//------------------------------// // Retrieval // Story: Luna Wants a Windigo // by Lazauya //------------------------------// Night Sky laid in her bed, her mouth wide open. The telltale sound of a chronic mouth breather spread through the quiet, small room. Her cute little fangs shone in the late moonlight cascading through the window beside her. “Psssst, psssst.” Night sky was still still. “Psssst, Night Sky….” She still remained as still as a window sil. “...Night Sky, this prose isn’t getting any better….” “Huh…? Gleam, is that y—Princess Luna! Your Majesty! Your Greatness!” “Yes, it is I, in the flesh.” “Uhm… hi.” “‘Hi’ to you as well, Night Sky.” “Uh-uhm, Princess, what are you doing here?... I think I busted my lip when I yelled….” “I have the diary.” “Yeah, it’s definitely—pardon? You mean….” “If you mean that I mean Celestia’s diary, then yes, I mean that. If not, I mean Celestia’s diary. I want no confusion in this matter; this imprecise speaking makes me anxious sometimes.” “Uhm, yes, of course…. But… why are you telling me…. I mean…. I…. I’m just an assistant, Princess, I’m very flattered, but I don’t think this is… well… my business.” “Night Sky, aren’t you the least bit curious about what secrets lay within this book?” “I… I don’t think I’m important enough.” “Put that aside. What are your true feelings?” “I…” she hesitated, “I’m not interested.” “Why did you hesitate?” “I… I don’t know, Princess...” she croaked as a knot began to form in her throat. “Night Sky, please stop with this. You are a dear friend. I want to see you happy, above all. Tell me your true feelings.” “...I…” she squeaked again, “I’m not supposed to see that, Princess…. I’m just… Night Sky… I’m just... a name you drew out of a hat…. I’m not special…. I don’t know why you’re doing this right now….” “Night Sky! No, you are special. You are my best friend after my sister. You