//------------------------------// // Act I: The Company // Story: The World is Filled with Monsters // by Cold in Gardez //------------------------------// “Hollow Shades?” Vermilion set his forelegs on the table and leaned over the map. “Never heard of it.” “It’s, um…” Cloud Fire jumped up onto the table to see the map and its pieces better. His wings stirred a gentle breeze that fluttered tiny paper notes weighed down with pewter emblems. He stepped over mountains and followed a river eastward with his nose. “I think it’s here, at this fork.” Vermilion peered at the spot as best he could – if he jumped up on the table to join his friend it would collapse beneath their combined weight, and besides it was against the rules to stand on the map tables. Pegasi got away with it because they were pegasi and couldn’t help themselves, but earth pony troops were expected to show more discipline. So instead Vermilion found the nearest stool, pushed it up against the table, and climbed up for a better look. There wasn’t much to see. Hollow Shades was only a town in the most charitable sense of the word. As far as the Royal Cartography Association was concerned, it didn’t even merit a name. Instead, some artist had sketched a vague impression of a cluster of cottages and a small black dot where two rivers merged. All around it was unbroken forest that flowed west to Equestria’s borders and east into a foggy, undifferentiated gray simply marked ‘unknown.’ What might have been a road snaked its way beside the river on a long journey south. “That’s…” Vermilion frowned at the map, searching for the right word. “Lonely. It looks very lonely. Why would anypony live out there?” Cloud Fire shrugged and stepped around the forest, careful not to knock over any of the unit pieces. Sergeant Buckeye had spent hours painstakingly assembling the map that morning, and they both knew he wouldn’t be happy to return and see any part of it dislodged. And he would know – Buckeye had an almost psychic sense for paperwork, maps included. It made cheating on their leave forms difficult. “You know how you earth ponies are,” Cloud Fire said. “They live somewhere and that’s their land, and the Sisters themselves can’t make them leave. No offense.” None taken – it was true, after all. His family was enough proof of that. Vermilion traced the road’s path with his eyes, from Hollow Shades to the nearest Equestrian town, a tiny little outpost with the uplifting name of Gloom’s Edge. Hopefully Gloom was the pony who founded the place rather than an attempt at description. Oh, no; apparently ‘The Creeping Gloom’ was the name of the adjacent, enormous forest. A few elaborate unicorn runes filled in the spaces among the trees. Vermilion couldn’t read them all, but he understood the ones for danger and darkness. “This seems like a really fun place they’re sending us to,” he said. Cloud Fire snorted. “You didn’t join the Guard to have fun, did you?” “Uh.” The question recalled a memory, of standing in the mud in the middle of his parent’s carrot fields, watching a column of armored ponies marching past on the road. Their armor, dusty as it was, gleamed in the afternoon sun. They weren’t bent double, replanting muddy carrots with their mouths. They weren’t concerned with market rates for produce, or emerald bollweavils eating their crops. They had places to go and things to do. Things that mattered. “Well, kind of, yeah,” he said. “It beats farming.” “I can only assume that anything, in fact, would beat farming.” Cloud Fire jumped off the table, landing soundlessly beside him. “But more seriously, the Guard’s not supposed to be fun. If it were fun, everypony would want to do it.” “I guess that’s true.” Vermilion tried to gauge distances on the map, but the forest was so large it defied scale. Months out there? He let out a long breath at the thought. Not even inside Equestria. They were leaving their own country! “I’ve never been that far from the capital.” “I doubt many ponies in the company have. This place is pretty out there.” Cloud Fire glanced at him. “Hey, you’re not worried, are you?” “Not worried, just…” Vermilion chewed on his lip before continuing. Months ago – hell, an hourago – the idea of a campaign was the greatest thing in his life, a promise of glory and heroism. But now… That little dot on the map, that little spot of ink, filled him with a nameless unease. So far away from everything he knew. “Okay, maybe a little. I just don’t want to mess up, you know? Get somepony hurt?” Cloud Fire bumped him with his shoulder. “Don’t stress about that. No one expects a private on his first campaign