//------------------------------// // Chapter 19 // Story: Death Rides a Pale Mare // by totallynotabrony //------------------------------// The forge room was darkened, lit only by the fire in the furnace. The members of the guild stood before it in a semicircle, the red light flickering over them, their shadows looming larger on the walls. The fire glinted in Pale’s eyes. She knew staring into the flames wasn’t a good habit, but couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere else. Three black parasprites hovered over their heads. They seemed unnaturally still and somber. How did they know? Somehow, they did. Piper was wrapped in a blanket and laid on a flat wooden skid before the furnace. The others kept their distance. It was respect, partly. It was also the feeling that the Blight might still linger, still desecrating its victims after death. Piper would want them to be prudent. “Does anypony want to say anything?” Mirror asked quietly. Seconds passed. “I do,” Shard muttered. “But I don’t think it would do any good.” That might have been the truest thing Pale had ever heard. Not to mention the hardest to hear. Fitting that it was how Piper was sent off. Hammer stepped forward, and with a gentleness that belied his strength, slid the body forward into the flames. The wood and the fabric began to burn almost immediately. Pale was the first to turn away. She went directly to her quarters and gathered her things. Coming back into the main room, she encountered Mirror. “Where are you going?” Mirror asked, her eyes lingering on Pale’s expression.  “Are you in charge now?” Pale challenged.  “Do you want to be?” Mirror shot back.  They locked gazes for a moment. Pale looked away and started walking again, heading for the door. “I’m going to Griffonstone, to search for the other guild.”  “What will you do when you find them?”  Pale hesitated, but didn’t have an answer. She went out the door.    Griffonstone was apparently the home of at least a few scone shops. Pale couldn’t see much else as she arrived in the town, though perhaps it was because of the darkness.  Even after the journey to get there, Pale still didn’t have a clear idea what she would do when she found the other guild. She told herself it wasn’t their fault that the Whirling-  She shook her head. No. She was never going to think of that name again. If there were scone shops in Griffonstone, then it stood to reason there was probably a flour mill. It took Pale longer than she expected to find it, however. She’d passed the blackened, burned remains of a building several times before realizing it was the one she was looking for. The grindstones, fallen through the burned wreckage, were the only recognizable things that remained. The rest of the building had been reduced to scorched sticks and ash.   Pale walked into the remains, treading carefully and watching her steps in the soot. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, or whether she should feel disappointed or relieved.  There was a rustle of feathers and a griffon stepped out of the shadows. Pale tensed, but saw it was Gilderoy. He seemed surprised to see her.   “Fancy that,” he murmured. He cocked his head. “I take it you aren’t here by chance.”  “Your-” Pale chose her words carefully “-associate got infected and didn’t tell anypony. He took one of ours with him.”  “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Gilderoy. His words lacked sincerity. Pale wasn’t sure if it was because he wasn’t surprised, or if it had more to do with the ruined building they stood in.  “What happened here?” Pale asked, changing the subject.  “I don’t know, but I’ve managed to put together a few clues.” Gilderoy sat, seemingly unconcerned about getting ash on him. “I came back a few days ago to find the mill like this. Dust explosion, they said. Maybe it even was, but there were a few things out of place.”  He pointed to the door, or to the empty hole where it had been. “Over there, I found a knife buried under the ash. It wasn’t one of ours. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anything like it.”  He produced the blade to show her. It was certainly an exquisite piece, even being covered in soot from the fire. It had the look of something produced industrially, and even then at high quality.  “It was under one of the bodies,” Gilderoy went on, “the guard at the door. I’m thinking that means he went down fighting, and maybe even killed one of them first.”  “One of who?” Pale asked.  “I don’t have any proof, but I have a suspicion,” said Gilderoy. “It’s the cyclops.”  