have been helping me since the beginning, and for that, I cannot thank you enough. Don’t ever say that you’re not special. If you do not want to see the contents of this most prized book, if you believe it to be too personal, then fine. I don’t judge you—if anything, I judge myself. But denying yourself this opportunity because of your “stature” is ridiculous. You are worth much more than you believe yourself to be, and not to mention you put my sister and I on too high of pedestals. Love yourself, Night Sky, because you are worth every star in your namesake and more. Now, do you want to defile my sister’s privacy with me?” “....Yes. Totally.” “Then let us.” Luna casted her two counter enchantments on the book, ensuring that it would finally be decrypted. She was utterly nervous and unsure of the potential contents; if her sister’s recent actions would be any indicator, it wouldn’t definitely be interesting. The book laid on the table in wait. The two friends just stared at it. “Are you going to open it?” Luna inquired “I thought you were going to open it.” “That’s your job. You’re my servant.” “Assistant,” she corrected, “And best friend.” “Open the book, Night Sky.” “Y-yes, Princess.” Night Sky opened the book. Dear Diary, Uhm, hello! I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to write about. Why did I write that? I… I’m sorry, but I’m not too sure. Sorry. Oh my goodness, this is not turning out well at all. I guess I’ll start with my day. Which was good. I went for a walk in the park and I had a lesson with young Twilight. Oh, Twilight, such a darling filly. I’m so very proud of her progress so far— “Maybe we are just a touch too early, Night Sky.” “Uhm, yes, of course.” Dear Diary, Today, I had the most delicious coffee cake! “Still to early! Just go the end, we can work backwards from there.” Hello, Today, I had an epiphany. I saw the