to save the world. Besides, you’ve got a great role model – just do what I do and you’ll be fine.” Cloudy may have been Vermilion’s closest friend in the unit, but he wasn’t sure the other sergeants would endorse that course of action. “Very inspiring. You should make a career out of this leadership thing.” “See, joking? That’s good. It shows you’re not too worried.” Cloud Fire crossed the room to retrieve his saddlebags from his locker. “Listen though, seriously. This is just a normal patrol. They’re not sending us out to fight monsters or anything.” Monsters? Who brought up monsters? Vermilion certainly hadn’t. He looked back at the map and its runes, frowned, and was about to ask for clarification on that matter when the barracks door swung open. An earth pony the same color and approximate shape as a brick strode through. “Grab your gear, fillies,” Sergeant Buckeye thundered. He spoke in a constant shout that didn’t appear voluntary. At least, Vermilion had never heard him whisper. “Formation in five minutes. Git!” * * * The entire company assembled in the courtyard. As befitted their lowly rank, Vermilion and Cloud Fire had spots in the front rows, presumably so the officers could watch them more closely. Or maybe it was just that they were shorter, so the ponies behind them could see more easily. It was another little mystery Vermilion never found the courage to ask about. The commander hadn’t arrived yet, and they were free to murmur among themselves as long as they weren’t too loud. The combined conversations of fifty-some ponies generated a quiet, soothing rumble. Sergeant Buckeye crossed in front of them, inspected their equipment with a practiced eye and moved on with a silent nod. Vermilion waited for him to pass before leaning toward Cloud Fire. “Hey, when you said ‘monsters’ back there, what was that about?” “Huh?” Cloud Fire turned away from a pale-coated pegasus mare he’d been flirting with. “Oh, relax. They wouldn’t send us to fight monsters.” “So what are we doing, then?” “Same as the last deployment, probably. We just stood around, showing the flag to let ponies know they’re safe. Not fighting monsters, of course. Nopony gets to do that anymore unless they’re in some kind of special unit.” Vermilion nodded. He was happy not being part of a special unit. Special, in his experience, was a synonym for risk, and going to a town called Hollow Shades in the middle of a forest called The Creeping Gloom was more than enough adventure for one lifetime. Hell, just joining the Guard had already given him a more exciting life than most of his immediate, carrot-farming family. There was a commotion across the courtyard, and Vermilion caught the gold gleam of the commander’s armor. Conversations ceased, and the company clattered to attention. Major Canopy was small for a pegasus, which was saying something. If he’d run into her on the street, Vermilion might have thought she was the same age as his little sister. But one glance in her eyes – steely, hard – dispelled any notion of foalishness about her, and ponies who underestimated her strength or skill at arms were in for a rude shock. He’d watched her once, as part of a demonstration, drop a spear from nearly a thousand feet overhead. She was little more than a green dot at that altitude, partially hidden by the clouds, but her spear fell with unfathomable precision and struck a wood barrel they’d set out as a target with the force of a meteor. Splinters of wood landed hundreds of feet away. Some pegasi had trouble being taken seriously. Major Canopy was not one of them. She stopped a few paces from the front of the formation and stood at attention. Aside from the flutter of her feathers in the wind, she might as well have been a statue. She held the position for the requisite three seconds, then barked out, “At ease!” The formation shuffled again as muscles relaxed and ponies exhaled. Nopony spoke, though; the major still had the floor. “You’ve probably all heard about our upcoming movement to Hollow Shades,” she said. Her voice was always quieter than the other officers’, and they strained their ears forward to hear. “I know it’s an unusual assignment, well outside our borders, but the ponies in the region have petitioned the crown for assistance against some threats from the forest. We’re being sent as part of a good-will gesture, and it’s been suggested that if this mission goes well, the ponies of Hollow Shades may formally request to be annexed into Equestria. Mares and gentlestallions, we’re not just being asked to help a town in need – we’re part of the first effort to expand the kingdom