It was a word Pale had heard before, but she gestured for Gilderoy to explain. He said, “Many years ago, Griffonstone was actually a nice place to live. Now, I wouldn’t know, this happened well before I was born, but there was a golden statue called the Idol of Boreas that was stolen by a monster named Arimaspi. But then he fell into the Abysmal Abyss. From what I’ve heard, Arimaspi was a cyclops.”  “What does this have to do with some statue?” Pale asked. “Too many coincidences add up. A couple of weeks ago, a couple of those Element of Harmony ponies came here. Down in the Abyss, they actually spotted the Idol of Boreas and Arimaspi’s remains, but the idol fell deeper into the crevasse and they lost it.”  Gilderoy paused and looked at Pale. “It was about then that we started getting reports of strange creatures spotted nearby. Nothing solid, just rumors. Arimaspi was hardly the first or only cyclops, but none have been seen for years. I heard they lived underground, which would explain why Arimaspi was trying to escape to Abysmal Abyss. He apparently fell, though, and didn’t manage to carry the Idol all the way to the bottom. But now it’s there.”  “Did it have powers or something?” Pale asked.  “Not that I know of. But - bear with me here - maybe it falling down was just a reminder to the cyclops that the surface world still exists. If they’ve been living down there for so long, who knows what they could have gotten up to. Maybe they’re coming up here now.”  “Why would they attack your group?”  Gilderoy shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe one of us got careless. Maybe all that time alone gave them an edge, a technology or magic or something we haven’t encountered before. You saw the knife.”  The theory did require some suspension of disbelief, but a sudden thought struck Pale. The mural painted on the wall at the Weeds’ place: a single, staring eye.  Added to that, could the cyclops have developed something never seen before? Perhaps...an engineered disease?  But the Blight had been around for hundreds of years. Could the cyclops have released it before they retreated into solitude? Were they only just now discovering that the surface world still existed, that the Blight hadn’t killed everything?  Gilderoy studied her face. “You look like a couple of things just fell into place.”  “Maybe,” Pale allowed.  Gilderoy nodded and got up, stretching. “When I want to think, I always go for a flight up into the mountains. If it’s a good night, you can see forever. Do you want to go?”  Pale debated, but then nodded.  Gilderoy led her, flying at an easy pace. He kept glancing at her wings, but managed to keep his curiosity to himself.  Pale still didn’t fully trust Gilderoy, but he’d gained quite a bit in that department tonight. She balanced the risks and decided to go with him, as long as he stayed where she could see him.  It really was a nice night. The moon was out and the stars were shining. It was easy to navigate, even among the mountains. Gilderoy pointed one out and spiraled down, aiming for the peak. Pale landed beside him.  “I think this is my favorite spot,” said Gilderoy. “I’ve been coming up here ever since I was old enough to fly.”  The two of them looked out over the landscape. Pale took a moment to admire the view. The town was far down below, its lights barely visible. In daylight, she might have been able to see all the way to the ocean.  Gilderoy raised his talons to his mouth. Pale noticed they weren’t well manicured anymore. He coughed once.  “Well, I don’t want to be that guy,” he said suddenly. “After what happened at the mill, I got careless. I’m pretty sure I’ve got...it.” He stared at the ground. Pale tensed, but didn’t move.   After a moment, Gilderoy looked up. “It feels different to say it out loud. I’m not sure if that’s the same thing as accepting it.”  “I’m sorry.” Pale didn’t know what else to say.  “Thank you. I guess.” Gilderoy took a deep breath and looked skywards. “You know, I was wondering what I was going to do. I have some time left, but I wanted to go out on my terms. I haven’t come up with anything yet.”  He took out the knife he’d showed her, paused, but then shook his head. “No. No way am I going out with this. Not this knife.” He hurled it off the peak of the mountain and it fell into the darkness below.  Gilderoy’s shoulders hunched. Pale watched him carefully.  He swallowed. “C...could you?”  He’d said he wanted it on his terms, but that wasn’t at all what she had expected and Pale was taken aback.   But could she not? She pulled a knife from its sheath.  Gilderoy stared at it, the moonlight glinting off the blade. He looked at her face. “You’re a good friend, Pale.”  “Thank you,” she said quietly.  Gilderoy closed his eyes.