world for as it really was—a layer ever so much deeper than the previous time. I understood the true nature of it. There is an underlying reality that we all experience. All beings must exist. They must! For my reality is the only true reality, and for that to be the case, there must be a reality which I perceive thereby making it my own. And in this reality, she told me, there must only be one hierarchy of things, of complexity, of entropy. Of everything. I know this to be true, f̫̲̮̣̆̐̊̾̒̔͑͟o̯͎̱̖̦̲͌͂͐̓͗̉̓̕͞͝ŗ̰͈̱̖̟́̇̓̈͋͆͒͛̕͜͞ ö̸̡͔̲̙̗͈̣̤̱́́̀̌̀̇̓̉́u̮̬͔̤͚̓́́̍̀͘͘͠r͍̫͖͚̯̖͈̜̥͗͆̂͛̅̐́̊͡͠ w̟͉̗͍̹̻̼͋̈́̈́̚͠ i̸͍͇̞̹͖̿̇̊̓̽̈́͗̈́͋͞ l̹̥̩̭͚͎̀̈́̇̇͐͛͡͞ l̢̛͓̹͔̣̣̱̭͙̓̊̎̄̄͌ m̶̨̯̳̬̪̫͖͂̓́́͋͜͢ ą͚̯̪̪̯͋̏̏̆͜͝ ķ̷̨̢͖̜̝̙̩̎͗͑̏̕͟ e̶̡̨̛͙̖̳͋͂͂̕͡ s̶͇̫̺̙̀͑̐͗͒̕͘͞͞ͅ i̷̛͉͍̩̹͇͓̟͐͂͛͋̓̏͒͑ͅt̨̡̹͙̘͍̲͓͇̏͗͆̐͆͒̏̆͢͡ t̶͙̖͖̹̯̟͎͓̍̿̉̔́͐r̡̭̙̗̐̋͆̇̊͟ u͖̟̟͇͕̟͈͗̔̆́͑̈̄̿͟ e̢̟̪͚̠͕̮͇̽̐̒̀̄ͅ.̸̛̙̮̬̲̠̱͙͊͐̇̃͋͜͞͡ I̖͈̤̳͎̊̀̍̈̄̄̐ a̡̰̙͈͎̐͑̎̐̓̐̒͡m̨̘̮̳͎̝̂̑̽͆̀̉͢͠ s͍͉͙̜̥͑̎͋͑̈́́̊̿̽̓͢ơ̷͉̖͔̗̘̱̘̮͕̘̔̒̋̓̾̑͘ t͍̭͔̭̯̰̫̀̓̍̌̈̊̚͟ȟ̷̤͍̣̀̅͋͑̋̄̚͢͜͝a͖̩̘̘̱̜̱̦͉͗̎̆͗̃͊̈̕̚͞ͅn̴̪̜͕̺̟̉̋̅̍̇́͋̃͌̈͜͜k̮͍̰͖̹̞̭̹̾͆̊́̿̂͡͡f̵̡͎̯͖̟̼͖̹̼̑͊́͑͋̋̒̓͆u̸̢̺̱̥̰͛͑̈̍̏͑̚͟͟͠͞l̢̹̞̺̰̝͇̤͆̈̏̆̌ ṫ̸̤̜̺͇̻́͌̊͂̌̊̕ḩ̧̛̺̗͔̥̱̅͑̿͑̈́͆̐́̊a͔̙̺͕̙̩̟̞̟̦͗̐̈́̿̈̐͞ţ̸͖̺͔̲̹̦̖͐̇̑̄͝ s̶̢̧̫͕̼̫̝̰̋̿̂̒͗̍̊h͕̪͈̮̪͑͌̊͌̕ę̴̱͓͓͔̦̼̟̋͒̿̎̓̆̀̐̃̏͟ h̠̜̭̹͌̎̌̐͜͟͠͠a̠͇̰̬̝̤̟̦̓̀͌͑̔̀͢ș͙̺̭̔̓̑͗͞ͅ s̵̡̨̨͇̬͉̙̪̓͐͋̅̔͊͆h̻͍͈̖͕̻̤͚̍͋̿̐̀̐̄͢͡o̢̗̟̠̙͚͛͋͌̉͑́͠͞͞͡w̨̺̠̦̱̬͐̏̐̅͋́͑̐͢͠͞ͅn̵̛̙͙̱͖̙͉͋͗̇̐͋̔̕͡͝ͅ m̨͓̤̹͙̙̱͈̖̐̉̊̑̓̕͘ẹ̶̪̺͚̯̉̏̏̉̅͊̓̑̚͘ ẗ̶̛̳͉̹͖́̾̎͊̎̎͒̋͒ͅȟ̵̩̬̻͍̬̃͊̈͠͡è̶̟̩͔̰̙̝̓̂̕͘͢ l͇̯̬̬̺̪̉̎̑̽͘͢i̡̡̛͕̭̼̦͚̭͗̀̾͊̈̌̂̇̽g̸̥̰̰̥͍͋͋̎̆͘͟ȟ̵̡̛̠̗̫̗͇̀̍͞͞͝ṱ̨̥͖͕̳̱͔̩̖͌̋̀͠͝.̵̦̘̮̩̣̉̑̇̈́̔̊͐̈́̈́͞ S̨̤͍̙͎̩͔̎̄̉͛͂͗̏̔͌̓͜o̵̩͈̙̹̲͇͑̔̿͒̎õ͍̹͓̝̠̝̹̾͊̋͆͆͜͜͞ǹ̶̛̬̯̖̖͙̳̯̗̜̀̒̉̄ͅ,̷̧̧̢̛̬̟̲͖̰̣̋̓̉̂͛̃͌͘͢ s̴̠͎͚̜̀̌̈́̈́͆͛̍̕͜h̷̦̙̹̠̙̺͚̓̀̃̅̌̽̎͘͟͡è̸̝̯͔̼̠͙̍̀̒͆̅̆̚͜͡ͅ w̸̢̢̟̗̬̰͖͓͙̝̎̽̌͑̄̆̐̚̚į̵̢̢̥̜͙̗̰̹̀̓̋͋͜͞l̲̺̤̩̲̬̫̐͋́̇͛̃̈́̒͞ḻ̸̰͈͕̙̫̺͕̅͊̄̒̋́̚̕͜͠ ḧ̹̫̹̥̱͇̮͊̊̑̂͋̆͗̕͢ȃ̷̖̰̪̹͐̈̓̚͜͝v̶̢̧̡͈͚͔͖͙̓̂̑̒̒͗̀͂͟͡e̻̰͎̱͙̙̅̇̏̉̒̽̃͌͘͟ m̶̧̜̝̞̖̗̠̋͑̔͐̄̌̐͜͞ͅȅ̯̝̗̰̟̬̣̱̓̀͌̿͢͞,̸̹̜̗̻̹͓͂͛͋͐̑͂͢ ą̸͔̞̫̭͍̌̾͊͌͑̄͐͆̌n̡̡̛̰͇̯̻͕̐̂̀͆̓͢d̡͈͎̻̭̺̻͑̾̅̃̍͌͜ w̨̮̦͈̩͖̃̃̃̇̓̒͛͐̔̾ę͔̬͎̮̔̐̑̈̈̿́̉̓͘͢ c̴̠͖͔̺̳̖͕̖̤̀̇͛̇͛͟a̧̛͈͉̫͍͛̿̿̄͞ͅͅn̷̨͕̮̥̲̫̖͗̔̅́̊̊̕͢͝ ḇ̵̭̙͈̘̏̒͊̽̃̃̚ḛ̢̜̺̲̥̟͖̄͐̾̽͊ t̷̡͙̤̳̥͙̽̂̎́͑̍̕͜o̧͉͎͔̹͔͎̘͋̽̊̏̐̒͡g̷̰̞̪͔͚̲̦͐͒̎̃͑̎͝͞ e̢̙͓̗̦̜̤̘͍͗͐͐́̅̅͞t ṭ̶̢̗̤͙̓͐́̏́̚͡h̴̢̲̝̭͉̎͒͆̕͠ͅę̵̙̤̙̙͍͒̓̋̃̿̌̈͟͢͝ͅr̰̪͈͍̖͇̒̓̿̿͝,̞̹͔̩͖͖̥̽͛͌̔̐͘͟͢ i̷̙͈͔͎͈̳̞͑̈̂̈́̓͒̕͢n̡̘̞̺͎̈́̂͒̎̉͊̚͘͟͡ ư̶̠̦̱͚̦̝̙̓̓̓͆͑̉ͅn̛̲̻͕͈̳̝̳̲͓͗̓̔̉͂͟͠i̶̢̥̺̰̼̻̹̅͆̐̌̈͗̀̃͢ş̵̪̠͍̾̇͐͋̄̍͑͑͢͡o̸̢͎̼͚̥̫͆̎̓̅̐͘͘͟͠͠ͅn̸̹̙̼͓͙̞͇̩̳̾̓͋̕͝,͇̗̞͔̫͖͑̄̏̐́̓̏͛̚ t̪̠͎͕̖̘̣̠͛̽͑̒̂̕͡ͅͅa̴̯͎̹͕̟͚̤̙̼̓̓̀̀̿̅̑̓̇͜k̛̛͙̣͕̭̞̠̳̆́͗̎͘͘ȉ̞͔̞͎̭̗̦͍̈̋̈́́͌͋̂͑n̞͈̹͖̺̈́͗̄̒͊̚͢g̵̛̳̲̮̬̰͎̘̲̯̯͂͗͛̍̽̆̈́̕ t̷̨̧̖̳͓̝͐̀̂̿̐̋̿̚ͅḩ̶̟̗͔̰̬̲̰̋̐̌̔́̍̕͘͢͡e̡̨̢̛̟͎̟̯͖̣̹̅̈̍̊̕͞ f̹̲̮̗̭̗͚͒̓̔͋̃͒̕͢ǫ̲̞̥͍͓̺̟̑́͑̐̾̅͒͠͡r̴̡̢̥̲͎͉̯̝͖͙̀̾̃̐͂̇̑̀͘m̥͕̲̼͉͈̹̺̓̏̍͗͆̊̏̓ á̴̤̩̘̤̤̬̹̗̔̓̋̏̚s̝̱̞̙̪̊̔͐͛͌̅͜͢͠͡ ț̟̩̝͎̘̺̩̹̅̀̎͂̊̈͘͠h̵̡̯̗͈̠̫͛͒̓̏̎̕͠͝e͙̪̘̤̗͗̐̍̋̾̏͡͝ p̛̝̦̹͍̜̥̝̲̏̓̃̒ì̧͔̻̜̲͔̰͈̜͐̈́̊̀͡͝ǹ̩̳̜̉͊͒͘͟͜n̢̜̺̫͍͙͛̈̓̉̔ą̷̜̲̖̘̇̉̆͊̋͠c̴̡̫͍̫̔̋̋̂̔̀̈́͌̏͠ͅḻ͇̳̱̱̟̌̾̃̏̌̂͘e̵̛̞̗̳̺̙͈̜̊͊͛͗͐̿̍͘͜͟͟͝ õ̧͖̭̭̰̻̹̥͐͌̅̉͘͢f̨̛̻̫̹̻͕̹̈͊̍̍̆͗͒͜͠͞ ȩ̧̰̟̣̼͍̉̄̌̒̿̌͌̈̐͢͢͡ͅx͈̦̮̩͈̜̺̯̂̆̄̓̐͡į̵̛̲̙̦̯̫̆̅̅́̃́͘͜͢͠s̷̜̘̩̖̞̮͙͚̮̓͋̋̏̕͟t̷̰̪̳͍̲̹͒́͊̑̉͟͝e̩̥̙̙̊͐̐̊̽̋͑̋̕͢n̺͕̼̪̽̆̈̓̇̓͑̇̀͢c̷̮̬̖̻̟̜̪̎̾͐̀͋̓͟͢͢ȩ̶̢̢͚̠̯͖̯̤̞̂̿́͑͘.̨̡̙̫̺̈̄̋̀͆̋͡ S̸̛̭̫̤̻͓̜̽̌͊̊̑̈́̏̿͘o̮̦̰̫͕̮̽̏͊̎͑͐̒̽̚ơ̶̡̱͇͚̮͇̼̖̗̇͐̉̇̆̌͗̉ͅn̵̠̣͙͙̰̟̂͐̓̎͡,̡̛̼̗͕̩̠̲̦̫̀̏̏̄̿̈͂̓̔ o̡̮̩͕̫͎̦̹͕̓̎́̉͌̅̀͌͐̕u̴̲̻͉͕͔̘̠͚͗̐̏͊̔̐̇͢ŗ̧̤̬͎̙͒̂̿͛̔̔͜͡ p̸̡̘͍̤͓̩̥̱͆̑͑͂̇̇͜͟l̴̨̡̰͈̯͎̓͆͂̿͡͞͝a̖̜̻͕̮͖̣̯̙͍̓͋͊̃͗̓͋̚ñ̯͈̪̩̹͎̺̦͇̃̓̍̈́ͅs̸̡̧̧̧̠̙̹͔̼̰͛̓̓͌̉̈͛͡ w̸̢̬̦̭͕͍͑̇͂͑̅̓̚͘͟͢į̳͈͙̗̲̎̓̉̎̇̆͜l̢̛̦̞̻͕̳͈̻̍̐̈̓̿́̄͢͟͝l̶̺̹͚̜̙͚̮̍́́͑̍̂̌͑̊ c͎̥̜͖̼͔̖͖̣̏͋̊͗̏͢͞͠o͕̹̪̻̮͛̇̀̾̂̓m̴̡̛̼̙̪̙̮̹̆̎̅͋̓̓̈́͘͝e̵̥̤̝̞̩͌̅͊͒̀͆ ţ̷̻̰̰̝̍̃̅̏̚͡ͅo̷̘̜͇͎̫̖̘̙̓͋̏̏̄̀̅̈́̈̚ f̥̘̤̲̮̞̙́̇̽͊̾̊͐͌̀͟͝ͅͅŗ̵̳̩̠͉͆̀̔̎͒́͜͜͡u̡̧̳̯̺͖̫͛̾͗̾̈̇͢͡͠ͅi̡̘̣͉̺̝͇͓̓͒̄̑͐̑͌̚͠t̵̡̤̺͉͖͎̄̂̒̓̏̃̓î͍̦̠̩̱͕̬̥̊͗̓̾̂͜͝o̷͙͔̩̝̹͂̀̀͐̾̕ń̢͎͉̲̺͚̦̻͇͎̇̌͊̈́̒,̷̣̠̰͓̪̠̰͛͌̋̈́͐͟ ą̡̨͇̖̗̠̄̒̓̈́̉̃̒̕͘͜͝n̝̰̞̲̥̗͓͍̼̾͒͐̔͂͗͌̕ḍ̸̺̩̩͇̱͓͈͋͊̆͒͘̚ w̛͕͉̜̰̟̠̥̥̱͒̔̎͐̽̚͟͠ě̫̞̰̥̹̗̈́̈͆̃̎ ç̨̲̜̭͈͉̿̿̇̀̌͡ͅą͙̬̎̓̂͌̉̏͢͝͠ͅn̼̦̼͍͔͔͆̔̐̒̓̿͘͘̚ f̛̪̫̲̫̺̮̜͚͖͉͊̾̀́͐́̋͒ĭ̡̖͕̘̼̗̼̬̭̿̊̓̄͠͡͠n̝̩̪͈̹̓̀͆̋̔̑̇̉͘͢͞á̶̡̨̛͔̮̖̩͔͕̼̣̈͛̋̏̂͆͊͂l̨̧̩̭̥̭͙͕̭͛́̏͂̊̀̈́l̴͉̠̼̝͍̖͕͗̍̽̔̐̆̈́͢ý̢̡͍̪̣̀͐͊͋ ḃ͙̜͇̼͓͂̍͒̓̿̽͊̆͘ȩ̺̱̻̝̝̑̀̽́͐͊̿͜ ȫ̴̼̝̣̬͇͑̈̇n̶̩͉̳̺̼̓́̈̉̊̔̚͜e̵̪̩̦̼͎̮̋̈͒̑͞.