in generations.” She paused to let that sink in. The company, normally so disciplined, began to chatter quietly, then louder when neither the major nor the other officers interrupted. Cloud Fire wore a huge grin and danced on the tips of his hooves. Vermilion forced a smile. It would have been rude not to. The major let them go for a few more seconds, then cleared her throat. When the assembly grew silent, she continued, “We’re leaving in three days. Those of you with family in Everfree may visit them; unfortunately we don’t have time to authorize leave for ponies with families outside the city. You’ll have plenty of time to visit them after we get back.” Buckeye raised a hoof, and when the major nodded, he spoke. “Ma’am, how long are we expected to stay out there?” “Good question. Initial plan is three months. If things are still going well at that point, we’ll rotate out with another unit. If things go poorly, I assume the town will rescind its invitation and we’ll be asked to leave.” She paused to look up at the sky. As if by instinct, the other pegasi in the formation looked up with her. Slate gray clouds hung low over the city, heavy with the promise of the coming winter. “Assuming the snows hold for another few weeks, we should make good time getting there,” she continued. “I don’t know what the roads will be like in early spring when we return, but they’ll be slower. That’s something we’ll just have to play by ear. Other questions?” Somepony shouted from the back, “What did the town ask for help with? Why do they need the Guard?” Canopy nodded slowly. “The request from Hollow Shades was not as detailed as we would have liked, but it did provide some information about the threat. A few villagers have gone missing under… mysterious circumstances. Your squad leaders have the full briefing books and will fill you in on the details. Given the sensitive nature of our relations with Hollow Shades, please do not share anything in those books with your families. Tell them you’re going on a routine patrol. Anything else?” That pause, that brief hesitance in the major’s answer, that caught Vermilion’s ear. The others must have heard it as well, and any second now somepony braver than he would raise their hoof or shout to ask for more— “Nothing heard,” Canopy said. She snapped to attention, and the rest of the formation echoed her a second later. “Your sergeants will brief you on the full mission plan and final training checks. You’ll also get a familiarization briefing on certain monster types that command feels might be important for this assignment. Sergeants, take control of your squads. Dismissed.” The major stepped back, and the formation dissolved into a gaggle of ponies streaming toward the exits. They chattered loudly, now; a physical energy burned within them like a fuse. For the first time in months they had a real assignment. This was what they’d joined the Guard to do. Most of them, anyway. Vermilion remained frozen on his hooves. Cloud Fire was not frozen. He vibrated, his voice shaking with excitement. “Did you hear that, Cherry? This is for real! Not just some stupid march to nowhere so we can camp in the mud! We’re actually going out to help ponies!” Which was part of the problem. “She said monsters, Cloudy. They’re briefing us on monsters.” “Oh, that.” Cloud Fire rolled his eyes. “Are you worried about that? It’s not for, like, real monsters. Nopony fights monsters anymore.” “You think they’re fake monsters?” “No, look,” Cloud Fire said, sidling up beside Vermilion and laying a wing on his back. “Okay, ‘Monster’ is just a technical term. Like, you know how every square is technically a rectangle, but nopony calls squares rectangles, right? They call them squares, because even though squares are technically rectangles, they really aren’t. It’s like that.” Vermilion thought about that for a moment. “What?” Cloudy sighed. “You’re thinking about it too much. Let’s just get to the briefing, okay?” * * * “Alright, we got everypony?” Buckeye made a quick show of counting noses, then opened the briefing book on the map table. “Gather around, fillies. Now, we’ve got a lot of material to cover, but—Cloud Fire, get off the damn table.” “Sorry, sergeant.” “We’ve got a lot of material to cover, but I know what you all want to hear about first so we’ll just skip to it.” Buckeye stepped to the side, allowing a pale-green unicorn mare to step up to the table. Not much besides her mane was visible above the tabletop until Buckeye found a stool for her to stand on. “This is Special Agent Quicklime, from Royal Intelligence,” he said. “She’ll brief us on