow. “Keep warm, Princess,” the giant exited the alleyway into the biting blizzard.