̶͓͈͓͖͈̯͍̑̒̔̄̾͌̒̿͝ I̧͔̯̻͎͛͋́͒̏͢ l̸̩̮̱̲̞͔̝̽͌̆̐̓͢ǒ̴̢̘̥͚͉̻̝͔̾͐̂̉̊̊̌̚v̧̛̞̪̹̣̖̔̏̒̒̂̂͢͠͞e͙̹͓̺̜̅̽̀̚̚ y̭̺̰̦̱̪͕͍̠͊̂̏̓̏̒͢͞o̴̧̦̺̜̹͆̐̒͐̕̚͢͢u͉̫̤͎̖͎̜̼͙͈͒́̽̌͊̐̀̀̀̚.̶̨̢̖̪̪̱̫̰͍͈̄̿̿̿̓ ̡̨̥͉̟̝̟͐̔̎͗̌̃̒͋͠͝ͅĄ̶̛͖͎̲̬̊͊͐͠n̵̡̝̜̝͈̥̝̽̇̓͒̔͟͢ḓ̵̛̣̠̼̖̺̗̜̾̔̄̇̈́̂͊͡ İ̭͔͇͉̱͗̔͐͛͐̕̚͘ͅ l̶̪̳̳͖̹͉̠̐̽͊͛̌͆͘͢͟ơ̴̦̦͓̹͎̣̩̱̘̄̀̆̑͋̕͘͠v̷̡̪͙̜̝̰̩̖̭̆̏̄̈̈͟͞e̢̡̟͙͍̓́͂̓͘̕ y͖̻͇̻̘̹̥̮̥͌̈̈͛̈́̆ö̞̜̼͙͍̹̯̣̀̈̇͊̚͝͠u̴̢̘͚̦͈̗̣̔͑̅̌͋͑̂͐ t̢̮̹̱̟̙̣͔̫͖̆̀͂͆̾̒̊̀ǫ̵̲̼͙̠̙͖͗͌͆̎̚͡ǒ̡̲̳̰̰̝̟̾̆͂̔́̂͟.̛̛̩̖̖̘̱̫̝́͒͂͂̆̃ “What does that last part say? It looks like she layed the ink on a little too heavy.” “Night Sky, it’s ‘laid’.” “Oh, right, sorry.” “To your previous question: I am not sure. This is very unsettling….” “It is very creepy, Princess.” “We shall… look back a few pages. I still have not found word on her... ‘windigo project’.” Dear Diary, Today, we had Luna and I tried to transmute a windigo! I had so much fun teaching her about alchemy, and my lovely was such a help. It saddens me that so many look down on her, for she is such an important figure! The muse of Starswirl, even. Oh, how I long... Anyway, I had such a fun time with my sister again. I’m just so sad that we failed. I just hope I can get Luna that windigo in good time. Well, I guess I’m signing off. “Who could this ‘she’ my sister speaks of possibly be?” “Maybe it’s her phoenix, Princess.” “Yes, this is a good theory. I was not aware that Starswirl and Philomena were accustomed, however.” “I don’t know, I guess it’s possible. Don’t phoenixes live forever?” “Or at least an extraordinarily long amount of time. Hm, yes, let us read on.” Dear Diary, Today, Luna and I went to the past! All her lovely lesson are really helping me, oh yes, and I was able to meet Clover the Clever! Although, according to her notes, I already did meet Clover, I think. Because, like, the past already happened, technically, even though my time direction looped back on itself a bit. So