these alleged monsters. Go ahead, ma’am.” “Thank you sergeant, I’ll be quick.” She spoke with a perky smile and enthusiasm that Vermilion more closely associated with foalsitters. “Okay, ponies, we’re going to talk about one of my favorite subjects today. Monsters! “Now, a lot of what we’ll be talking about is based on existing research into The Creeping Gloom, rather than more recent reports from Hollow Shades,” she continued. “The letters we received from Hollow Shades were unfortunately brief and lacking in detail. As best we can tell, several ponies who attempted to travel through the woods outside town after daylight hours have vanished. The locals put together a search party after a foal went missing, and the party itself was attacked by, and I’m quoting here, A monstrous shadow, horrid to behold, with fel breath and wicked countenance that put our party to flight. Now, if you unpack that and ask yourself, ‘Quicklime, what kind of monsters live in The Creeping Gloom that love the dark, attack ponies, and smell terrible?’ Well, there’s really only one answer!” She stopped and beamed at them. They waited. Finally, Buckeye cleared his throat. “And what would that be, ma’am?” “Spiders!” The word exploded out of her. “Giant spiders, I mean. Maybe. Hopefully.” Every word in that response was a problem, each for a different reason. Apparently the eleven other ponies in the squad had the same thought, because the silence became a babble as soon as Quicklime finished speaking. Finally, Buckeye managed to shout them down and restore order. “Enough! You’ll all get your damn questions answered.” He pointed at the pegasus mare attempting to climb up on Vermilion’s shoulders for a better view of the map. “Zephyr, go.” “Uh, yeah,” she said. “What do you mean by spiders?” “Um.” Quicklime blinked. “They’re technically known as arachnids, and they’re a diverse group of eight-legged invertebrates found in almost every geographic—” “She means ‘giant’ spiders, ma’am,” Buckeye said. “What do you mean by giant spiders?” “Oh!” The smile returned, and Quicklime threw out her forelegs as if asking for a hug. “They’re big! Much bigger than normal spiders.” “Like, the size of a cat?” Cloud Fire asked. “That would be pretty big for a spider.” “Hm.” Quicklime scrunched up her muzzle, apparently in deep thought. “I guess cats could get that big, sure.” There was another pause. Vermilion used it to ponder the Royal Intelligence Service’s supernatural ability to gather information, and then fail to communicate it to anypony outside of the Royal Intelligence Service. “Compared with a pony such as myself, how big would you say these spiders are?” Buckeye finally asked. Quicklime craned her head back to look up at him. “Oh, huge. Like, way bigger than you are.” And there it was, that nervous feeling that had lurked in the back of Vermilion’s mind all morning. It grew into something more urgent, a sick feeling that lodged in his guts and buzzed like wasps. “Ma’am,” he said. “Why are you hopeful that it’s a giant spider?” “Obviously, I would like my analysis to be confirmed. But also it bodes well for your mission. Giant spiders, although frightening, usually aren’t difficult for organized ponies to deal with.” Her horn glowed, and the first page of the thick binder flipped over. “Now, we don’t know much about giant spiders life cycles, so take all of this with a grain of salt. Oh, and feel free to interrupt at any time. I like to think of these briefings as dialogues, not monologues! Any questions yet? No? Okay, we’ll start with their eggs, then. We think giant spiders lay eggs…” * * * “She said she was going to be quick,” Cloud Fire mumbled. He had a dazed expression on his face, like somepony who’d just had a particularly haunting experience with a toilet. “That wasn’t quick at all.” “You have no patience,” Vermilion said. He shuffled along the line in the chow hall and set his tray on the serving bar, where an earth pony cook gave him a sizable portion of stew and two large slabs of cornbread, brown from the oven and sizzling with butter. “Seriously, she just briefed us on giant spiders living in a dark forest that we’re about to go fight, and you’re annoyed that she spoke too long?” “Aren’t you?” He got the same stew and a square of salted herring instead of cornbread. After a pleading look, the cook forked over a second piece of fish. “No, it was useful information.” Vermilion led them to a half-filled table where some of their squadmates were already eating. He bumped Zephyr’s shoulder with his nose, and she scooted over to make room for him on the bench. Cloud Fire took the seat across from them. “Think about it,” Cloud Fire said. “She told us she was going to be quick, and she wasn’t. She’s an intelligence officer! She’s supposed to give us accurate information! Who knows what else she told us was a lie? Hang on a second.” Their conversation took a necessary pause at this point as Cloud Fire turned his attention to the stew. Trying to talk with a pegasus while they were eating was a fool’s errand; they focused with single-minded, rapacious intensity on their meal, as though it might escape at any moment. Vermilion wasn’t sure what latent predatory instinct a bowl of stew awoke in the pegasus mind, but if he were a small woodland critter he’d be terrified. Fortunately, pegasi were also fast eaters. Vermilion was halfway through his first hunk of cornbread when Cloud Fire finished. The pegasus leaned back, belched, then stared down at his vanquished tray with a mournful expression. “I don’t think she was lying,” Vermilion said. He reviewed his mental notes of Quicklime’s talk. It couldn’t have lasted more than an hour. “Maybe that was short for her.” “I hope she never gives us a long briefing, then.” Cloud Fire sniffed at his tray, then turned his attention to Vermilion’s remaining piece of cornbread. “Hey, are you going to finish that?” Vermilion sighed and broke the piece in half, splitting it with the pegasus. The action caught Zephyr’s eye, and she nosed in, leaning heavily against Vermilion’s shoulder. “Hey, are you going to—” “You know, you can ask for more food,” he groused, giving her the remaining cornbread. “It’s not like there’s a shortage in the city.” “Yeah, but you’re right here,” Cloud Fire mumbled around the cornbread bulging out his cheeks, spraying them with crumbs. He paused to swallow. “S’faster.” “Do you even use plates at home?” He brushed the crumbs out of his coat. “Zephyr, what’d you think? About the briefing?” She devoured the rest of the cornbread before answering. “Scary. Especially if they put webs in the trees.” She shivered. “Can you imagine flying into one of those?” He couldn’t, of course, but he could sympathize. And plenty of other parts of that briefing left him unsettled. Not even the warm stew could chase away the chill hiding in his chest. “Don’t you start, too,” Cloudy said. He reached out with a wingtip to flick Zephyr’s muzzle. “Seriously, I’ve been telling him all day we’re not going to fight monsters. You know we won’t. We never do.” Zephyr’s nostrils flared, and for a moment Vermilion thought she might snap at Cloudy’s feathers. Pegasus teeth were sharp. But she found some reservoir of self-control and responded with a level tone. “I’ve never had a briefing like that, either. That town is hundreds of leagues from here. What if things there are bad?” For a rare moment, Cloud Fire had nothing to say. The tips of his ears wilted, and his eyes darted around the table in search of support. Vermilion had none for him. He glanced at Zephyr, who was wearing her usual hawkish expression. She was intense for a pegasus, not flighty like some but always charged with energy. Even unarmed and naked, something about her poise whispered energy and danger. A bowstring held in tension, ready to fly. “Something’s snatching ponies in that town,” Vermilion said, breaking the stalemate. “Quicklime seems like a smart pony. If she thinks there’s spiders out there, then…” He trailed off. If they were out there, then what? “Do you think we’ll really fight them?” Zephyr leaned in, her voice low. “Like, for real?” “Cloudy said we wouldn’t. Remember? You said there were special units for fighting monsters. I remember that.” “Yeah, well.” Cloud Fire’s ears flipped back to lay against his wind-blown mane. “It’s true. In fact, I bet we’ll get some special augmentees to help us. High-speed hunters. You know, the elite. We’ll just have to stay out of their way and do our Guard thing.” * * * “Hi!” Quicklime was waiting back at their barracks-slash-briefing room. She beamed at the three of them and hopped off the stool beside the map table to meet them. “Guess what?” Cloud Fire blinked at her. “Uh—” “I’m joining your squad!” She bounced in place, the tips of her ears momentarily reaching the same height as Vermilion’s chin. “Isn’t that great?” That was one word for it. Several others leapt to Vermilion’s mind, and he was carefully parsing his response when Sergeant Buckeye joined them. A stack of forms and loose papers swayed precariously on his back. “It’s wonderful, ma’am. I’m sure these three are delighted to hear it. Aren’t you?” He shot them a look over Quicklime’s head. “Yes, sergeant.” You could never go wrong with