yeah. Now, we are just waiting to look for the windigo we froze. I think it was a stallion windigo. Quite handsome, and perfect for Luna. Oh the things I can teach Luna about love, like— “OKAY, NEXT PAGE.” Dear Diary, We couldn’t find it! It was gone! It is as she says, they are all laughing at me! How can this be?! I hate them all! I HATE THEM ALL “Woah, Princess, this kinda freaks me out. I’m scared to read anymore. This is getting scary.” “I understand your concerns. But perhaps we should read just a bit further. I want to know what she has planned next.” Luna skimmed through the book, looking for the latest entries about windigos. After a few seconds, she stopped and pointed at it. “Here.” Dear Diary, The latest escapade is coming along quite well. “Sister? Escapade?! That’s my word! What nerve!” “...I agree!” “Quiet, Night Sky. Read on.” I finally got Twilight alone. And I was able to have her drink the potion. I realized where your notes were leading me, and looking back on it now, it seems so obvious…. A cast, a constant source of magic—it’s all there in the body of a unicorn mare. I believe that this time, I have finally done it. I have found a windigo for Luna. And it was so close to home! Now, of course, I just need to wait. And wait. Oh, this will surprise Luna so much! In other news, I finally found out what the song I got stuck in my head was called. It went like do-do-doo-do. Like that, but kind of jumpy. It’s— “Wait! I want to know what the song is called! I had that same one stuck in my head!” “Not now, Night Sky. This is truly disturbing… if this means what I think it means, I’m afraid…” Luna gagged, “I’m afraid I may have been too late. Night Sky, come, I have to do some… research.” “Yes, of course, Princess.” “Hey, Princess, thanks for… uhm….” “Yes?” Night Sky went in for a hug, “Thanks for saying those nice things about me.” “Do not touch me.”