that answer. Cloud Fire was a bit slower to respond. “Uh, yeah.” “Highlight of the day, so far,” Zephyr added. “Good.” Buckeye caught a folder that shifted and nearly fell from the pile on his back. “Agent Quicklime will be spending most of her time with the major and the chief, but she’s attached to our squad for berthing and paperwork purposes. I need a volunteer to partner up with her while she gets settled in.” Silence. Quicklime glanced between the three of them. The excited smile slowly faded from her face. Buckeye’s expression darkened. “Fine, then. Let’s see…” His eyes skated over Cloud Fire and Zephyr, lingering on their wings for a moment, before arrowing in on Vermilion. “Private Vermilion, make sure she gets everything she needs.” Vermilion’s facade didn’t crack, but he winced inside. Of course it was him. Celestia forbid somepony trust a pegasus with actual responsibility. “Yes, sergeant.” “Outstanding.” He was all smiles again. “Help her get situated. We’ve only got three days before the major wants us on the road. I assume you’re not taking leave?” “No, sergeant.” It was nearly a day’s travel to the farm, and even if they did have time, it wasn’t high on the list of places Vermilion wanted to visit. “I’ll be here.” “Perfect. I expect you three to be our squad’s experts on these so-called spiders, so pay attention to whatever she tells you. Ma’am, if you need anything, just ask Private Vermilion or myself, and we’ll be happy to help.” “Thank you, Sergeant Buckeye.” She beamed up at him, and for a hopeful instant Vermilion thought she might try to give the sergeant a hug. But alas it was not to be, and he fled out the door with his paperwork, leaving the three squadmates with their new friend. Their new best friend, to judge by the way she was smiling at them. “So, you’re Vermilion,” she said, shoving her muzzle right up into his personal space. “Thank you so much for this, by the way. Normally field agents don’t actually get to go out into the field. I volunteered as soon as the opportunity came up! Now, who are your friends?” “Uh, this is Corporal Cloud Fire.” He placed a hoof on her shoulder and gently turned her to face the cream-coated pegasus. “He’s our team leader. And I think you met Specialist Zephyr during the briefing, earlier.” “Team leader?” Cloud Fire stepped forward and held out his hoof for Quicklime to bump. “Yeah, the three of us are a team. Well, four now, I guess. Sergeant Buckeye leads the squad, which has four teams. And the major runs the company, which has six squads, plus a few random ponies for support. It’ll make sense to you after a few days.” “We’re glad to have you with us, ma’am,” Zephyr said. She ignored the look Cloud Fire gave her and leaned forward to nuzzle Quicklime’s cheek, a gesture the tiny unicorn returned with enthusiasm. “What should we call you?” “Oh, just Quicklime is fine.” “Aren’t you, like, an officer?” Vermilion said. “Technically.” She waved a hoof. “But nopony cares about rank in the RIS. It’s all about what job you hold, and believe me, being out in the field as a special agent is a lot better than working in some dusty vault in the palace.” A vault sounded like a pretty safe place, actually. He doubted anypony ever got hurt guarding a vault. “Do you have any gear?” Zephyr asked. “We can help you grab it and find a spare bed. There should be plenty with ponies going on leave.” “I already brought it. And I have my own room!” She led them down the hall to the sleeping quarters, stopping outside the empty room across from Buckeye’s. It was an sergeant’s billet, larger than the room Cloud Fire and Vermilion shared, and inside was piled an entire wagon’s worth of trunks, chests, books, foal-sized armor and other assorted belongings. A telescope mounted on a tripod was aimed with apparent optimism at the tiny glazed window high above their heads. A riotous collection of mane-and-coat-care products filled the top of the tiny dresser to overflowing, and Vermilion was fairly sure that if Quicklime ever tried to wear the sword dangling by its sheath from the coat peg, it would drag on the ground between her legs. They stared from the threshold. Finally, Zephyr spoke. “How did you get all this in here?” “Sergeant Buckeye found some volunteers to carry it,” Quicklime said. “Okay. Um, you know you can’t take all this with you on the road, right?” Cloud Fire sniffed at one of the shampoo bottles. “It’s only what you can carry. Or what Cherry can carry, I guess.” “Hey,” Vermilion scowled at him. “I already have my own stuff to lug.” “Yeah, but, come on. Just, like, reach inside and find that earth pony strength.” “And then use it to carry stuff?” “Cherry, look at her. How much do you think she can haul?” “Colts, please,” Quicklime interrupted. “I can, um, consolidate some stuff. I think. Also, Cherry? Is that, like, a nickname?” Cloud Fire grinned. “It sure is. Do you want to call him that, too?” “Yes!” The joy that poured out of the tiny unicorn in that exclamation filled the room with sunshine. “I mean, if that’s alright, Private Vermilion.” It wasn’t. He hated that damn name, and Cloud Fire knew it. But the hopeful expression on Quicklime’s face reminded him too much of his little sister at Hearthswarming. He sighed. “Sure, it’s fine.” He pivoted to Zephyr, who was already opening her mouth to ask. “And no, you may not.” She flicked an ear. “Mm, we’ll see.” Best to find a diversion from that line of thought. Vermilion turned back to Quicklime, who was sorting through books on the bed’s thin cotton covers. “So, ma’am, about these supposed spiders.” “Yup! What about them?” “Have you ever seen one?” “Hm.” She tilted her head. “Depends what you mean, I guess. I have never seen a live giant spider, but I’ve seen dead ones.” That focused their attention. Cloud Fire hopped up on the bed beside the books, followed quickly by Zephyr. Vermilion would have scolded them for jumping on Quicklime’s bed without her permission, but there was no point. It would just confuse them. To the pegasus mind any level, reasonably solid object was synonymous with the ground. “What were they like?” Cloud Fire asked. “Uh, big?” She frowned. “No, I can do better than that. Hang on.” They waited quietly as she opened several chests and bags in turn, mumbling to herself the whole while. Finally she found what she was looking for, and returned to the bed with a sketchbook and tin of charcoal pencils. She opened the book to a blank page, selected a worn nub, and began to lightly draw from memory. “Obviously the living ones look different,” she said. Her voice had taken on a steady, distant cadence, entirely unlike her conversational tone. “They fall apart quickly when they die. The one I saw was literally turning to dust while we watched, and of course it was already heavily damaged in the fight that killed it. So I have to take some liberties here.” A shape slowly came together on the page. They leaned over it, their muzzles crowding so close that the tips of Quicklime’s ears brushed against their noses. She didn’t seem to notice. “There are only seven reports of giant spiders attacking ponies in the past hundred years,” she said, her voice still quiet. “I know because I ran the archival search myself. In only two of those reports were enough details recovered to try and reconstruct what the spider looked like, and they were both different. And the corpse I saw was different from both of those, so it seems reasonable to assume that monstrous spiders are widely varied. All this is to say, I don’t really know what the spiders in Hollow Shades look like, assuming they’re even spiders at all. We could be completely wrong.” What started as an abstract geometric shape began to sharpen as Quicklime added more details. The dark form resolved as a fat, warted body, bristling with hairs. Long, spindly legs, like jointed needles, supported its bulk. Even with no scale, with nothing to compare, the drawing seemed immense. Larger than the page that contained it. Either the Royal Intelligence Service required its agents to take drawing lessons, or Quicklime had missed her calling. “How, um…” Zephyr leaned back. “How big was it?” “Hm.” Quicklime twirled the charcoal in her magical grip, and quickly sketched in the rough shape of a pony. Its withers came up to the spider’s eyes. “About that big, I think. Remember, there wasn’t much left.” Lovely. Vermilion tried to imagine a spider that size. It wouldn’t fit in the room with them, he realized. “You could be wrong, you said? About it being a spider?” Quicklime nodded. “Do you think you are?” Quicklime took her time before answering. She tore the sketch out of her notebook, passed it to Cloud Fire, and put her charcoals away. Only then did she shake her head. “No.” * * * Hours later, after lights out, Vermilion lay in his bunk wide awake. Sleep wasn’t anywhere in the forecast. “Hey, Cloudy,” he whispered into the darkness. Sheets ruffled across the tiny room. “Yeah?” How to ask? Vermilion struggled for some elegant, casual phrasing and failed. In the end he did what earth ponies usually do and spoke his mind. “Have you ever seen anypony die?” Cloud Fire took his time before responding. “Not in person, but I’ve seen bodies. Our first deployment we came across a family of earth ponies who got trapped on the road during a blizzard. The stallion stayed with the foals under some blankets while the mare went to get help. She got turned around in the storm, wandered off the road, and froze to death about a hundred yards from her family. We found her the next morning.” Oh. “Did the rest of them…” “They were fine. The foals lost their ears to frostbite, but they lived. She would’ve too, if she’d stayed with them.” “Why didn’t she?” Cloud Fire sighed. “You’d have to ask her. The stallion said he tried to stop her. Sometimes ponies just make bad decisions.” The silence returned. Vermilion found his thoughts of monsters now mixed with snow. “You doing okay, Cherry?” Cloud Fire asked. “You’ve seemed a little out of sorts ever since we got word about this deployment.” “Uh, you were there when she told us about the spiders, right?” “Yeah, yeah, I got all that. Look, let’s try something. I’m going to list a few things that the company will do starting in a few days, and you tell me if that’s something you have any control over. Okay?” “Uh, okay?” “Good. Now, in a few days we’re going to leave for Gloom’s Edge. Is that something you have control over?” “Not really.” “Right. You signed up for the Guard, which means you have to deploy when we tell you. Now, Quicklime is coming with us, and she knows absolutely nothing about living in the field, or being a guard, or whatever. She’ll be relying on our squad, and you in particular, for help. Is that something you have control over?” “No. Well… yeah, I guess. I mean, how much we help her, right? How good of a job we do?” “Exactly. So we march for however long it takes to reach Hollow Shades, and we fight monsters. Or maybe we just camp out for three months getting so bored we wished monsters would attack. How about that?” “No, that’s up to the major. And the spiders, I guess. If they exist.” “See? You’re getting it. So what is the only thing you control?” “How I do my own job?” “Perfect. You just realized in, like, two minutes what it takes most soldiers years to figure out. Don’t worry about the stuff you can’t control. It’ll happen or it won’t, and all you’ll do by freaking out about it is make yourself and the rest of us miserable.” Vermilion couldn’t help but smile. “That’s inspiring, Cloudy. You should make a career out of this leadership thing.” Cloud Fire snorted. “Don’t make me come over there, private. Now, try to get some sleep, okay? For both our sakes?” Sleep would be good. Vermilion leaned back into his pillow and pulled the blankets up around his shoulders. The night air had been growing chilly lately, and like most pegasi Cloud Fire insisted on leaving a window open at all hours, regardless of the weather outside. It would be colder on the road, though. This might be one of his last nights spent in a bed for several months. That was assuming things went well in Hollow Shades. He realized, with a sudden, cold rush of wakefulness, that this might be one of his last nights in a bed, ever. “Hey, Cloudy?” There was a louder sigh this time. “Yes, Cherry?” “Don’t you worry about dying?” It was several seconds before Cloud Fire responded. “We all do, Cherry. We just don’t talk about it. Now, please, go to bed.” Don’t talk about it. That wasn’t an order, but it might as well have been. So Vermilion rolled onto his side, and instead of staring at the ceiling stared at the sanded wood wall just inches away. Even in the darkness he could make out the faint whorls of grain and twisting paths of termites’ gnawing. The subtle patterns did nothing to ease his thoughts away from death. He could not contemplate the loss of any members of the squad. Their deaths would be a tragedy, not just for themselves, but for a countless wider circle of friends and family. Ponies relied on them; Cloud Fire supported a sister, the first in his family to attend the Weather Academy. Zephyr was betrothed to a pegasus from an old Derecho clan. She would be married within the year, and probably a mother not long after that. Even Quicklime, though he had known her for less than a day, seemed irreplaceable. She was a genius, an artist, high-spirited. Everypony’s little sister. She would be the company mascot by the time they reached Hollow Shades. There was only one pony in the squad who would go unmissed in death. Forgotten already by his family for deserting them. Just another earth pony life, one of the countless masses. Exchangeable. He wondered, briefly, how long Cloud Fire, Zephyr, and the others would grieve for him. Vermilion never found sleep that night. But, in time, sleep found him.